SAL STORIES

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There have been many famous people in U.S history we all remember like Davey Crockett, Daniel Boone, Wyatt Earp and Sue Sally Hale. They were all the same in many ways. Davey Crockett went were no one had ever been. Sue Sal went where no woman had ever been, Sunday Polo. Daniel Boone would not walk away and the same with Sue Sal. She was not going away. She was one who made the last stand and was still standing. Like Mr. Earp he did what he wanted to with a fast six gun and Sue Sal did what she wanted to with a fast horse and much the same because she  wanted to. Sue Sally was the Grand Lady of polo and you guessed it, she wanted to be . She was and will always be one of the famous people in polo and history in California because she was Sue Sally Hale. She rode a Mule when others rode a horse and she kept a possum when others kept a cat. The one thing that probably 60% of the people in California polo have in common is somehow Sue Sally touched their lives. She probably helped your groom, your patron or your pro sometime, somewhere somehow. She may have helped you personally, that was the way she was. Two weeks ago, in the lady's tournament at Eldorado Polo Club, she took  her team to the trophy table. Her team put a whipping on the other team and she did a lot of the work herself. Scoring goals, stealing the ball  from K.B. and flying down the field, bandana flying and using one rein on a multi-colored horse and winning the way she wanted because she wanted to. Well now it will be a real test up there in the polo field in the sky. Big Gee will have to settle it all as Big Artie and Sue Sally must share the same field and the same line. So long Sue Sally. You will be forever be famous in polo history because we want you to be !! Our thoughts go out to her family and many, many friends.  
Steve Crowder

Over fifty years ago my family moved into a house in Pacific Palisades, California. While carrying things into the house, I looked up and on the rise next to our driveway, I saw two Indian warriors, mounted, horses and warriors completely painted in horrifying colors. I wisely went inside to hide under the dining room table. Happily, those two didn't attack, but the friendship lasted all this time. Sue Sally Jones Hale and Terry O'Reilly Kristiansen I never met her Dad: screenwriter Grover Jones. Her mom Suzie made Christmas chowder for us kids after caroling (horseback, of course) but I don't remember if we cared much about the road apples we left in David Niven's, or Ronald Reagan's, driveways. Neither cared, both were marvelous surprised hosts! Sal knew the words, and of course rode the best. Dickie, Unca' Dickie, helped us kids avoid the red rooster that chased kids at the barn. Dickie and Suzie married (Stunt man awards are named after Dickie, Richard Talmadge, the Talmadge awards.)and lived in Carmel Valley. Sal ultimately had a big goose who was as belligerent as the rooster, but only in a protective mode! Then there was the dog that walked by Sal's side, holding her hand in his mouth. When Sal married Alex, I was in a full leg cast and the only pants I could pull on were rawhide with buckskin fringe. Might as well wear the buckskin shirt to the wedding, which I did. I was, uh, noticeable at the wedding, but even though limping slightly with her bad feet, Sal hit me on the head with her bouquet, accompanied by her wonderful smile. Suzie knew her daughter, so I was merely a surprise. Ah yes, that first house in Carmel Valley. The kitchen window overlooking the bathtub. Which had feathers from the goose. The second house in CV, bigger and room for a summer camp. Yes, Sal knew  that I would best any and all campers in a bareback water fight in the creek, I learned the techniques from playing horseback on Zuma Beach, learned the hard way from Sal. Sal also knew I was gullible, so when the campers gained revenge by putting pollywogs in carrot salad and telling me they were raisins, I cleaned my plate. And rode that evening and the next morning! Last saw her play years ago at a demo in Scottsdale. She and two other ladies beat the local males, which included a descendant of Will Rogers. That was appropriate because the Will Rogers Polo Field in Palisades was where Sal started playing. (At an early age  she gave up her other career goal, rodeo, in lieu of nearby polo.) So many happy memories. Hard to marshall them with tears in my eyes. Somehow, I hope others hear of her passing and also have weepy memories.  Lorn, Janey, Maria. There is a heaven for horses and people, and now Crownie the Wonder Horse is telling Buckie, Willy and others that Sal is home. Thank you lady, thanks for the possum cartoons, the bad jokes, the spaghetti, the cute way you said "oh, I know, I know", thanks for getting the  horse INTO the east end of the John Thomas Dye School (Bel Air Town and  Country, on the hill) and thanks for more than I'll ever remember. Yes, I did "date" her once, we went to see a western movie. Unbeknownst  to me, she had her yellow cat "Thumper" hidden in her purse.  Unbeknownst to her, I was allergic to cats. Hilarious? Oh my yes!    
Jeff Place, Prescott Arizona

