In 1975, Charles Juravinski built a racetrack in a farmer’s field. Flamboro Downs soon grew to be a multi-million dollar enterprise, and today his love of horse racing thunders on. Meet the reknown philanthropist himself on his estate in Dundas, Ontario.

Story by Keith McCalmont / Photography by Matt Waples

A shirtless Charles Juravinski, 82 years young, swings open the door of his gorgeous Dundas, Ontario home clad in pyjama bottoms, a robe, and a gold medallion. “I forgot you were coming,” he says.

Juravinski, who built Flamboro Downs from the ground up and owned a number of top horses in his time in harness racing, was only just inducted into the Hall of Fame and can certainly be forgiven for thinking that perhaps the harness racing world had forgotten about him.

He welcomes me and photographer Matt Waples, into the bright and airy abode that he shares with his wife, Margaret, and ushers us into his office.

Instead of finding a shirt, Juravinksi finds himself a cigarette and launches into a story. “Here’s one you’ll like,” he gestures at Waples.

His favourite filly, Ellamony, is a Hall of Famer. She was twice named a divisional champion by the USTA, has collected three O’Brien Awards, was named Canada’s harness Horse of the Year in 1995 and also copped a Breeders Crown.

She wasn’t used to losing and neither was Juravinksi.

“I remember the night your dad (Ron Waples) got Ellamony beat at the Meadowlands,” starts the outgoing octogenarian.

“Let’s face it,” he says, while staring down the intrepid photographer. “She was the best and somebody asked me about it after the race at the Meadowlands and all I could think to say was, ‘If he was the pilot of a 747 jet we’d all be dead.’”

Our Matt flashes a knowing smile that says he’s heard this story before.

Juravinski, flaunting his tanned chest and waving his cigarette smiles with his whole face — his eyes, pools of ice blue, freeze us in our spots as he unravels the end of the tale.

“Subsequently he drove the mare again,” he recalls. “I said to him, what the f#@$ did you do? You got the best horse, why are you screwing around?”

Well, Waples went out and won that next race and when the veteran driver returned the horse to her caretaker following the win he insisted the caretaker deliver a statement to the owner.

“We won,” grits Juravinski. “And that’s when the call came in. ‘Waples said to tell you the plane has successfully landed.’”

While he is known in the racing community as the man who built Flamboro Downs, Halton recognizes Juravinski as a saviour in the health community.

This joint passion, health and horses, defines him. He hosted many a benefit at the half-mile racetrack that he opened in a farmer’s field in 1975 and believes if the Ontario racing industry had better branded itself, it might not be in the predicament it’s in today.

He’s certainly had his fair share of facing off with horsemen over various progressive debates — and the introduction of teletheaters was one such battle.

“They (the horsemen) said if you open teletheatres we’re not going to race because no one will come to the track,” he exclaims. “I argued that no one is coming to the f*&%ing track anyhow and at least if they’re not coming here they’re going someplace. If we put it in bars and on television we have a shot, otherwise, we have to close the door.”

Juravinski maintains this was no threat.

“We’d have actually closed Flamboro Downs in December of ’93,” he says. “We started these teletheatres in the first week of 1993 and the horsemen said they wouldn’t race that night. I was in my office and waiting for horsemen to ship in and these are the fights that evolve going back with horsemen vis a vis the track.”

But the horsemen eventually filtered into the track and as post-time neared, a funny thing was happening on the tote board.

“I’ll never forget it,” he smiles. “I’m watching the board to see what is happening and there’s a glitch, there’s more money being put into the coffers, more handle being developed and I’m watching the horsemen parade back and forth and all of them are looking at the board wondering what is happening!”

There’s a certain glee to how the man tells a story. He knows the happy ending is coming, but there’s an edge — one that can only come from having lived through the battles that flickers in those blue eyes to this day.

“After the first race, I got a call from one of my tormentors and he said, ‘Well Charles, I guess we made the right decision didn’t we?’” glares Juravinski. “And I thought to myself... you &%#@sucker. They weren’t going to race and the thing (off-track wagering) kept going and has never stopped.”

And then, with a short drag of his cigarette, he travels forward in time.

“I say the industry has shot itself in the foot,” he starts.

“Your dad,” says Juravinski, gesturing at Waples once more. “He called me because we were selling the track and asked, ‘Could we roast you?’ I said, ‘Well I’ve been roasted for the last 30 years, what’s another night? Do you think anyone will come?’ I think they raised $65,000 that night.”

“We were into the throws of the slots and nobody knew what kind of money was going to be coming in,” he says. “I pleaded to the industry at that dinner that we get together and embrace healthcare in the province of Ontario in its entirety because we have racetracks throughout the province. Everyone has a hospital and if a track operator and horsemen get together — GIVE SOME BACK and embrace a charity so you can brand yourself.”

He seems almost dejected, remembering the response.

