Jill was living “down the highway” when I first met her.  Her family had moved out of Gulf Breeze proper onto five acres a year or two before we began dating.  They were living in a  Jim Walters home, a prefabricated exterior shell of a house.  This one was essentially a three bedroom ranch, lifted one story into the air and set atop creosote telephone poles.  This design allowed the family to add the bottom floor after the top floor was completed (a task her father completed over the course of the first couple of years that we were dating).

Also on the land was an old barn with maybe eight stalls.  This allowed the family to board horses for others as well as two of their own, Baby and Gingerman.  Baby was Jack’s quarter horse, a young mare.  Gingerman was Jill’s pride and joy, a Tennessee Walker gelding standing almost sixteen hands tall.  Jill’s affinity for animals was apparent to me early.  She shared with me that she often worked out her problems while taking solitary rides with Gingerman.  The horse was an admirable listener and confidant.   Jill was an accomplished horsewoman, taking Gingerman through the piney oak woods surrounding their home.  When she wanted to stretch Gingerman’s legs she would gallop him by the power lines and for relaxation, take him down by the sound.  She was fearless on this beast, more often riding bareback than bothering with saddles. 

On an early date, Jill invited her greenhorn boyfriend to go riding.  She borrowed a horse from one of their boarders, a smallish, gentle thing named Shorty.  She of course was riding her brute bareback.  She politely inquired if her foolish boyfriend wanted a saddle.  Of course, the young man declined, after all how hard could it be to ride sans saddle (or ride a horse at all)?  Foolish youth... You already know the ending of this tale of adolescent hubris.  The boyfriend ends up thrown by the suddenly vicious Shorty who opportunistically high tails it back to the barn.  The young man endures the laughter of his riding mates and is transported for the rest of the trip on the back of Gingerman, Jill safely in control.  (A metaphor of things to come?)

Jill was something of a daredevil on this horse.  She had been to several rodeos and particularly liked watching the barrel racing.  This is an event where the contestant rides a horse at full speed around a cloverleaf of barrels, competing for the best time possible.  This is usually run with quarter horses, or other nimble breeds.  Rarely does one see a behemoth like a Tennessee Walker run in these events.  Such realities did not stop Jill from training and running her horse in this event.  I was privileged to observe her in one of her events.  A wild flash of brown hair, dust, hooves, and equine muscle pounding around one barrel and dashing to another.  Jill of course, did not win the event, but her heart and determination were an inspiration to me.

Jill’s association with horses was cut short by the intrusion of other interests (boyfriend) and obligations (work, college) and Gingerman was sold soon after Jill graduated High School.  Her horsemanship remains a favorite memory of mine, a reminder of Jill’s spirit and fearlessness, her willingness to try the unconventional, and her special love for animals that has continued to the present.