ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times

DATE: Thursday, December 5, 1996             TAG: 9612050003
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1    EDITION: METRO 
COLUMN: BETH MACY 
DATELINE: SPRUCE RUN
SOURCE: BETH MACY 


A HORSE TALE DATING BACK TO THE EISENHOWER YEARS

Standing just inside the pasture gate, 91-year-old Robert Kessinger looks out into the field, cups his hand around his mouth and, in a voice that's pierced the rolling hills of this mountain gap for more than 80 years, hollers: ``KWOOOOOOOOP!''

He is a man of few words, this farmer, this Giles County native, this retired school-bus driver who studied in the one-room schoolhouse that still sits at the corner of his land.

Kessinger waits for the steady, familiar plod of his 37-year-old horse, a Shetland saddlebred named Fury.

``KWOOOOOOOOP!'' he hollers again.

Finally, Fury appears from behind the barn. He is not in a hurry to get his twice-daily feeding of sweet grain. He is not in a hurry for much of anything anymore, having settled into a comfortable retirement himself nearly 20 years ago - when most horses his age were thinking about that cozy stable in the sky.

But Fury has persevered, remarkably and stubbornly, much like the old man who feeds him.

Fury pouts and walks away if a visitor speaks to the other animals at the Kessinger farm before she speaks to him.

When he was younger and people still rode him, he could sense a rider's inexperience - and treated him accordingly. ``If you didn't know what you were doing, he'd get you within inches of a fence just to scare you, just to let you know who was in control,'' says Karen Snider, Kessinger's granddaughter.

Snider recalls entering him in horse shows as a teen-ager. She could show him Western-style one day, and Fury would flaunt his pokey, head-hanging-down look. The next day, she could show him English-style, and he'd prance with his head held high.

And they'd win both shows.

Fury has also won many a jousting tournament at the nearby Newport Agricultural Fair. ``The year I quit riding him and I took another horse, Fury was so mad he just kept feet-boxing the stall,'' says Darrell Kessinger, Robert's son.

When Fury joined the family, Darrell was 12 years old. Eisenhower was president. No one had heard of The Beatles.

Darrell was a teen-ager when he finally ``broke'' Fury. They were on an overnight trail ride near Mountain Lake when a bear spooked the horse, who bolted into the woods. Ten days - and many hiked miles, telephone calls and newspaper ads later - a woman called the family to report that she'd spotted the horse.

When Robert arrived in his truck and delivered his trademark ``KWOOOOOOOOP!'' Fury appeared from out of the brush. He was so glad to see Robert he refused to take his head off his owner's shoulder.

``He hopped up on my tailgate like a dog,'' Robert recalls.

After Darrell married in 1972 and moved into his own house down the road - taking Fury with him - Fury escaped twice and was found clopping down the road, heading home to Robert.

Fury retired from giving kids rides about the same time Darrell's kids tired of riding horses. Naturally, Darrell took him home to his dad's pasture, and he hasn't left since.

Though Fury isn't technically sick, his eyes look haggard and his back is swayed. The family doesn't expect him to make it through another winter.

``Last winter I didn't have no idea he'd make it through all that snow,'' Robert said. Though a hay bed was made for him in the barn, Fury chose to sleep through the blizzard the way he slept through every other night: outside on the ground.

The family likes to joke that Robert and Fury are in a contest to see which one will outlive the other.

In a family where ``homemade'' refers to such rarities as butter, cottage cheese, pound cake and custard - and where it's possible for a 91-year-old man to milk cows, feed the chickens and maintain 20/20 vision - a 37-year-old horse is just another example of tenacity.

And, apparently, not much cause for sentimentality. Asked if he loves the horse he once spent 10 days climbing the mountains in search of, Robert Kessinger paused, pinched the bill of his Farm Bureau cap and looked the other way.

``I reckon I like him - yeah,'' he said.


LENGTH: Medium:   83 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:  Family photo. Karen Snider showing Fury, English-style, 

in 1976.

by CNB