Wounded warriors Disabled veteran shares rough history with his horse
Toolbox
By JOSH O'GORMAN Staff Writer - Published: December 28, 2008
LUDLOW — Since July, visitors to Ludlow have been treated to an unusual sight — a Native American man riding his horse through town.
With straight, black shoulder-length hair, dark complexion, leather vest and a necklace made from bones, Mark Andrade is likely to make a motorist do a double-take. For Andrade, his horse is more than just transportation. She has helped save his life.
Andrade, 43, is a disabled Army veteran. Between 1983 and 1989, he served in the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault.), and while serving lost some body parts in a foreign country. He said a 25-year code of silence prevents him from being more specific about the injury, but today Andrade walks with a pronounced limp in his left leg.
Andrade, who is part Sioux, grew up in Rhode Island and spent a lot of time on his family's horse ranch in Bristol, R.I. After he was discharged, he lived in Nashville, Tenn., until one day he threw a dart at a map of the United States that struck Block Island, R.I.
A small island featuring restaurants, bars and nightclubs for the tourists, Block Island was the perfect place for a young man fresh out of the military to make a home, and it was there he met someone he called "the most beautiful woman I had ever seen," his future wife Betsy McGee.
In 1993, the two moved to Vermont because Andrade had lined up work as a contractor. Upon his discharge from the Army, Andrade immediately received 30 percent disability, and despite living with chronic pain, he continued to work until around 2003.
"One day I got up and my legs wouldn't work. I was in such chronic pain my legs just shut down," he recalled. "It was like walking on glass."
In addition to his physical injuries, Andrade also suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, and after being declared 100 percent disabled around 2003, Andrade said he was stuck at home, dealing with his physical and emotional pain.
"I've never been a sit-around-the-house kind of guy," he said. "It's a good thing I have no guns in the house because there were plenty of times I thought about eating a bullet."
With the cold weather aggravating his pain, Andrade began spending time with his sister in Florida and receiving treatment from the VA Hospital in Gainesville, Fla.
"That is the best VA in the country. They actually care about you there. They really do," he said. He has undergone six surgeries, received five prosthetics and has had the nerves frozen around his legs 12 times. The nerve freezes provide him temporary relief from the pain, and this spring he will return to Gainesville for three more treatments, he said.
In 2005, during one of his trips to Florida, he saw an advertisement posted on the bulletin board outside the local feed store for a horse for sale. That ad led him to a rancher who was selling a female palomino horse for $3,500.
Like Andrade, the horse has had a hard life.
"A work horse never gets love. You use them and you put them away but you don't want to become attached to them when they die or get hurt," Andrade said. "She didn't know what a treat was. She didn't know love."
When Andrade took the horse to a veterinarian, he learned she was blind in her left eye. It turned out the rancher had blinded the horse after beating her about her face with a lariat, a stiff length of rope used to lasso cattle. With both of them suffering from their physical and emotional trauma, Andrade was determined to bond with his horse and gain her trust.
While confined to a wheelchair, Andrade spent a week in the horse's stall, waiting for her to fall asleep.
"I knew eventually she would lay down, but she didn't like it. She grunted, she snorted, but finally she realized, 'Hey, this guy can't hurt me,'" Andrade said. "By the fourth day, she laid down and I got on top of her. I fell asleep and when I woke up she was awake but she wouldn't move because she didn't want to hurt me."
Andrade spent the following months bonding with his horse, giving her the name Jersey Girl after she reacted one day to Bruce Springsteen's cover of the Tom Waits song.
"Her name as originally Josie, but I didn't want to call her that because I didn't want to her to associate it with getting hit," he said.
The two completed a program outside Ocala, Fla., that trains horses to assist disabled riders. Andrade sometimes has seizures, and if he falls off Jersey Girl while riding, she will stand over him to protect him and will drag him out of the road if necessary.
In July, Andrade had Jersey Girl transported from Florida to Ludlow, and he boards her at Full Moon Farm on Gulli Road. A path connects the farm to Andrade's house nearby, and as long as it's not too icy, Andrade is likely to take a ride into town to Christopher's Bar and Grill, one of two businesses in town that allows Andrade to tie up Jersey Girl outside (the other being the Loft).
Andrade and Jersey Girl, each better together than either ever were apart, are helping others. Andrade regularly takes disabled children for rides, including an autistic boy and a girl with cerebral palsy.
"These kids, they're amazed but they're also afraid. If you can get them on a horse, you can get the fear out of them and get them to open up," he said. "I can't describe it, the magic in a kid's eyes. It's a good feeling for me, but it's a better feeling for Jersey."
Andrade and Jersey Girl complement each other, each giving the other something they were missing.
"It's such a change. It's a change in my life and it's a change in the horse's life," he said. "I got my heart back and so did Jersey."
Contact Josh O'Gorman at josh.ogorman@rutlandherald.com.
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