I never had a sister, but Sal comes very close to being one. My  husband knew her as a little girl with pig tails around the old Riviera Polo Club in West LA. She was always on a horse having tons of fun. I met Sal after JRS and I married and she became a part of our family and visa versa. Our daughter Tina lived with her in Carmel Valley while we went off to various places. Sal mounted her well and gave her all sorts of equine challenges. Along about that time in our family’s life, 1973-75 we were aspiring to have an Interscholastic team and Sal welcomed the boys all from Texas, put them up, mounted them and they  took on the Robert Louis Stephenson team.Of course they had a blast and a team was born. To those who knew her this was so typical of her  generosity and encouragement to aspiring new players. One year we did  and exchange and Sal brought her students out to Texas for a horse show  and we mounted them. I particularly remember Josh Hall as he piloted one of our horses around the jump courses under Sal’s tutaledge. I don’t  think that that was his favorite activity but he really got into paddle ball against the wall of our house. Later we heard he had become a vet’ specializing in equines. On that same trip, Sal always an optimist and nothing being impossible, got me up at dawn to practice for our Pas de  Deux, when we just didn’t have time or the place to do it. We went out  in the Mesquite and ran through our routine and I got to laughing so at her that I could barely ride, but we won later in the day. Years later Sal came back to Texas with her family to play polo and it really rained. Not to be daunted she went to town and bought beach balls and  got the whole club out in a pasture to stick and ball. After the horses  got over the shock of these big yellow and pink balls coming at them, everyone had a hilarious time and some great practice. When Sal’s Mom died, she gave Tina some of her Mom’s treasures that she knew Tina would enjoy. Frequently she would call just to say Hi and to tell us  about her great grey horse or her Affletecky (or whatever it is!), just a  fun, short chat. She was always taking care of someone and Tony Veen , our mutual friend, lived at Sal’s and she took good care of him almost  to the last. She had more pictures on her walls than anyone could  imagine and almost all of them were of horses, bygone film days and of course polo. How she had time to work her string of ponies and paint amazed me, but she turned out some incredible art work, which she was so  generous with. Her paintings were quickly done and captured the true  essence of how a horse moved and the game of polo. Sal really knew how to use a horse to its fullest and yet not harm it. She knew its limitations and hers and she appreciated a good horse whether it was a Clydesdale or a Mini. If it had four legs she played it and did so very  well. I don’t know anyone who gave more of themselves to riding and to helping others also learn to ride and to enjoy jumping, eventing, gymkhana, team penning, polo or whatever the day called for. She had a  nice house but chose to let others live in it while she lived in her barn right beside her beloved horses, cats, dogs, geese, chickens, goat, ginneas, possums and critters. One day she went into the bathroom and  the goat, who is quite portly laid down in front of the door and went to  sleep. Sal couldn’t get the door open until finally someone came along and heard her and got the goat to move.Sal leaves us with a great void. There just isn’t another like her, but one thing for sure if  anyone can, she’s the one to teach St Peter how to play polo. 

