BornFree: What wonderful memories you probably have! She was tough and strong and there are few of her breed still remaining. I sure that that was a challenging and highly educational work experience!
Mrs. Hannum encouraged me to hunt with Cheshire when I was young. I was just an 11 year old horse show rider from New England but I was enthralled by the hunt every time I went to visit my Aunt and Uncle (who live in Unionville). Mrs. Hannum allowed me to car-follow with her (which might have been more dangerous than hunting itself!). Her jack russell, Journey, sat on my lap and I held on for dear life as we flew over hill and dale in her Jeep Wagoneer. Many people said that she often forgot that she was not on a horse and I think that they’re probably right. I had some of my best views with Mrs. Hannum: she truly thought like a fox!
One car following memory that will never be erased form my memory: at about the age of 11, Mrs. Hannum and I witnessed a horse near the end of the field having a heart attack. I was stunned and already knew well enough to keep a stiff upper lip in Mrs. Hannum’s presence despite the fact that I was on the verge of tears. She approached the struggling horse in her jeep, threw it into park and pulled a gun out of the glove box in front of me. She said, matter-of-factly, “Well, we’d better do something about this poor horse. Would you like to do the honors?” Stunned, I stared blankly at her for a moment and then replied, “I don’t know how.” I had not idea what else to say! She replied “It’s very simple: draw an “x” from the left ear to the right eye an the right eye to the left ear and shoot in the middle.” I was trembling as we exited the car. By the time we got to the horse, he was already gone. Thank heavens. Mrs. Hannum, however, saw it as a lost learning opportunity for me. Little did she know that in that day I had already learned so much about life, death and the fragility of horses.
At the age of 12, I finally convinced my family to let me hunt and had the time of my life! I borrowed a pony from the huntsman’s wife (named Sir Dandelion) and hunted in Mrs. Powell’s pocket with the first flight. I found out afterwards that the pony had never hunted before that day! (I suppose ignorance really was bliss… for the pony and me!) After we had hacked home, Mrs. Hannum came flying up my Aunt and Uncle’s driveway at top speed. She got out of her wagoneer and made a bee-line for me, covered in mud and bathing the grey pony in the wash stall. Given her frank nature and high standards, I cringed. However, my fear were for naught: she said that she hoped that I had enjoyed my first hunt and encouraged me to come back again. That’s what was so wonderful about Mrs. Hannum: she was a tough critic, but she awarded praise where she felt that praise was due.
It was so kind of her to encourage me and to welcome me personally into the fold. In those days it was still “her” hunt ,and her personal acceptance was the highest compliment. She always encouraged young people to take up foxhunting. She told me that encouraging young people to hunt was like preserving open space: it assured her that the things that she cherished would continue on long after she was gone.
Inspired in part by Mrs. Hannum’s passion for Unionville, I moved tot he area seven years ago while in college. I left almost a year ago to attend law school, but Unionville is still very dear to me. I still hope that someday I will return…
(I am sorry for the excessively long post, but I felt compelled to share some of my most cherished memories.)
