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Sarge knows all the horses, the way they work, what makes them tick. 'You love them all, the good and the bad,' he says
One sight I will never for-get ...
Bay St. at Charles. The Yonge St. Riot has just begun.
I am beside the last of 11 horses strung across Bay.
Eleven police mounts, snorting and champing at their curb bits as the sun sets.
Suddenly, from every alley and corner and fence, chunks of patio stones rain down
The goons rip them from sidewalk planters.
The horses hold. I do not know how. Belgians, Percherons, Morgans, mixes, 1,500 pounds each.
The cops have helmets, but back then the horses do not. One, Trillium, gets a brick between the eyes.
You can hear the crrraaack a block away.
"She buckled," Sgt. Graham Acott remembers. "It was all I could do to keep her upright."
Trillium's eyes roll, her nose pours blood, but she stays on her hooves all that shocking, disgraceful night in 1992.
MARE DIED LAST YEAR
The mare died last year, but Acott is still kicking. He has trained countless steeds, including Brigadier, the chestnut gelding run down in a deliberate hit and run Friday night.
Brig, they called him.
"A little stubborn," says the laconic Acott, "but a good horse right off the bat."
The sarge has just finished a lesson with some of the Toronto Police mounted unit, at its ring in the CNE's Horse Palace.
There are Winter (Winnie) Sun and Royal Sun, donated by this paper and the Royal Winter Fair.
There, too, is a dazzling dapple grey named Blue Moon. His stall is next to Brig's, No. 8, which is the one now garnished with flowers and an empty, gleaming halter.
Blue Moon was on patrol with Brigadier Friday night. The pair were a daunting sight in the crime turf around Morningside and Lawrence. That is the idea, of course.
"You can see farther," says unit boss Staff-Insp. Bill Wardle. "And people can see you."
A cop on horseback is good PR. Mighty handy, too, at 4 a.m. in the downtown nightclub zone when drunks are picking fights.
Better surely than water cannon or teargas or attack dogs. Worth 10, 15 cops on foot.
Wardle gave the order to shoot Brig. He saw the snapped leg and the poor horse struggling to rise and flee the pain.
An ETF officer pulled the trigger.
It still chokes Wardle up. "A worse tragedy because two men who meant the most to him were there.
"You could see it in their faces."
Brig's rider, Const. Kevin Bradfield was injured but is mending. Const. Ronnie Gilbert was on Blue Moon. But Brigadier had mostly been his mount.
Const. Ted Gallipeau was his first rider.
"A horse is like your child," says Gallipeau. "You muck 'em out first thing in the morning, you feed 'em and get 'em dressed, then take 'em out."
So you know your horse like you know your kid.
Brigadier was a big lug, just over 16 hands tall, a reliable Belgian tank.
Only trains spooked him, who knows why. Maybe the vibration.
At Fort York one time, a GO Train made him bolt. Gallipeau had to spin in tight circles to stop him. But in a stable of 27, he was the best with kids. Always the "pony" ride. Women were crazy about him, too. Those big eyes and that blond tail.
"A real charmer," says Gallipeau. Feed him an apple core and he was yours for life.
Brig was at his prime. Eight years old, four on the force. His death, so wanton, has shaken the stable.
His saddle sits forlornly in Gallipeau's tack room, pommel and breastplate torn in the collision.
This is a tight crew, steeped in romance and history. Wardle even wrote a book,The Mounted Squad.
The horses have names like Sarge and Boot and Juno Beach and Honest Ed.
SERVICE AT RICOH
"Who knows for sure, but I think they sense something is wrong," says Gallipeau.
"They're herd animals and one of the herd is missing."
There will be a memorial service for Brigadier at Ricoh Coliseum next Monday at 10 a.m.
"I know all these horses," says Graham Acott. "The way they work, what makes them tick. You love them all, the good and the bad."
Says Ted Gallipeau: "This is hard to take. It's a member of your family."
One sight I will never for-get ...
Bay St. at Charles. The Yonge St. Riot has just begun.
I am beside the last of 11 horses strung across Bay.
Eleven police mounts, snorting and champing at their curb bits as the sun sets.
Suddenly, from every alley and corner and fence, chunks of patio stones rain down
The goons rip them from sidewalk planters.
The horses hold. I do not know how. Belgians, Percherons, Morgans, mixes, 1,500 pounds each.
The cops have helmets, but back then the horses do not. One, Trillium, gets a brick between the eyes.
You can hear the crrraaack a block away.
"She buckled," Sgt. Graham Acott remembers. "It was all I could do to keep her upright."
Trillium's eyes roll, her nose pours blood, but she stays on her hooves all that shocking, disgraceful night in 1992.
MARE DIED LAST YEAR
The mare died last year, but Acott is still kicking. He has trained countless steeds, including Brigadier, the chestnut gelding run down in a deliberate hit and run Friday night.
Brig, they called him.
"A little stubborn," says the laconic Acott, "but a good horse right off the bat."
The sarge has just finished a lesson with some of the Toronto Police mounted unit, at its ring in the CNE's Horse Palace.
There are Winter (Winnie) Sun and Royal Sun, donated by this paper and the Royal Winter Fair.
There, too, is a dazzling dapple grey named Blue Moon. His stall is next to Brig's, No. 8, which is the one now garnished with flowers and an empty, gleaming halter.
Blue Moon was on patrol with Brigadier Friday night. The pair were a daunting sight in the crime turf around Morningside and Lawrence. That is the idea, of course.
"You can see farther," says unit boss Staff-Insp. Bill Wardle. "And people can see you."
A cop on horseback is good PR. Mighty handy, too, at 4 a.m. in the downtown nightclub zone when drunks are picking fights.
Better surely than water cannon or teargas or attack dogs. Worth 10, 15 cops on foot.
Wardle gave the order to shoot Brig. He saw the snapped leg and the poor horse struggling to rise and flee the pain.
An ETF officer pulled the trigger.
It still chokes Wardle up. "A worse tragedy because two men who meant the most to him were there.
"You could see it in their faces."
Brig's rider, Const. Kevin Bradfield was injured but is mending. Const. Ronnie Gilbert was on Blue Moon. But Brigadier had mostly been his mount.
Const. Ted Gallipeau was his first rider.
"A horse is like your child," says Gallipeau. "You muck 'em out first thing in the morning, you feed 'em and get 'em dressed, then take 'em out."
So you know your horse like you know your kid.
Brigadier was a big lug, just over 16 hands tall, a reliable Belgian tank.
Only trains spooked him, who knows why. Maybe the vibration.
At Fort York one time, a GO Train made him bolt. Gallipeau had to spin in tight circles to stop him. But in a stable of 27, he was the best with kids. Always the "pony" ride. Women were crazy about him, too. Those big eyes and that blond tail.
"A real charmer," says Gallipeau. Feed him an apple core and he was yours for life.
Brig was at his prime. Eight years old, four on the force. His death, so wanton, has shaken the stable.
His saddle sits forlornly in Gallipeau's tack room, pommel and breastplate torn in the collision.
This is a tight crew, steeped in romance and history. Wardle even wrote a book,The Mounted Squad.
The horses have names like Sarge and Boot and Juno Beach and Honest Ed.
SERVICE AT RICOH
"Who knows for sure, but I think they sense something is wrong," says Gallipeau.
"They're herd animals and one of the herd is missing."
There will be a memorial service for Brigadier at Ricoh Coliseum next Monday at 10 a.m.
"I know all these horses," says Graham Acott. "The way they work, what makes them tick. You love them all, the good and the bad."
Says Ted Gallipeau: "This is hard to take. It's a member of your family."