Marcie Stimmel

My father first played with Sue Sally in the 50’s in LA. They were good friends for many years and he even had the chance to visit the Carmel Valley Ranch in the 60’s and we all played one Sunday. I was in school at RLS from ’67 to ’71. I slept on the Hale sofa a lot of nights when I was supposed to be in the dorm. One of my favorite memories was the year that the team anchored by Prince Philip was touring the US and  had stopped for an exhibition of Sunday pomp and grandeur at the Pebble  Beach field. On the following Wednesday Sue Sally called me at school and said, “They’re on their way to Carmel Valley to play get out here!” I hitchhiked the ten miles to the house and then waded across the river to find her waiting with a horse for me. A half dozen of us were on the  field when the royals came up the long dirt road in convertibles. That afternoon was the kind of event that only Sue Sally Hale could have pulled together. The year Brook was born she played until the eighth month and then the doctor told her she had to switch to umpiring. I worked for her the year after high school, she didn’t pay me enough to eat on and then she fired me; I loved her none the less. All my best to the Kids, the world is a better place because she was in it. 

Bob Wintringer 

Sue Sal was my soul mate. She made more sense to me than any person I've ever known. I met her for the first time at the fairgrounds in Paso Robles while we both attended a horse trials in Templeton, and we became fast friends. As often as I could, I would haul up to her barn in Carmel Valley to spend time riding and learning from her. What wonderful times those were - riding in the truck piled high with kids and dogs,  forging the river on our horses to get from the barn to the house,  galloping over the 40 acres of cross-country jumps, stick & balling on the polo field, and going together to see Star Wars for the first  time. She was the best of friends and a terrific teacher ("more leg,  Nancy, more leg!"). I loved Sal, and I loved her kids. When Sal moved to Texas, to develop women's polo at Willow Bend, I tagged along. What an experience! We (Sal, me, and her kids) lived in an old farmhouse a couple of miles from the club. We turned our horses out in a large pasture next to the house and usually ponied our horses over to the club for work or games. This was the summer of 1980 - heat wave in Plano, where the days were 113 degrees every day for six weeks. Then to make  matters worse, the well went dry - we would all take turns getting in the shower to let a few cupfuls of water dribble over us. Temps at night "cooled" down to 80 - we slept with fans on us. We hauled in water for the horses daily, and a little for ourselves. But we had a really great  time and a lot of laughs in spite of the heat, lack of water, and tornado warnings - we even survived the snake that lived in the tree.  Sal never lost her positive attitude and good humor about the situation -  a hallmark of her personality. Some years later, in Moorpark, I would join Sal & Company again to ride and laugh and work hard at all we did. I have but one regret - over the years, after I moved away to Oregon and Sal moved to the desert, we lost touch. I have been thinking about Sal a lot the last few months, feeling a great need to contact her and check in - but I waited too long. I still feel a part of Sal in me and always will. Sal was a one-of-a-kind human being - as good as it  gets. I love you, Sue Sal - happy trails!

Nancy Wild ("Nanny" to Sal) 

I was so sad to here about the passing of my Aunt Sue Sal by a friend who lives in the desert. It was in the paper. I missed out on the memorial but I am sure it was very special. When one of these memorials talked about camp and Crownie, Bucky, Willy, and Thumper the tears just came. I don't know if she ever knew the joy she gave to this little "city" girl who used to love going to buy my cowboy boots and jeans for camp each summer in Carmel. I certainly was no horsewoman but I just loved being around her. Everyone is right, she was someone very, very  special. I call it the "light", she had it tenfold. She was larger than life. I first met her when my Uncle Alex was dating the "indian woman with feathers and a cat draped over her shoulders. She was cool and  different and I was fascinated! I saw her play as "Alex Hale" in a polo tournament at the Will Rogers Polo grounds. Being an athlete myself, I totally got her "obsession" with her sport and what joy it brought her to play. I knew all the kids as babies and me and my siblings spent a whole summer at their house when times were challenging forour family. A  cook, she was not. But, it was always filling. :-) I'll never forget the times when we would ride the horses down to the beach at Point Lobos for a bonfire and marshmellows. Sue Sal would go into the ocean, way out, and play with the seals. She was the real "Mother of Nature." To my cousins who I haven't seen for some time, "I know you had to share your mother with the world but, never forget that she loved you more than you can even imagine." I miss our times at Uncle Al's for Thanksgiving,  my sister Stephanie does too. Although we were never close, just know  that I knew you all when you were sweet, innocent little babies and you were so cute and lovable. I miss Grandma Hale and your grandmother Susie  so much. You were so lucky to spend so much time with them. Aren't we  all lucky to have had these strong, incredible women in our lives.  Although I never had children, I am a school Principal now and I try my best to make a difference in the lives of all of the children I am fortunate enough to have in my life. Your mother did! Aunt Sue Sal,  thanks for all you are and rest in peace that your life was a life well spent. Bravo, little indian girl!!!!!
Laura Ann Hale 

