Memories of Aqueduct Racetrack
Penny Tweedy (Chenery) and Eddie Sweat on November 6, 1973 at Aqueduct on “Farewell to Secretariat Day.”
Win Photo for either the Bay Shore or the Gotham. Left to Right: Hollis Chenery, Miggie Carmichael, Penny Tweedy (Chenery), Elizabeth Ham, Lucien Laurin, Eddie Sweat, Charlie Davis. Ron Turcotte, up.
July 4, 2026
The sad news came this week that Aqueduct Racetrack in Queens Borough, New York City, is closing for good. Horse racing fans everywhere, and New Yorkers in particular, mourn its loss.
Opening on September 27, 1894, ‘The Big A’ hosted key races for over a century and witnessed many storied battles at the finish line. It was a city favorite until racing fans began drifting away to its fancier sister track, Belmont Park. For the last few decades, it has remained a blue-collar oasis for families, horse fans, and bettors who could take the A Train to enjoy a free afternoon with the ponies. Its last race came on June 28, 2026.
Aqueduct always held special memories for the Chenery family and Meadow Stable. Back in the days when racing was one of the top sports in the nation, my granddad, Chris Chenery, knew the Aqueduct winner’s circle well. His top triumph came in 1950 when his colt, Hill Prince, sailed to victory in the Wood Memorial on his way to earning Horse of the Year honors and purses that today would have equaled $5.3 million. Later my mother, Penny Chenery, stood in same circle when our 4-year-old home-bred Riva Ridge set a world record for 1 3/16th miles in the Brooklyn Handicap.
But Secretariat had mixed luck at Aqueduct. Fifty-four years ago, on July 4, 1972, he faltered in his first race. A newbie on the track, he got mugged at the start and was blocked behind horses on the turn. Pushing hard, he ducked into the rail and came on “full of run” to finish fourth. Mom was there with our trainer, Lucien Laurin, and she remembered how he kicked a folding chair across the box, exploding, “Damn! That horse should never be beat!” Mom said that’s when she realized her big red chestnut might be extraordinary.
In his next Aqueduct foray, ten days later, Big Red won his maiden race, breaking last and then swinging wide to catch the leaders, closing “with authority.” That was the first of six victories in 1972 that would net him the remarkable title of Horse of the Year as a two-year-old.
When Secretariat came back to Aqueduct in spring of 1973, he won two stakes impressively, the Bay Shore on St. Patrick’s Day, and The Gotham on April 7. But his next race at the Big A—The Wood Memorial—was not so lucky. I remember vividly how my sister and I rode the Bettor’s Special from her apartment in Brooklyn to the track. We were dressed in linens and pantyhose, looking and feeling very out of place among the racing experts and fans. When we got there, we ascended a stairway to the owner’s boxes, a world away from the crowds on the apron. But when we made the return trip home, we felt just as dejected as the other losing bettors riding beside us.
The Disney movie Secretariat recounts dramatically how Secretariat came in third in the Wood due to a painful abscess in his mouth. That loss raised a chorus of nay-sayers in the press who suddenly dropped his odds of winning the classic races of the Triple Crown. We all know now how effectively—and spectacularly—he erased those doubts in the following 7 weeks.
His final visit to Aqueduct, on Nov. 6, 1973, was bittersweet.
Thirty-five thousand New Yorkers braved a cold wind on a day with no races just to say goodbye to their hero. Jockey Ron Turcotte paraded him onto the track and took a few turns, both of them decked out in racing regalia. Mom said Secretariat sidled and pranced peevishly when they returned to the barn. He had wanted to run.
It was at Aqueduct that the great champion left his last hoofprints on the soft dirt of a racetrack. I wonder how many fans still alive cling to that memory. It remained one of Mom’s saddest, almost as sad as Oct. 4, 1989, when her champion left this world.
I wonder what Granddad would have thought about the end of Aqueduct. After all, he was one of three men who saved New York racing in the 1950’s. The Jockey Club had appointed John W. Hayes, Harry Guggenheim, and Granddad to clean up what they termed the “disgraceful state” of corruption in New York racing.
The men proposed creating a non-profit, the Greater New York Racing Authority (now NYRA), which would funnel profits to the state. Then Granddad went on to borrow $30 million against his own credit to fund the rebuilding of Aqueduct and refurbishing of Belmont and Saratoga. Noted philanthropist and owner John Schiff wrote to Mom on Granddad’s death that “without him (Chenery), the finances to establish NYRA never could have been arranged.” Granddad, ever a practical man, might not have been surprised that Aqueduct hasn’t survived, but he would likely have been sad.
The story of Aqueduct, and the story of the owners, stables, and great equine athletes who made history there, will never be forgotten. As the Aqueduct Racetrack website said this week, it was a good run. What an understatement!
©Kate Tweedy