“It was met with silence,” he says. “Nobody said, ‘Hey, good idea.’ Today, I think to myself that if the industry had done that and embraced health care and gave back to the province of Ontario, how could the government look at an industry that’s really supporting health care? I wonder if they’d have the balls to do what they’re doing now by taking the slots away from some tracks.”

In 2003, he sold Flamboro Downs to Magna Entertainment Corporation for $72 million. Since that time, Juravinski has donated some $43 million to health care in the Hamilton region, including $15 million to the Cornerstone of Care Campaign (Hamilton Health Sciences); $5 million to the Juravinski Cancer Centre (Hamilton Health Sciences); $2 million to the Hamilton General Hospital Surgical Suite (Hamilton Health Sciences); $1 million to the Surgical Fellowship Fund (Hamilton Health Sciences); $7 million to the St. Joseph’s Healthcare Hamilton; $5 million to St. Peter’s; $5 million to St. Joseph’s Villa; $2 million to Wellwood Centre; and $1 million to the McMaster University Research Centre.

Juravinski professes that the joy of racing ended for him when Ellamony had to be put down due to complications and infection following a surgery on her ankle.

His home, however, is filled with pictures, trophies and other nostalgia of the era. His racing past is one he celebrates rather than buries. “One of my favourite memories of Ellamony is when she took on the boys at Woodbine,” he recalls of the mare’s famous Canadian Pacing Derby try. “She took on the best aged pacers in the world and got nipped at the wire by Ball And Chain.”

The elimination race established the first sub-1:50 mark (1:49.4) in Canada. A week later, Ellamony closed from out of the clouds to be third to Pacific Rocket and Ball And Chain.

“That to me was one of the most memorable races I ever saw,” he gleams.

But the operator who also owned, in part, such greats as Goalie Jeff and Conquered recalls another famous evening as his standout moment in horse racing — when his own Matts Scooter won the Confederation Cup at Flamboro Downs.

He starts with the elimination. “Mike Lachance was driving him on a half-mile track and John Campbell was on the outside of him, had him locked on the rail, and wouldn’t let him out,” he recalls. “Matts Scooter was a terror. This was the Confederation Cup and Matts Scooter, as far as I was concerned, was going to run away from them and that Goddamn John Campbell, he had him locked in on the rail.”

Matts Scooter remained locked in past the three-quarter pole and past the eighth pole. “All of a sudden,” he continues, “Campbell realized that the horses on the inside were pulling away and you had to finish first, second, or third to continue. He accelerated, and the minute he accelerated, Mike Lachance jerked Matts Scooter to the right and shot past him and he came second but he was in the final.”

The final of the Confederation Cup will live in his memory forever.

“Runnymede Lobell was a helluva horse,” Juravinski admits. “Ken Warkentin was announcing and I think that’s the greatest race call I’ve ever heard.”

As Runnymede Lobell leads the field into the stretch for the first time, Matts Scooter tries to make the point and is denied.

Juravinski, channelling Warkentin, picks up the call. “And Runnymede Lobell says no way,” bellows Juravinski. “They went back and forth and back and forth, and of course Matts Scooter won the Confederation Cup.”

To know a man, you have to know not only what’s in his heart but also what’s in his mind.

Juravisnki has a plaque hanging on his wall that declares “Dr. Charles Juravinski has a big, healthy brain that is 19% greater in size than men of the same age and is aging better than Albert Einstein’s did.”’

Now, he fully admits that perhaps the good doctors at McMaster University were trying to garner a donation, but he simply has to share the story. “They decided to MRI my brain,” he laughs. “There’s a group of students behind this glass window, but you can’t see them, and they’re taking pictures of my brain. I thought to myself, what’s this going to tell you? Well, they want to see how active your brain is…”

Clearly, Juravinski’s mind is active enough. The doctor instructs Juravinski to lay still on the bed and that a buzzer will sound to start the picture taking and a second buzzer will signal the end of the process.

“I got in there and I thought... I’ll make my brain active! I thought of every erotic thing I’ve ever heard or seen in my life,” he grins. “Buzz... buzz. This went on for some time and then I was presented to all the students who were watching the video of the imaging on the screen. When I walked in the room they said, ‘You have the most active brain of anyone we’ve ever seen!’ But I didn’t tell them why.”

The mischievous millionaire tells us he will continue being generous to hospitals until his dying day. “Who made the horsemen the money?” he asks. “The public at large. They put the money in our pockets. They made us successful. If you want to give back, isn’t that the best thing you can do?

“It’s gratifying how good it makes you feel to give away. And the ‘Thank yous’ people give you! Someone will say, ‘You saved my life’. And I say, I didn’t save your life, I didn’t have anything to do with saving your life, but they feel you do and that is gratifying. It’s almost selfish to feel that good about giving away.”

“Now, if I could only practice what I preach,” he coughs, lighting up another cigarette with a sly grin.