Some friends and I were having discussions about early horse  experiences tonight - we all have saluki dogs and live all over the country. I mentioned that I had ridden in Malibu and Sullivan Canyon in the mid/late 50s - first with a man named Egon Mertz and then with a young woman named Sue Sally Hale. What a coincidence that a friend now living in Portland grew up in Pacific Palisades overlooking Will Rogers Park and also rode with Egon Mertz and in Sullivan Canyon on Fridays!  Another friend did a web search for Sue Sally Hale and sent me the links. I have been sitting here reading the articles and the loving memories people have of her and thinking what an exceptional person she was. I am so sorry to learn she is no longer living, and I'm feeling quite sad about that. I did see Sue Sal again at the Menlo Circus Club in Atherton, California when I was an adult and she was living in Carmel Valley, and I had a horse again, of course, but was involved with  dressage and some jumping. My still happy memories of Sue Sal are the rides we took on weekend mornings in Sullivan Canyon on Elizabeth  Whitney's thoroughbreds that Sue Sal was using for polo. The one I loved  best was a heavily ticked grey, and the few of us lucky enough to be there rode through the hills on bareback pads, wending our way through the trees and shrubs growing on the hillsides. I met Sue Sal at Deer Springs summer camp in Malibu in 1958, if my childhood memory is correct, when she was the riding instructor. When camp ended, my mother, who thought very highly of Sue Sal, found that she also taught riding  during the rest of the year, and so the memorable weekend mornings on  those gorgeous thoroughbreds came into my life .And so, I thought I would share those very long ago memories of an exceptional woman who  even in her young years managed to provide me with remembered pleasures 46 years later. I am very sad to know she is gone.

Laurie Lehman

I spent the most influential years of my life living with Sal (from 8 to  15 years old). She taught me so much about working hard, being strong, and how to laugh when times are hard. I was so lucky to have Sal and Sunny as my role-models during these years. Everyone knows about Sal's own way of doing things, and these are a few of my favorites: Stitching  up horse wounds with dental floss,"letting" us do road trips in the  nose of the trailer (with the tack and feed... and the lovely smell of  the trailer), Keeping the water troughs clean with gold fish (to eat the  algae), Building a friendship between a horse and a duck, convincing us that peanut butter, mayonnaise and lettuce sandwiches were delicious, sending Sunny on one of the horses down the side of a freeway, bareback  with a halter, in the middle of the night, to find a gas station when the trailer broke down (a common occurence), using plyers to pull out  her wisdom tooth, etc. etc. etc. I could go on forever. The most  exciting years of my life so far are definitely those spent living with Sal. She is a huge part of who I am today and I am grateful that my mom and I had the chance to be a part of her life.
Rima Akkad 

