Category: Phillies/MLB

Last weekend, K.C. Peterson was sitting at a bar with his friends in western Nebraska, talking about Fourth of July celebrations, when he shared an unexpected tale.

It all started with a marketing gimmick, one so unique only Phillies executive Bill Giles could’ve conceived it. The year was 1976, and Philadelphia was buzzing with excitement around the Bicentennial.

Giles, who described himself as a “pseudo historian” according to newspaper accounts, had been reading up on Paul Revere. Everyone was familiar with the blacksmith’s midnight ride, but the executive was far more interested in a lesser-known journey.

In 1774, Revere traveled by horseback from Boston to Philadelphia to deliver the Suffolk Resolves — a document that would serve as a harbinger of the revolution to come — to the First Continental Congress.

Citizens in Suffolk County, Mass., would refuse to pay British taxes. They’d organize militias to defend themselves. They’d boycott British goods.

Giles began to brainstorm. What if the Phillies could recreate such a ride for opening day? With a Paul Revere re-enactor, dressed in colonial garb? Carrying a game ball in a lantern, instead of a blueprint for civil resistance?

The plan was set into motion. In March of 1976, Giles hired K.C. and his brother, Russ, to trek 318 miles over two weeks from Old North Church to Veterans Stadium on horseback.

They arrived on April 10, a few hours before first pitch. Russ handed the ball to a man with a jet pack — “Rocket Man” — who soared 150 feet into the air, landing on the mound to deliver it to former Phillies pitcher and newly elected Hall of Famer Robin Roberts.

Peterson’s friends were skeptical. He and his brother had lived a wild life, as rodeo trick riders in Nebraska, but even by their standards, this seemed outlandish.

But the tale was all true — from the wigs to the tricornered hats to the tall black boots.

“They said, ‘Oh, bulls—,’” K.C. recalled. “I said, ‘I’m not bulls— you, we did!’

“One rode in the morning, one rode in the afternoon. And it rained almost every day. For two weeks.”

$5,000 for 318 miles

K.C. and Russ Peterson knew close to nothing about Revere when they accepted Giles’ job. They had never been to a baseball game either, and didn’t consider themselves fans of any team.

But they were expert horsemen, and that was enough. The eight Peterson siblings grew up on a ranch in Ogallala, nicknamed the “Cowboy Capital” of Nebraska. Their brother, Denny, taught them trick riding at an early age; before long, they could do shoulder stands and vaults on the back of a galloping steed.

It was a unique skillset that led to some interesting experiences. During the summer, K.C. and Russ would perform halftime shows at Ogallala’s local rodeo. In 1973, the family traveled to Japan on tour with celebrity cowboy Casey Tibbs.

What Giles proposed in 1976 was an entirely different commitment. For the past few years, the brothers had been working four shows a day, seven days a week, over the summer at Great Adventure Theme Park in Jackson Township, N.J.

Now, their boss was saying that the Phillies wanted them to embark on a 318-mile trek.

“I was like, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’” K.C. recalled. “And they said, ‘Well, it’s gonna take two of you, because it’s a long ways, and you’ve got to do it at a trot in an English saddle.’

“And hell, I’ve never rode an English saddle in my life. We’re just trick riders. Grew up on a ranch. Rode Western saddle, and trick riding saddle, but never an English saddle. It’s an itty bitty saddle. There ain’t much to sit on.”

Then he heard what the Phillies were offering.

“I was 17 years old, and Russ was 21, and we got paid $2,500 apiece,” he said. “For a broke kid, it’s a hell of a lot of money.”

The brothers accepted the team’s offer on the spot. Russ’ girlfriend at the time, ReNee Dancer, was not happy. She and Peterson had planned to get married before they left Nebraska for New Jersey in May.

That idea was no longer feasible. The Phillies needed K.C. and Russ to be in Boston by late March to start their trip. They’d have to postpone the wedding until after it was done.

“He was so excited that they asked him to do that,” ReNee said. “And all I was worried about was getting married.”

K.C. and Russ departed from the Old North Church on March 27 at 9 a.m. The Phillies gave them a route with different stops along the East Coast. Unlike Revere’s, this journey was not entirely on dirt, grass and cobblestone.

The younger Peterson said there were times when one brother would be riding on the side of a small highway, with a motor home behind him — flashers on — and a horse trailer hitched to the back.

Local drivers were not enthused; honking loudly, while telling the colonial horsemen to “get the hell out of the road.”

The weather, which K.C. described as a “downpour,” only made things worse. Their wigs were soaked and their tricornered hats were slipping. A dry, wool coat would’ve been helpful amid the 40 to 50 degree temperatures, but drenched, it was essentially useless.

On their hardest days, K.C. and Russ contemplated tossing their lanterns and costumes aside. The routine was quickly getting old. But in the spirit of Revere, they continued on.

“Here we were, 200 years later, doing [his ride] on a paved road,” K.C. said.

The brothers would often depart by 7 a.m. to reach the day’s destination by early afternoon. There, they would take part in a ceremony welcoming them to town, usually held by a local chamber of commerce.

“Kids would start coming out of school, yelling, ‘George Washington!’” K.C. recalled. “With our little hat on, with our little wig on, with the curls in it. But it wasn’t no raincoats, I’ll tell you that. We had to stay in costume.”

They’d have a quick meal, put the horses in a barn, spend the night in a motel, and do it all over again the next morning. Together, the brothers averaged about 20-30 miles a day, visiting 14 cities along their route.

By April 9, everyone had had enough. The “up-down” motion of riding 318 miles on a trot was uncomfortable; K.C. compared it to “calisthenics.”

Horseshoes were falling off hooves, clothes were dirty, the motor home was damaged (because its driver, another Great Adventure employee, accidentally crashed it) and the brothers were physically exhausted.

But they were only one stop away from Philadelphia. Their concrete promised land was near.

A baseball delivered, a promise kept

Unsurprisingly, Giles planned a 45-minute pregame affair around America’s founding.

The Mummers put on a Revolutionary War-themed show. Plymouth Whitemarsh High School’s marching band performed a song, and the Philadelphia Boys Choir sang the national anthem.

Then came Revere. Just before first pitch, Russ brought his horse up to the right field corner. A stadium worker opened the gate, as the re-enactor trotted onto the AstroTurf, doing a lap — with some trick riding — around the entire field.

He handed the ball to “Rocket Man,” who took off for the mound, where Roberts was waiting. The Phillies offered the brothers tickets to that day’s game against the Pirates, but after the ceremony was done, they packed their horses, changed out of their costumes, and left.

Russ arrived to his trailer in Jackson Township not long after, with bags of memorabilia in hand. He was a quiet man by nature, but on this night, he couldn’t stop talking.

“You could hear the excitement in his voice, about that rocket man flying through there,” ReNee said. “That was probably the thing that he enjoyed the most. He thought it was pretty amazing.”

Peterson continued to live an eventful life. He and ReNee moved back to Nebraska later that year and started a construction business in 1993. They raised cattle of their own, and shoed horses, and did some projects for Habitat for Humanity.

But the trick rider always took pride in his two-week, 318-mile trip. So much so, that when Russ died in a work-related accident in 2015, it got a mention in his obituary.

His family noted how honored he was to be a part of the Bicentennial, in the very city where the Declaration of Independence was signed. Yet nothing compared to the events of the following day.

“Perhaps the most important of his activities while in the area,” the notice read, “involved marrying the love of his life, ReNee A. Dancer, in Howell Township, New Jersey, on April 11th.”