Black Jack, friendly giant, mourned in Stowe

The Stowe community has known its iconic black horse, Black Jack, for 16 years as the friendly giant who would let children sit atop his back and offer short rides at the Stowe Farmers Market.

Black Jack’s human keeper, Gerry Scott, is known as the Stowe Cowboy, and could be seen having picnics in fields, cowboy hat on, horse grazing nearby.

Black Jack died July 19 at 22 years old.

When Scott talks about Black Jack, it’s in fits and starts, taking a deep breath to collect himself at times.

“I just had a crying moment there,” he says, remembering the horse that’s been the speed beneath his seat for almost two decades.

When Scott met Black Jack, the horse was six years old and bold, his black hide glossy and rippling. He’d been born and bred in North Carolina, and had been trained by Michael Plumb, a U.S. Olympic equestrian whose past glitters with silver and gold medals.

Black Jack was Scott’s dream come true.

Scott lives on Mountain Road in Stowe, and after he retired his horse Independence, he was looking for a new partner in crime.

Black Jack cost Scott $20,000. At 17 hands high — that’s almost 6 feet tall — and weighing almost 1,300 pounds, Black Jack was “the nicest horse I’ve ever ridden,” Scott said.

Scott said he’s never had a more exciting day — “to have a horse trailer come up in the beginning of the winter, and have that back gate open and have this 1,300-pound piece of magic come out of the back trailer. He was 1,300 pounds of just beautiful power. It was just amazing, to have that horse strutting around,” Scott said, remembering Black Jack’s arrival at his stables.

To build a relationship with the newly arrived Black Jack, Scott took him for 5- or 6-mile runs through the woods, full tilt — not riding him, “side by side, just you and the horse,” Scott said. “And that’s an extraordinary way to connect with the horse. You’re on their level at that point. With, not on, together. An American Indian would do something like that, would run through the forests and fields with the horse. It works incredible. I’ve done it all my life,” he said.

To Scott, the connection between man, or woman, and horse is profound, running deeper than words.

“Everyone benefits from interaction with horses. Some people need it. … For some people, it can save their life. Some people need it. There are lots of people in the world who feel disconnected. One might feel connected most of their life, but you might go through a patch when you don’t feel connected at all. The horse is an extraordinary way, far better than anything material, to help people reconnect to earth, to nature, to love, to kindness, to acceptance, to warmth,” Scott said.

That’s why he loved to share Black Jack with the Stowe community. He loved bringing him to festivals, farmers markets and around town, introducing children and adults to the mammoth animal and watching them fall in love.

“There was a woman who lived in Stowe who had an incredibly handicapped son,” Scott recalled. “Her son would basically spend the whole week talking about going to the farmers market on Sunday to see Black Jack. It was the highlight of his week, to see Black Jack. He was probably 10. He’s a grown man now,” Scott said.

Another time, Scott brought Black Jack to the Stowe Weekend of Hope, a gathering for cancer patients, survivors and their families. A woman had been eyeing Black Jack throughout the weekend, but hadn’t approached him, until she drove up to Scott and Black Jack and said she’d been looking for them. She was a horse person herself, and longed to ride him. Scott let her mount up and take Black Jack around a field.

He doesn’t know all the names of the people whose lives Black Jack touched, because there were so many. Black Jack led the Fourth of July parade in Moscow for 12 years, Scott estimates, and the Oktoberfest parade eight or nine times. He’d bring him to the Stoweflake Balloon Festival in exchange for free hot air balloon rides, which Scott would then pass on to someone who might like a chance in the air.

By the end of an average summer weekend, Scott says 150 people might have been atop Black Jack’s mountainous back.

“They’d always be shocked at how tall he was. They’d be looking down, like, ‘I can’t believe how high I am.’”

Despite Black Jack’s size, no one was scared to approach him, Scott said. “He was a really, really sweet horse. Just very kind.”

In 2003, Scott said he approached the Vermont Office of Veteran Affairs about using Black Jack as the riderless horse in the Memorial Day ceremony. Its staff welcomed the idea.

The ceremony seeks to honor fallen veterans by having a horse, bare-saddled and with backward boots in stirrups, follow a processional.

“At the end of those events on Memorial Day, the tent was filled with wives, girlfriends, sisters, fathers and mothers of soldiers from Vermont who had been killed in Iraq or Afghanistan. I would go up to the tent with Black Jack and put everybody’s kids on my horse,” Scott said.

Black Jack’s death was unexpected, Scott said. He was being pastured in Newport, and the morning of July 19, he was found dead.

He had already been buried by the time Scott arrived. Black Jack’s final resting place is in Newport.

“I have another horse buried in Stowe. He’d be buried here as well, but that’s not where he died. It’s awkward transporting a dead horse. You can’t wait long,” Scott said.

Scott’s two other horses, both half Clydesdale, have been supporting him through his grief. One, named Cherie, was particularly close to Black Jack.

“I’ve been wondering what she’s been thinking. I just drape her with affection when I see her,” Scott said.

Kim Brown, who lives in Waterbury, remembers Black Jack.

“That horse was probably among the most memorable elements of Stowe’s townscape,” Brown said. “Black Jack’s owner was misplaced from another time — he really decried that automobiles had taken over for horses. Black Jack obviously accompanied him on a Quixotic journey into the 21st century.

“Both of them were always fun to see in the most unlikely of places. They could show up trotting along the Mountain Road, appear alongside the golf course, be found up at the ski resort on a sunny day. Main Street was like a second home to Black Jack. Kids were always enamored of seeing the two of them riding along. Kids see plenty of horses here and there, usually ridden on trail rides or perhaps in dressage, but not ambling into town in the middle of a busy day.”

On Facebook, people expressed their sorrow at Black Jack’s passing.

“I remember playing in the river off the Stowe Rec Path one beautifully hot day...we turned around and up the river was this (gallant)-looking horse and rider,” wrote Carole Jeanne of Stowe. “We stood back and watched as they cooled off. Gerry introduced Black Jack to my very young horse-loving daughter. Another story was down at the Moscow ball fields (when they were still ball fields) just before the Fourth of July parade. Gerry picked Abbey right up, put her atop Black Jack and stuck his own famous black cowboy hat atop her head. She was in heaven at that moment! Rest in peace Black Jack. You will always live on in my daughter's memories.”

Lyndall Heyer of Stowe called Black Jack a “beautiful and well-mannered horse. It was such a joy to see him in the village visiting with folks and their kids on the lawn of the ice cream shop! It made Stowe that much more special! Thank you Gerry for bringing joy to our town,” Heyer wrote.

“He was a magnificent horse,” wrote Stephanie Cunningham.

“My students marched right behind Black Jack for many parades!” remembered Jane Bouffard Lambert on Facebook.