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Crossing the finish line a final time
Longtime jockey Jesse Bustamante, who died of cancer the last week of June, will always be a part of Manor Downs.
By Kevin Robbins
MANOR — The family and friends of Jesse Bustamante came to the track to see the jockey run his final race.
They gathered in the Turf Club at Manor Downs on a warm Thursday evening that threatened rain. They sipped coffee and nibbled on sliced carrots and sandwiches cut into triangles. They paged through a scrapbook from a career that took Bustamante to the Gillespie County Fair and Seguin Downs and the Czeckfest Race Meet in New Braunfels.
"He was good at what he did," said his daughter, Shannon Tabor. "This was his life. He loved it."
Bustamante died June 27 at the age of 56. He was retired from racing when the cancer took him. He rode his last race a long time ago.
But those who loved him understood that they would somehow end up back at the racetrack.
"It's my job to fulfill his wish," his daughter said.
At half-past 7, Tabor cleared her throat and asked, "Is everybody ready to go outside?" Bustamante's sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews and partners in the racing business rose from their chairs. They followed Tabor outside.
They passed the stables and the betting windows and the old green picnic tables where a handful of men smoked Swisher Sweets and scribbled things in pencil on the schedules that detailed the night's races at Fair Meadows and Penn National and Evangeline Downs.
The procession moved through the winner's circle.
Bustamante was a horseman. He was good on a thoroughbred and better on a quarterhorse, riding them on the Texas circuit and match races down in Mexico. His career included wins in New Braunfels, Junction, Seguin, Fredericksburg, Uvalde, Bandera, Boerne, Columbus and, of course, right here at Manor Downs, where Bustamante rode and trained horses a half-hour's drive from his home in Austin.
"We wore out many a pickup," observed his friend and racing partner of 35 years, Don Chambers.
"We were winners," Chambers said. "We were always winners."
Bustamante stood about 5 feet, 5 inches. He weighed about 125 pounds. He wore his dark and wavy hair long atop the best horses of the day and earned the respect of horsemen from Louisiana to New Mexico for his ability to handle a mount like he and the animals shared a soul.
"It didn't make any difference. He could set on a thoroughbred. He could set on a quarterhorse," Chambers remarked.
"He always told me, 'The feeling's in the hands.' "
The gathering that came Thursday to Manor Downs followed Bustamante's daughter to the track and noticed that the flags on the far side were flying half-staff. The soft dirt under their feet got in their shoes. They stopped at the finish line and held hands.
Shannon Tabor turned to them and said, "I just wanted to say that I thank all of you for being out here for dad.
"He wanted his ashes spread on this racetrack," she said.
Tabor asked if anyone had anything to say. Cynthia McCauley, whose horses Bustamante worked with, stepped forward in a cowboy hat and sunglasses.
"Jesse was my friend," McCauley managed. "He was my best friend. I miss him dearly."
The people said the Lord's Prayer in low voices. Tabor looked down at the gray urn in her hands and opened its lid.
She sprinkled her father on the dirt. Chambers hollered: "Yee-haw! Turn the cowboy loose!"
When the urn was empty, Chambers started to clap, and soon the 30 men, women and children at the ceremony on the racetrack were applauding.
"I guess you could say Jesse will forever be a part of Manor Downs," said track president Howard Phillips.
Everyone went back to the Turf Club to finish the coffee and carrots. Tabor and her family settled in the dining room, where television monitors suspended from the ceiling broadcast the races from Evangeline Downs. Chambers repaired to the bar for a beer. He went ahead and ordered a shot of Crown Royal. He lit a cigarette.
"He lived a full life, nothing but smiles," he said. "He's home."
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