Marin Women's Hall of Fame

Joyce H. Goldfield

By Nancy Smith Harris
In conjunction with the Writer's Center of Marin

          Joyce Goldfield remembers the day she and Duane Irving first envisioned a riding club for disabled children. “I’d been volunteering at the Morgan Horse Ranch, Point Reyes National Seashore, where Duane worked as a trainer, schooling young Morgan horses to become Ranger mounts. One day, a feisty Morgan named Dill Pickle bucked me off.” Goldfield suffered nineteen breaks in her shoulder and endured the discomfort of a body cast for two full months. “My arm was attached to my chest by a broomstick. I was unable to get in or out of a car. Worst of all, it was impossible to access my beloved woods, or the ocean.”           
           When Goldfield confided the increasing frustration born of her immobility, Irving commiserated, telling her about the busloads of children visiting the national park from Napa State Hospital. “I can show most of them around the Morgan Horse Ranch, but often there is one child left behind in a wheelchair, waiting by the empty bus, while the rest of them explore,” he said. Goldfield added, “Duane had no way of showing the inaccessible Morgan Horse Farm to a child in a wheelchair.” Together, Goldfield and Irving designed a horseback riding club for the disabled.

            On his ranch, Irving raised gentle quarter horses for cattle work. Goldfield had three able-bodied and enthusiastic teenagers at home. They decided to share their idea of taking disabled children into the woods on horseback with a physical therapist and parents at Marindale School for Handicapped Children. Goldfield’s husband, Elton, Director of Emergency Services at Ralph K. Davies Medical Center, joined Goldfield and Irving, explaining the therapeutic benefits of horseback riding and convincing the school and parents to allow their children to come to the ranch and enjoy this unique therapy.

            On July 9, 1977, the first session of the Halleck Creek Riding Club began with twelve riders and six horses. Within seventeen years, the club grew to a membership of more than 500 riders, a core group of 100 volunteers, and three dozen gentle horses.

            Goldfield’s venture with Irving was a return to her childhood love. Raised on Martha’s Vineyard, she spent much of her time on her grandparents’ dairy farm, where cows were still milked by hand. Her love of horses began with rides on the plow horses.  “There were no expectations of me as a child,” says Goldfield, “except to be happy.”

            She thought of becoming a veterinarian but there was no money for such an expensive education. Goldfield became a medical secretary--an office nurse who could perform simple medical procedures in a busy doctor’s office. Upon graduating, Goldfield learned there was a need for nurses in Florida, so she left her Island home and ventured to the south. Soon, she was working in the clinics of the University of Florida Medical School. There, she met her future husband, Dr. Elton Goldfield. The couple moved to California where Elton completed his Internal Medicine residency at the V. A. Hospital in Martinez. They had two children, Cindy and John, and later adopted a third child, Danny.

            While living in Walnut Creek with her husband and young family, Joyce was violently attacked by a parolee from the Atascadero State Prison. That attack led to her first episode of multiple sclerosis, a neurological condition often brought on by a severe emotional and physical trauma. Goldfield suffered balance and vision problems, forcing her to give up her skating career. “I was a seven-day-a-week figure skater, pair skater, and ice dancer, as well as a figure skating judge. As a result of the MS, I was unable to hold an edge on my right skate.”

            Walnut Creek had “lost its charm.” The family relocated to Marin, to the community of Inverness, a spot they’d discovered while sailing their Folkboat. After suffering the ordeal of the attack, the onset of MS, and the loss of her skating career, Goldfield took on new challenges, including cleaning oiled water fowl and volunteering to put mileage on young Morgan horses.

            “My parents have always inspired me,” says Goldfield, whose father was forced to give up his career as a swordfish harpooner on Martha’s Vineyard when he contracted tuberculosis. After returning from the sanitarium, he taught himself double-entry bookkeeping and became Edgartown’s town clerk and town accountant. Suffering a relapse of the disease, Goldfield’s father returned to the sanitorium, recovered and returned home, taking up his former responsibilities working for the town, and opening a small store.

            “My dad was a community activist,” says Goldfield proudly. “Besides working two jobs and dealing with his illnesses, he helped establish nursing homes on the island, volunteered for the Trust For Public Lands, and worked with troubled children on the island. He was everyone’s friend.” Goldfield reminisces that when her father died, the townspeople closed the local businesses and the Island police lined the streets of Edgartown leading to the church. “He taught us that what’s important is who you are and what you do, not what you have,” she says, “he was well-loved.” Goldfield took a photograph of her father along to the celebration of her induction into the Marin Women’s Hall of Fame.

            Goldfield’s mother kept the family together and happy during her father’s stays in the sanitorium. “She even taught herself bookkeeping and took over one of Dad’s jobs when he was unable to work.”

