Bonding with the horses: If it's 5 a.m. at Churchill Downs, you'll find Harold Joseph

Harold Joseph walks another lap.

From 5 until 10 a.m., seven days a week from spring to fall, he moves forward ― well, really in a circle.

But he's never alone.

Some mornings he's next to Yo Leven or Closing Prayer, both 3-year-old fillies. While the names of the thoroughbreds have changed over the years, the walk is the same 264 feet, over and over for 20 minutes. It's a path of loose dirt in trainer James Bakers' shedrow on the backside of Churchill Downs.

"It’s exercise for me," he said. "Being 70, I need this. ... And I get to bond with them, too. The way I see it, we’re all the same ― just a different form and a different language ― but we’re all doing the one thing we have to do ... live."

People touring the horse barns of Churchill Downs during Derby Week glance at Joseph as he bathes a thoroughbred, then keep on perusing. They are in search of a Derby contender or a horse they can pet, maybe even feed a mint. None of them knows why the 70-year-old man with dreads wakes up at 4 a.m., day after day to work with his hands.

Here's why:

Born in Detriot the son of a racetracker, Joseph learned how to groom horses from his father, August, who also used to gallop them.

When Harold dropped out of school in the eighth grade, he learned life's lessons instead from horses. That was back when pop was 6 cents.

"Two cookies were a penny," Joseph said. "When a penny had value."

When horses had a different value. When a Black man in the horse racing industry wasn't seen as an anomaly.

Joseph became a groom and a hotwalker, taking care of the most premiere equine athletes in the world ― even if it does include mucking stalls and giving baths.

"Taking care of a horse is like being a fighter pilot," Joseph said. "This man entrusted this horse to me to take care of. He may have paid $100,000 for this horse. He's in my stall. So, I'm going to do the best I can."

From the racing circuit between Detroit to New Orleans to Louisville, he learned the foreign language of animals.

"Animals understand all language," he said. "I hate when people say 'Woah' or 'Ho!' Hey man, talk to the horse. You're talking to her like she's less than you, and she's not. She understands."

He's a hands-on learner. His understanding of a horse has earned him admiration from Kentucky horsemen.

"I don’t care if they run for $5 million or $5,000," he said. "It makes no difference. They’re all the same animal, and they don’t know what they run for. We put the value on what they run for."

Outside of horses, he loves to draw and to read. That's how he knew, a couple of December ago while staying in the dorms on the backside of Churchill Downs, that he was experiencing stroke symptoms.

"I called 9-1-1 so quick," he said.

His early recognition saved his life. He was back at the track walking horses a couple of days later.

"Sometimes I look in their eyes and I wonder what they're thinking about me," he said. "I'm looking at you, but you’re looking at me, too. What do you think about me?"

He took a few more steps with a 2-year-old filly he thinks could be a contender in next year's Oaks.

"I hope she thinks I’m a good person," he said. "I think she can feel that."

S tephanie Kuzydym is an enterprise and investigative reporter. She can be reached at skuzydym@courier-journal.com . Follow her for updates at @stephkuzy .

This article originally appeared on Louisville Courier Journal: Bonding with the horses: If it's 5 a.m. at Churchill Downs, you'll find Harold Joseph