The Time Capsule: Alix, a local motion picture opportunity

 How about a major motion picture made locally? I have nothing whatsoever to offer in that regard, but Jasper Green at Author House and a lady named Melissa with a similar agency both seem to see Alix as a golden opportunity.  

Both called last week and each had essentially the same message. Melissa explained how she could facilitate book sales, which could lead to publication as an e-book, translations into foreign languages, even a movie.  She had in mind Alix, a story she feels has the potential of Secretariat; the book and the movie.  

I took issue with the comparison; Secretariat was coddled from birth, ran a handful of times, then retired to a luxurious stud farm. Alix was grit over the long haul and her story offers the additional elements of evil and a wretched, tear-inducing ending.   

Yes, Melissa agreed, and for only $2,460, in three easy installments, we could get started.  

I asked if she actually knew anything about Alix. Like Jasper, she said she’d read enough of the book to believe in the potential. I have a feeling this was no more than the title, but respect her professional judgement and offered an even better deal.  Instead of $2,460 I’d give her a one-year limited rights agreement with 10 percent of any profits resulting from sales or contracts negotiated during that period.  The movie alone would generate millions and could make her wealthy.  

Our conversation fizzled, as this isn’t the way her company does business. Jasper said about the same, leaving a call-back number if I reconsidered. 

Alix is deserving, without doubt, but I suspect Melissa and Jasper’s interest in Montgomery County’s most famous resident of the 1890s is not as it was represented. The little mare was always being used by someone out to make a buck.   

Alix could never do enough, never run enough races, never rake in enough winnings, never set a record she wasn’t asked to break.  She was subjected to the excruciating pain of “pin-firing,” pushed until she was finally broken beyond repair, and still it wasn’t enough.  Squeezing out the last bit of profit killed her, which would make a memorable ending for the movie. I’ve often felt the town was quick to forget because of shame in what happened.  

Actually, I haven’t done her much good.  The book was hurried—a last-ditch, last-minute effort to get her into the Iowa horse racing hall of fame—and didn’t do her justice. I don’t know where Melissa got a copy, as I only had 100 printed, few sold, and the last of them ruined when the basement flooded.   

Another failure resulted when, several months ago, I set out to have a statue of Alix erected. A committee of good and willing people offered to help, we had a drawing of the proposed edifice made, obtained estimates, worked on a potential location, did an article in this paper. I then made a few calls and looked into a couple of grant possibilities. While there was enthusiasm for the concept, I didn’t find anyone anxious to take out their checkbook.  

I should have kept at it, I suppose, had a bake sale, a raffle, challenged people to match the amount I put up, but didn’t.  

Melissa, on the other hand, is more persistent. I’d wager she dialed another number and kept at it until someone agreed to her $2,460 contract. Had she handled the statue project it would probably be finished.  

We still have the material and, if there’s an interest, could give it another try. Or we could wait for the movie.  

Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.