Letter to the Editor: Bob Fierro on Cot Campbell

[Wandering Eyes]

In 1972, I owned a fledgling public relations firm in New York City which had most of its clients in Atlanta, mainly because my silent partner lived and worked there and recommended our services. One day he called and told me that there was a man I needed to see because he needed our public relations expertise. He told me he was the president of an advertising firm in Atlanta–Burton, Campbell and Kelly–and they were located at the top of the Peachtree Center tower and that his name was Cot Campbell. My partner, who shared my horse racing enthusiasm, told me that this man was going to change Thoroughbred racing, but needed our help. I wondered whether a man who was in charge of (I found out later) the largest advertising agency in Atlanta needed anyone’s help, but I called, made an appointment and sat down with him.

I asked him why he thought we were meeting, and he told me that he understood I was interested in horse racing and he’d just been fooling around with some partners and some horses and I dropped my jaw and was taken in. After he drawled on for about 10 minutes, I stood up, offered him my hand, and said, “Mr. Campbell, you don’t need my help, or anyone else’s, at all.” He invited me to dinner and we became fast friends.

After abandoning public relations in the mid-1970s, I became a freelance writer specializing in travel, business and horse racing, and during that time, I interviewed Cot many times and included his ideas in many articles, and also in personal profiles. He introduced me to his wonderful wife Anne, who became a dear friend of mine and my wife as well, and we were privileged to be invited to the original Dogwood Farm in Greeneville, Georgia, for an overnight stay. How cool.

Our friendship remained strong and fast and whenever we crossed paths at sales or the races, I would bow to him and greet him, “Mr. Campbell,” to which he would always reply in a booming voice and with a tongue in his cheek no doubt, “Ah, The Great Fierro.” I would hasten to the nearest hiding place, of course. After becoming a member of the National Turf Writers, I would always write his name into the ballot as a person who deserved an Eclipse of Merit because, don’t you know, W. Cothran Campbell changed the game. That he is a 2018 member of the Hall of Fame helps, but to me, Cot Campbell was the man thousands and thousands of race horse owners should bow to in a moment of thanks for his prescience, and determination, and tenacity, to let the little man and woman into the fun of it.

And he was the fun of it. (They should rename a Grade I race at every racetrack for him).

This has been a terrible year for yours truly in terms of the passing of four of the most influential people on my career. First Paul Schosberg, who set the stage and the tone of New York’s breeders to set their own agenda; then Bill Graves, who knew who you were as soon as he looked at you (and you were fortunate if he winked); and then Rick Violette, who changed New York racing forever. And now, Cot Campbell, my friend, you changed the game and thrilled our hearts, and wore that cocky hat just right. Mrs. Campbell always made sure of that. May you rest in peace.

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