The most celebrated jockey in the annals of horseracing lived in Canada — but kept a post-office box in Van Buren, Maine.
Hall of Famer Ron Turcotte, who rode Secretariat to the Triple Crown in 1973, died Friday in Drummond, New Brunswick, his hometown just across the Maine border.
The 5’1” self-effacing jockey spent a lot of time in Aroostook County, which was like a second home to him.
Turcotte had so many friends and roots in Van Buren he ended up getting his mail there.
Imagine, the world’s greatest jockey crossing the international border – just to pick up his mail.
But imagining was what working-class lumberjack Turcotte parlayed into a stunning story of success in the high-brow world of racing horses.
He won the Kentucky Derby, Preakness and Belmont Stakes twice each, most notably sweeping the three in 1973 with Secretariat to end horse racing’s Triple Crown drought that dated to Citation in 1948.
Secretariat’s record time of 2:24 in the Belmont, winning by an astounding 31 lengths – imagine, 31 – still stands 52 years later.
Turcotte won more than 3,000 races over a nearly two-decade career that ended in 1978 when he fell off a horse early in a race and suffered injuries that made him paraplegic.
Permanently Disabled Jockeys Fund chairman William J. Punk called Turcotte one of the sport’s greatest champions and ambassadors and praised him for his advocacy and efforts to help fellow fallen riders.
He was inducted into the National Museum of Racing Hall of Fame in 1979.
Turcotte won the Preakness in 1965 aboard Tom Rolfe and the Derby in 1972 with Riva Ridge.
But it was his time with Secretariat that made Turcotte a household name in racing, and he called it “love at first ride.”
“He was the type of horse that you’ll never see again,” Turcotte said in 2023, nearly 50 years to the day since riding Secretariat in the Belmont.
“He was doing something that you’ve never seen before and will probably never see again.”
Secretariat’s Triple Crown campaign and Turcotte’s association with the Meadow Stable champion were depicted in the 2010 Disney Studios film Secretariat.
Turcotte also was the subject of the 2013 award-winning documentary “Secretariat’s Jockey: Ron Turcotte,” produced by the National Film Board of Canada, as well as several books, including his 1992 biography “The Will to Win” by Bill Heller and recently published “The Turcottes” by Curtis Stock.
On his July 22 birthday this year, Turcotte was honored with a gubernatorial proclamation recognizing his accomplishments and “his connections to Van Buren, Maine.”
On the 50-year anniversary of the Triple Crown win two years ago, Turcotte spoke about being the passenger of Secretariat on June 9, 1973 at Belmont Park, when the colt won the Belmont Stakes by those unprecedented 31 lengths.
“I kept hearing the hoofbeats from the others getting further and further back,” Turcotte recalled. “I could hear them fading away. He was just so relaxed the whole way that I knew he would run all day. He was a super-horse.”
“I only looked back once around the turn when the announcer said he was 22 lengths in front. I just wanted to see what 22 lengths in front looked like. I had to look across the track and that’s when I saw the clock turn 1:59 (at 1.25 miles) which was faster than what he ran in the Kentucky Derby. The only reason I had turned a little bit was because I was watching the timer and what time it would stop. Every sixteenth of a mile, he was breaking track records all the way throughout the lane.”
“He was such a magnificent horse,” the jockey continued. “He was such a ham, and yet so capable of doing anything on the racetrack. We were good partners, and we never fought each other. He loved to play. He was lovable. It was love at first sight when I first saw him as a baby when he came in from the farm.”
Triple Crown champion, record-setting jockey Ron Turcotte could have had his mail delivered to his doorstep – in Canada where he lived – in a limousine.
But the everyday-guy Turcotte kept a post office box in Van Buren, Maine.
RIP to the Greatest Ambassador Of Horseracing In History, a title far more important to the friend of Maine than any of his incredible athletic accomplishments.