            “From my mother, I got my courage,” she says, relating a story about the time, shortly after the attack on her life, when Goldfield was expected to testify against her attacker. “I didn’t want to relive the incident,” says Goldfield, but my mother took me aside and told me I needed to do it. “

“I remember exactly what she said: ‘There’s a Russian astronaut in space today, a woman. If she can do that, you can do this. You have to testify so this man won’t hurt someone else’.” Goldfield remembers her mother, a woman only 4’2” tall, sitting in the courtroom.  “She kept her eyes locked on mine throughout the testimony, and I knew that I could get through the ordeal if I just kept my eyes on hers.” Her mother’s gift of courage, says Goldfield, made her realize how important it was to help people conquer their fears. It inspired her to get to know the riders at Halleck Creek, and to help them meet their challenges.

            As the club grew, Goldfield learned more and more about therapeutic horseback riding. Today the club caters to individuals of all ages with all types of disabilities--from minor learning difficulties to major debilitating physical conditions. “We learned that it’s very therapeutic,” explained Goldfield. “The triple movement of a horse’s body, the barrel (belly) rolling side to side, the up and down movement of the rider in the saddle, and the forward movement of the horse, teaches muscles balance and coordination, stimulating muscles in a way that’s impossible in a stationary wheelchair. Horseback riding has both a profound physical and mental effect on the riders.”

            Goldfield added that riding develops intercostal muscles, which helps children confined to wheelchairs sit up straight, often preventing major respiratory problems caused by slumping forward. For autistic children, the riding takes away their need for self-stimulating movement--what therapists and doctors call “self-stimming.” The self-stimming movement is replaced by the motion of the horse, so the child begins to tune into his environment and the beauty around him. “We’ve had two riders come completely out of autism at the club,” Goldfield says. For mentally challenged children, the Halleck Creek Riding Club has been a tremendous resource. At the club, they learn to ride and help out with related tasks as capably as any volunteer! For deaf and blind riders, the club provides a safe, supportive environment in which to learn a sport.

            Perhaps the most compelling evidence of the club’s influence on the lives of its members are their stories. One girl with cerebral palsy, Claudia Johnson, was so inspired by the example of Goldfield that she typed, with great difficulty, Goldfield’s nomination for KRON’s “Those Who Care” Award. When Goldfield won, Claudia accompanied the family to the awards ceremony. Another rider, Karen, was born with no legs and walks on her hands. Goldfield enlisted a local saddlemaker to design a special saddle for her.

            “He made a mold of Duane’s hands while Karen was sitting in them. Then, he built a special tree and covered it with tooled leather. On the side of the saddle, he placed hand-over-hand grips so she could get on and off by herself. He even included a little pocket on the side for her sandals, which she wore on her hands when she wasn’t riding.”

            After having been told she was excused from participating in a classroom science project, Goldfield recalls Karen responded, “no way!”  Then, she rode her horse, “Fireslayer,” collecting all the insect specimens needed to complete her project. “She received an A on the project,” says Goldfield with a smile, “and now she is a very active advocate for the disabled in Washington, D.C., where’s she’s made quite a name for herself.”

            Another child who comes to the riding club at least once a week said to  Goldfield, “when I come to Halleck Creek, I’m not disabled. I’m just a pretty girl riding a horse and that means a lot to me.” And yet another, Barbie, one of the first riders at the club, now works and lives independently. “It definitely was a self-esteem builder,” says Barbie, “it was freedom.”

            The club operates every Saturday, year-round, and currently runs three 90-minute sessions a day. The riders are assisted in mounting the horses from the top of a wheelchair ramp or from a wooden stoop. Volunteers lead them into the arena to warm up, enjoy an exercise class, and participate in a riding lesson designed to accommodate each individual’s disabilities. Then, the group embarks on a trail ride, exploring the wilderness of the ranch.

            The volunteers are careful to warn blind riders of any overhanging tree limb. They are alert to possible dangers, including poison oak. Many volunteers learn to sign for the benefit of deaf riders.

            “About a year before we started the riding club, my friends, the Luftigs, taught sign language to interested residents of Point Reyes,” recalls Goldfield, “I attended their classes and they encouraged me to teach the volunteers at Halleck Creek to sign. Deaf teenagers should know what hearing teenagers are talking about. They need to be included in betting on the ball games. They should not be left out of conversations. So everyone signs and everyone knows all the dirty words and latest jokes.”

            When asked how she felt on the first day of the riding club, Goldfield said, “I was terrified. But my three wonderful teen-agers had talked their friends into helping that first day, and it worked out beautifully.” Now, the club has volunteers from all over Marin and some traveling from Sonoma County. Churches and synagogues send volunteers to the club as part of their community service requirements.  “Some volunteers come to do their school community service hours, others come as part of alternative sentencing programs for traffic violations, and many continue helping for years and years,” says Goldfield, “they just fall in love with the children, the ranch, and the program.”

            A case in point is Goldfield’s successor at Halleck Creek, who began working at the club as a volunteer when she was a young student.  After going away to college, teaching school, marrying, and having a child, she’s returned to run the club.

