Cars, Tragedy, And One Fast Horse

Roy Chapman was always a sharp businessman, never afraid to take risks.

When car sales slumped because of the gas crunch in the 1970s, he kept his Philadelphia dealership together by shifting from new and big cars to used and smaller ones. Now the family owns seven dealerships in two states.

When tragedy nearly forced Chapman out of the horse racing game, he hung on to one little red chestnut colt named Smarty Jones. Now Chapman and his wife, Patricia, are one win away from becoming owners of a Triple Crown champion.

"He took a chance, like he did with everything in life, and now he's winning," said Steve Hunsberger, a sales representative for Chapman for more than 30 years.

Forget cars. Smarty Jones has given the Chapmans the ride of their lives.

"Of course, we're very excited," Roy Chapman said in a brief telephone interview this week. "With Lady Luck, we'll get the job done."

It hasn't been an easy journey.

For starters, Roy Chapman's health has deteriorated - a consequence of the three packs of Lucky Strikes he smoked daily for much of his life.

He travels with an oxygen tank at his side because of his emphysema, which makes his breathing labored and conversations brief. He uses a wheelchair to get around and tires easily.

Shortly after Smarty Jones won the Kentucky Derby, Chapman gave those around him a scare when he clutched his chest.

"He's got a great heart," said his son, Michael. "He wasn't actually grabbing his chest. Everyone thought he was having a heart attack. He was just excited."

The Chapmans have come a long way from when they first met.

She walked into his dealership in the mid-1970s looking for a Granada. Roy spotted her and struck up a conversation. Roy was a comical, outspoken and shrewd car dealer. Patricia, who was more reserved, was a social worker.

One thing they had in common: a love of horses.

They married a few years later, and eventually bought show horses and then got into thoroughbred racing.

Michael Chapman recalled when one of their show horses, Uncle Merlin, blew a lead at the Grand National in England, stumbling near the finish and bucking the rider off in such a comical way that the clip was replayed on ABC's "Wide World of Sports."

There have been no slip-ups on the national stage this time.

The Chapmans purchased a farm and called it Someday Farm. The reason, according to Patricia: "We talked about all the things we were going to do there someday. Someday we were going to do this, someday we were going to do that."

Like any owner, they were looking for the one horse that others overlooked.

"He'd call me up and say, 'What do you have in inventory?' He was trying to place car values on them," said Mark Reid, the Chapman's former trainer.

After Reid moved on, they hired Bob Camac to run horses at Philadelphia Park. Camac suggested breeding I'll Get Along with the stallion Elusive Quality, and on Feb. 28, 2001, Smarty Jones was born.

The colt was named after Patricia's mother, who was nicknamed "Smarty." Camac saw early signs the horse could be something special.

But a few months later Camac and his wife were slain at their farm in New Jersey, prompting the Chapmans to consider getting out of horse racing for good.

They sold off Someday Farm and nearly all their horses except for two, one of which was Smarty Jones. The farm manager at Bridlewood Farm in Ocala, Fla., where the horse was training, told the Chapmans they might finally have what they'd been waiting for.

So, when Smarty Jones returned to Pennsylvania last year, they sent the horse to a friend of Camac's - John Servis, a trainer at Philly Park also waiting for his shot at the big time.

Together, they made the most of their opportunity. Servis guided Smarty to wins in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness, earning the Chapmans' trust in the process.

"To have a horse like that and not want to at least put your hand in and get involved more, that's tough to do," Servis said. "The fact that he sat back and let me do my thing, and has been more than generous with my help, myself, my family, just says a lot about their character."

While bettors and casual fans are pulling for Smarty Jones to win Saturday's Belmont and become the first Triple Crown champion since 1978, the Derby victory was enough for the Chapmans.

All the other success has been a bonus, turning their quiet life into fodder for potential book and movie deals.

"All we really wanted was a horse who could just get us to the Derby," Patricia Chapman said.

They got far more than that.

The Chapmans' original dealership in northeast Philadelphia is now Smarty Jones headquarters. Banners outside read "Home of Smarty Jones," and a pop-up on their Web site directs users to Team Smarty's address. A friendly voice answers at the dealership with, "Chapman Ford, home of Smarty Jones, how may I direct your call?"

Smarty Jones hats are given away with every test drive. Michael Chapman, who now runs the dealerships with his brother Randy, said business has picked up. Customers, though, are often disappointed when they don't see the horse in the showroom.

When Roy Chapman made a recent impromptu stop at his dealership, he promised everyone he would come back after the Belmont and take them all out for lunch.

"He has a family of employees he's not going to let down," Hunsberger said.

Those employees are among the few people who have seen the Chapmans since the Preakness.

After winning at Pimlico, Chappy joked he and Patricia would take up residence in Alaska. They didn't retreat quite that far, instead going back to their home near New Hope, Pa. But they have laid low, refusing almost all interviews.

"I see why celebrities kind of get upset when people bother them," Michael said.

Perhaps they better get used to it. More fame and more money - Smarty is on the brink of becoming the biggest money-winner in racing history - might be rolling their way.

Someday has finally come for the Chapmans.

By Dan Gelston