Without a doubt, this is one of the most difficult moments for anyone to find the words that would suffice as honorable enough to pay respects to such a legend. To stand before the memory of such a woman and the presence of such a distinguished friends of hers, truly puts a  person in a position of reservation. It should not be the intention of any of us to try and find words that will ease the grief which has come upon our hearts, or to honor her with that which is due, for we will surely fail. Such a task is far beyond the mechanics of words. But let us celebrate the gift that she was in our lives. Now I find myself in a position, which desperately seeks words to truly pay homage to such a woman, and Sal, well her words from now on will echo in our hearts in  the form of our guardian angel. She was truly a mother to all of us in the polo community. She made us swallow the medicines of life and  polo which we did not want, to see the lessons and values we didn't see, to behave and perform the way that is proper of conduct in a game ever  so maturing and modernizing in the battle fields of modern sports, and finally to live and breath with a code of honor which upheld All, on equal terms. No rank of any sort meant anything to her other than honorable actions, which upheld the right of each and everyone of us on equal terms, regardless of money, talent, equipment, horses, handicaps and any of the other things that we find to mark a division between us.  She made herself the division lines of battle so that we could all get along better with each other. It goes without saying that what I learned from her was perseverance and patience. He who cannot persevere  is one who is not growing as a person and merely waiting for their demise. She taught me patience with horses and players. She taught me  how to make with that which I had. She taught me to not lose my cool on the polo field, and made me feel horribly guilty if I lost my cool with  the horses. I have my chance to tell you what I had not told anyone. Two conversations that I had with Sal. The  first. One day, after my first major grass game, that she was at, well, major for me at the time. Sal said that she wanted to talk to me about something. She asked me "Ardeshir, be honest with me, when you ride,  what are you thinking? You ride as if there is something going on in your head, as if there is another aura about you or something like that and its quite apparent to everyone, what is it?" I remarked to her, "Sal, you know how when people get ready for a game, they put on there  game face and walk onto a polo field and get ready for a polo game on a  polo field with other polo players. I don't think that way. For me its  walking onto a massive arena, but the seats are "Above" and the  spectators are "The Greats" that I have studied and have a tremendous  amount of admiration and respect for, such as Cyrus the Great, Alexander, Genghis Khan, and some non-horsemen such as Martin Luther King and Eleanor Roosevelt, all different types of people that I have an  immense amount of respect for. So I ride to keep them proud of me. I  hope they see me as a man that is seasoned, and as a horseman worthy of respect and honor that is truly embodied in the word chivalry. If I  don't behave properly or ride properly, I feel that they will look negatively on me, and walk away thinking that I am still a boy. You Sal, will be up there one day. You will sit with them and judge, even though I know you judge now. But now I can argue with you. Then I won't be able to. Then I have to just show myself to you and hope you give me your approval and I honor you just as I try and honor them. One day Sal,  you will hold a seat next to those Greats." The second. Many, many, many times I would talk to her about all that she has done for polo and  horsemanship. How she has always approached it and upheld the notions and ideals of horsemanship and sportsmanship. How number one was always  the horse, and number two the player. But players amongst players were always equal and fair. That it bothered me so much that so many people  would walk by her and not respect what she had done for the sport and in particular for them, especially women. That she would have to die to be a legend. But I would always tell her that she is a legend in my eyes, while she is alive. That we as humans can be so ungrateful when someone is alive, but then celebrate them or recognize them when they die. I would tell her, that to me, she is a living legend. That was the only time I would ever see her quiet and without a remark. The only time I  would ever see her not say a word about something I said. Sal - for  the first time I can talk without you interrupting me with some  ridiculous task to do or some thought, that I have no idea where you got the nervous tick to talk about. I will use a word that you so much  hated to be used… Woman. Woman, you are so dear to all of us. Woman, thank you for all that you taught us. Woman, thank you for all the hell that you put us through. Woman thank you for doing so much that so many others lacked the courage or vision to take on. Woman, thank you for having the courage to show us what a true gift "woman" is to mankind and having the courage to thaw out so many who were still left in the ice of an archaic and bygone era. Woman, thank you for doing your part to correct the wrongs of so many, so that we don't have to live with such burdens. And woman, thank you for showing us the beauty that is truly the nature of caring. You and your family paid a huge price and laid a sacrifice on the altar of  what it truly the American Spirit and willingness to fight for that  which is right, so that others do not have to. That burden, so solemnly  yours. You left with us wonderful examples to live by, in your lessons,  your children, and your legacy. It's now our responsibility to uphold and carry forward what you have done. Regardless of what faith we have or do not have, what spiritual beliefs we have or do not have, or ideologies we follow, we are all grateful for having you as a gift and vision in our lives. I would say rest in peace Sal, but I know for you there is no rest, not even in heaven. I'm sure there are things that you have managed to find to correct even there, but one thing you will not have to worry about my dear friend, horses there will tread much lighter than here, for they carry you on their golden wings.

Ardeshir Radpour