The Story of Secretariat’s Owner, Penny Chenery (As Told by the Director of “Secretariat,” Randall Wallace)

00:00:10
Speaker 1: And we continue with our American Stories. Randall Wallace is the writer and director of films such as Braveheart, We Were Soldiers, The Man in the Iron Mask, Heaven Is for Real, Pearl Harbor, and Secretariat. Here he is to share the story of Penny Chenery, owner of the 1973 Triple Crown winner. And we’re, of course, talking about that thoroughbred, that aforementioned thoroughbred, Secretariat. Let’s take a listen.

00:00:44
Speaker 2: Penny Chenery was the owner of Secretariat. And I have made a number of films that I’ve had the incredible blessing of getting to know the actual human beings that lived the story. And Penny Chenery and Secretariat are great examples. Also, the family that Heaven Is for Real, it’s about the Burpo family. I’ve gotten to know them as well. Penny Chenery was a remarkable woman. Now, what drew the studio and others to the tale of Secretariat was obviously the achievements of the horse. But you can’t scratch the surface of that story without coming full face into Penny Chenery. She was a mother of five and basically a housewife whose father had loved horses. They owned a horse breeding farm in Virginia. And it wasn’t the kind of Lexington, Kentucky, gorgeous, picturesque, almost Norman Rockwell kind of horse farm. It was a hardscrabble place that they had. But as her father began to sink into dementia and Penny’s children were growing, and she was finding that place that many of us come to when we think, “Okay, being a parent has demanded all of my attention. But what am I going to do after that? And how am I going to demonstrate for my children the kind of person that I want them to be?” That you sacrifice time with your children if you go off to slay dragons yourself, but you also show them that you are and they are dragon slayers, and this is who we must become. So the story came across my desk. A friend of mine at Disney called me in and asked me to take a look at it, and I said right away, “This is fascinating. I would really love to do this, but I really need to spend some time with Penny Chenery.” Now, there’s a story about Penny that has nothing to do with the racehorse, but I think it’s really insightful. Penny had a guy who worked for her, who was in charge of her sort of brand management, which was a new thing about how do we deal with all of the things beyond just racing horses: that there is a brand name, there’s maybe merchandise that we could sell, other things. Well, he applied for that job with Penny, and Penny was living in a retirement community at that point, and he told me this story. His name is Leonard. Leonard said, “When I went to interview with Penny, I saw on her coffee table a picture of an older gentleman.” Penny was ninety at this point, and maybe older than ninety. And he saw a picture of an older gentleman and he said, “Penny, I’ve studied your life, and I know the faces of the men that you were married to.” But because Penny had had a couple marriages—three, I think—”and that’s not one of your husbands, who is that?” And Penny said, “Well, that’s my boyfriend.” Now Penny’s in her nineties, and he went, “Oh, your boyfriend? Oh, that’s great!” So he went back the next day to interview her again, and there was a different picture, and he said, “Wait, Penny, that’s not the same picture that was here yesterday!” And she said, “No, I’ve got three boyfriends, and I put up the different picture depending on who’s coming over.” And I said, “You get out of here! I don’t believe the story!” He goes, “Go ask her!” And I went to Penny and I said, “Penny, Leonard says you had a picture of a gentleman on it, and you said, ‘That’s my boyfriend.’” And she looked at me and she went, “So?” And I said, “Well, he said that he came back the next day, and you had a different picture because you rotate pictures based on your boyfriends who are coming over.” And she went, “So?” “Penny, you’re my hero. I want to grow up to be you when I grow up.” And I had one more tremendous insight with Penny that she shared with me. You know, I’m not into victim mentality: things that have happened that shouldn’t have happened, and that that were awful, and sometimes even worse than awful, but it’s the overcoming that’s the story we need to tell. Penny and I were at the Kentucky Derby after Secretariat had come out, and the horse racing world, of course, really loved Secretariat, and everybody was flocked around Penny. Everybody wanted to shake her hand and get a story to tell about Penny. And when the race started, the Kentucky Derby, so captivating and exciting—and everybody, we were out on the balcony. I was standing next to Penny watching the race—and the Kentucky Derby unfolded, and the race was over, and everybody in this exuberant, almost drunk with excitement, filtered back inside, and Penny and I were left alone. I was standing there at the Kentucky Derby with Penny Chenery, just the two of us, overlooking the racetrack, and I thought, “What a moment this!” This and the two of us were standing there together, and I said to her, “Penny, I gave you the best I could to tell you your story and the story of your horse, and to do it fairly and honestly. And I know to put it into two hours, we had to condense and be impressionistic in places, but we all did our very best. Is there anything that we missed, or that you haven’t shared with me?” And it’s like that song, “The Gambler.” The night got deathly quiet, the afternoon got deathly quiet around me, anyway. And Penny said, “I sat right down there in that box,” and she pointed to it. It was just twenty or thirty feet away from us. She said, “I sat there many, many afternoons by myself. The other owners tolerated me, but they never accepted me.” And she wasn’t bitter, but she was being honest, like, “This is what she faced; this is what she overcame.” And that’s why she has a great story to tell: she didn’t let that stop her. And I had an experience; she reminded me of my mother in many ways: in her strength, in her blue, blue eyes. She reminded me of my mother. And we were doing a screening of We Were Soldiers, the first public screening of We Were Soldiers for a test audience. And my father had just passed away, so a few months ago, before. So I was calling my mother every day. And I called my mother and I said, “Mama, how are you doing?” And she said, “I’m doing okay. How are you doing?” I said, “Well, I’m nervous today.” My mother said, “Why?” I said, “Well, we’re going to test the movie for a public audience. And all these critics and some amateur critics, like college film students and others, they’re going to come, and they like to write snarky comments, and critics even seem to enjoy being able to pick out the wrong things or things that they can criticize.” And my mother said, “Well, why does that make you nervous?” And I said, “Well, I put my blood, in my sweat, and my tears, and my money into this movie. It’s going to make me nervous.” And my mother said, “Honey, if they crucified Jesus, there’s going to be some people that don’t like you.”

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Speaker 1: And a terrific job on the production and editing by our own Greg Hangler, and a special thanks to Randall Wallace for sharing with us a few stories about Penny Chenery, the owner of the 1973 Triple Crown winner, Secretariat. By the way, we do our own story on Secretariat’s epic win at the Belmont Stakes, from beginning to end, and also quite a bit about Penny and the horse itself. And you heard just a little bit about the character of Penny Chenery, what she had to overcome, being a woman in those trainers’ boxes and in those owners’ boxes, and yet she overcame, triumphed, and became a legend in the business. Penny Chenery’s story: a great overcoming story, a part of a great movie, Secretariat. Here on Our American Stories.