            The Halleck Creek Riding Club now serves people from seven bay area counties, including Contra Costa, Alameda, Napa, San Mateo, San Francisco, Sonoma, and Marin. The club is unique among therapeutic riding clubs. While most clubs can only provide riding in an arena, the large wilderness acreage of Halleck Creek gives volunteers the opportunity to leave the arena, taking their riders on to the trails. Goldfield and Irving have also led their riders on overnight horse camping trips, river rafting, sailing, canoeing, and tobogganing expeditions to challenge them.

            Many riders attend the weekly riding sessions with their families. Others arrive with the bay area organizations that sponsor large groups. The American Autism Society and the United Cerebral Palsy Foundation arrange field trips to the ranch for their clients. Organizations that provided services to the blind send participants to Halleck Creek, and dozens of group homes, including those for at-risk children, participate in the riding club regularly. “Sometimes we do a round robin until everyone has had a chance to ride,” adds Goldfield.

            Because Goldfield made a vow that no one would ever have to pay to ride a horse at Halleck Creek, she has worked hard as a publicist and fundraiser for the organization since its inception. “I’m afraid I have no pride where Halleck Creek is concerned,” she says, “I’ll hustle anybody, if that’s what it takes.” She points out that it is immensely satisfying to give to Halleck Creek because all donations go directly to benefit the riders; other than feeding the horses, there’s very little overhead expense associated with the club.

            Goldfield is modest about the part she’s played in keeping the club going. “If people just come out to the club once and watch the riders, and see the joy in their faces, they generally are inclined to help out, so normally we don’t have a difficult time raising money.”  The club has received financial grants from many organizations.  Yet, even with the community’s generous support, the Halleck Creek Riding Club has had its share of challenges. Goldfield explains that if it were not for the 4-H support and insurance, they would have to carry expensive private insurance to keep the club in operation.

             In 1979, when Duane Irving’s partner in the ranch (the original home of the riding club) found a buyer for the property, Goldfield quickly wrote more grant proposals with the hope that someone would buy the partner’s share of the land. To everyone’s relief, the Marin Community Foundation came to the rescue with funds to purchase a 60-acre parcel of the Halleck Creek Ranch in Nicasio, adjacent to Skywalker Ranch.

            “George Lucas allows us to graze the horses on the hills that border the club’s land. This significantly reduces our costs for feeding the horses,” says Julie Cassel, the coordinator who stepped in when Goldfield retired after running the club for twenty years. It now costs about $90,000 a year to run the ranch and there are only two paid positions: coordinator and caretaker. The club has approximately 35 horses, a mix of thoroughbreds and mixed breeds, including Arabians, Hanoverians, Tennessee walkers, Appaloosas, quarter horses, draft horses, and ponies. Many of the horses are donated, and for most, their work at Halleck Creek is a second career. When the horses retire from active duty at the club, they spend their retirement years grazing in the adjacent hills.

            As for Joyce Goldfield, she continues to make herself available to the riding club and is working on a book about these courageous youngsters and the experience of starting at the grassroots level with Duane Irving and working with him to make Halleck Creek what it is today: a place for the disabled to experience a sense of freedom and accomplishment once reserved for the able-bodied.

            Goldfield also continues to row her canoe (a boat she made by hand with the help of a close friend on Tomales Bay). She runs a bed and breakfast from her home and takes care of a menagerie that includes an orphaned goat, a horse, two donkeys, a potbellied pig, chickens, and a dog. “I also do tai chi and yoga,” she offers, “which helps my balance.” Goldfield laughs, adding, “I jokingly say I run--my running is like your fast walking. Where I live, on the edge of Point Reyes National Seashore, I can go out there, do my running, and, usually, nobody’s watching.”

            She grows momentarily reflective, saying, “I’m really happy. I have three of the greatest children who’ve ever walked the face of the globe. I live in a beautiful spot. I never, ever read the newspaper or watch television, because I need to stay away from all the bad things in the world that I can’t do anything about. All of this helps me avoid stress and stay out of trouble with the MS.”

            When asked what advice she would give young women thinking about working with the disabled, Goldfield responds without hesitation.

             “Well, first you’ve got to connect with people in the disabled community. And, to my depths, I believe the biggest barrier to making those connections is attitudinal. We can put curb cuts at all the sidewalk corners, and handlebars around all the public toilets in the world, but if you don’t treat the disabled just as you would your able-bodied friends, play with them, love them, and make them your friends, you’ve gotten nowhere.

            “It starts at home, with the way people raise their families. Hopefully, they will teach their children to recognize that regardless of race, creed, color, or disability, we’re all just people!

            “If you’re a youngster in a wheelchair who’s waited for people to take you places, had to ask for everything you need, and never been able to decide where you’re going, suddenly finding yourself on horseback--leaving your crutches or wheelchair behind--is real freedom and independence! You decide where you’re going; you’re responsible for your horse, making sure he doesn’t step in a hole. If you want to trot a little, you trot and feel the wind blowing through your hair. That sense of freedom has always been important to me and I needed to give it to kids in wheelchairs.”