Albany Times Union

Twins' eternal bond forged in memories
A fixture on the Spa backstretch, blacksmith recalls late brother who plied the trade with him

By DAN HOWLEY , Staff writer
First published: Tuesday, August 2, 2005

POSTED WITH PERMISSION

Hoofcare & Lameness snapped this family shot at the Breeders Cup at Aqueduct in 1985. That's Hall of Fame farrier Elmer Campbell (now retired) in the middle flanked by twins Joe and Charlie. Or Charlie and Joe.

SARATOGA SPRINGS -- It had always been Joe and Charlie Campbell. One without the other would make no sense, like having just one bookend.

The affable identical twin blacksmiths had been coming to Saratoga together for 35 years. Their easy manner and ready smiles were as familiar to the shedrows in the
backstretch as the beat of horse hooves.

But this summer is different. This time there's just Joe, who keeps a picture of Charlie in the daybook next to him on the front seat of his truck and uses his brother's old hammer to help keep him near.

Charlie, who had been too weak to shoe horses since January, died of a cancerous brain tumor on July 5 at North Shore Hospital on Long Island.

"I keep waiting for him to come around the corner, but I look up in the sky and I know he's there," Joe Campbell said. "He's right on my shoulder. I think I'm in denial that he's not here, but I just know he's always with me."

The Campbell brothers, who celebrated their 53rd birthday on June 17, also plied their trade together at Aqueduct and Belmont Park, just five minutes from their homes in Bellerose Village.

"It was a bittersweet trip up the Northway this year, thinking about my brother," Joe said.

It didn't get any easier once he arrived.

We caught up with Joe at Saratoga in August, where he was filling in for his late brother Charlie as official paddock farrier.

"I still have people calling me Charlie, people who are unaware that my brother has passed away," he said. "I have to tell them, but every time it's hard to spit it out. It's hard to balance that he's not here."

Then, there are so many friends the twins have made in Saratoga who know about Charlie.

"Not a moment goes by when somebody stops and shakes my hand or puts a hand on my shoulder and says 'I'm sorry to hear about your brother,' " Joe said. "It's really a warm feeling."

Charlie Campbell was easy to like, known for his quick wit and infectious laugh.

"Charlie had a never-ending smile on his face," his brother said. "He was the kind of guy that would carry you through every day, even over the rough spots."

Fred Sellerberg is a New York Racing Association blacksmith who grew up with the Campbells on Long Island and has worked the New York circuit with the twins for three decades. He has paddock duty at Saratoga, and he had Charlie working with him there last summer, and now Joe this year.

"I still call Joe 'Charlie' every once in a while," Sellerberg said. "Charlie got along with everybody. We called him the mayor because he was friendly to everyone and always seemed to be having such a grand old time. But with Joe here, we still feel Charlie is still here, too."

As a testament to Charlie's magnetism and ability to touch people, St. Anne's Church in Garden City Park was packed for his funeral. Hot-walkers, grooms, exercise riders, trainers and owners showed up to say goodbye to a friend who could always make them laugh.

"In many ways, Charlie considered them all his family and they acted like family from the first day they found out he was sick to his last day," said Charlie's widow, Cathy, the mother of their 12-year-old daughter, Christen. "It was incredible. We were overwhelmed."

Charlie was the only blacksmith trainer Richard Schosberg had since opening his own stable in 1988. He describes his operation as moderate, with 18 horse stables at Saratoga, and said there is a bond among his staff. It hurts not having Charlie around anymore.

"Every day I expect to see Charlie's truck pull up and see him haul out his bucket of tools and start doing some work," said Schosberg, who, along with trainer Kiaran McLaughlin, organized a golf outing that raised $30,000 to help Charlie's widow and daughter. "He was part of the family, and when you lose one of the family, it's heartbreaking for all of us. When you expect somebody who's been here year after year, you can't imagine what it's like. You know something is off-kilter, something is missing, and you know what it is.

"This is some business, and sometimes the stress gets you, but in the case of Charlie, at the end of the day you know what's important. This is just horse racing. When something like this happens, it really puts things in perspective."

Schosberg, who was with Charlie when he had a dizzy spell two summers ago that led to the discovery of the tumor, brought seven of his barn staff from Belmont Park to see Charlie in the hospital. They didn't know their friend would be gone five days later.

"When he saw that whole group, he just lit up," Schosberg said. "He was laughing and joking. It was really good to see him smiling. He had the biggest smile the whole time we were there.

"After seeing him in that light, I thought maybe he can lick the infection and turn the corner, so when Joe called to tell me Charlie died, I was in total shock. I'm just glad I had the chance to go in there and brighten up one of his last days."

Blacksmithing runs deep in the Campbell blood. The twins were raised in Baltimore, right behind Pimlico, where their father, Elmer, learned the trade as a kid. Their grandfather was a blacksmith and so was his father, who started it all somewhere in Scotland.

Charlie graduated from the University of Maryland, where he studied sociology, and Joe, who once entertained thoughts of becoming a history teacher, went to Maryland for a couple of years. But the lure of the backstretch and the Campbell tradition won out.

"It funny, Saratoga is always such a great place to be, but this time it's a little tough," Joe said. "But I know he would want me to carry on and carry the name."

Joe pulled out a picture of Charlie he had tucked in his daily appointment book. "I keep it right next to me in the front seat," he said. "See, he's wearing a red shirt, just like mine, and a big smile.

"He had that smile even though he knew he was sick. He didn't let that bother him. He didn't let anything override what he was doing. He did his job, and he smiled. He had my back, I had his."

Now Joe's got his brother's hammer. Its wooden handle worn to a shine, it was given to Charlie by an uncle 30 years ago.

"Using it gives me a good feeling," Joe said. "Every time I nail on a shoe, I think of Charlie. I'm honored to use it."

All Times Union materials copyright 1996-2005, Capital Newspapers Division of The Hearst Corporation, Albany, N.Y.

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