Five Days in May

Jack Robertson Celebration of Life, May 27, 2026 (Robertson Family)

By Track Historian Bob Gates

Some of you might recognize our title as a 1993 song by Blue Rodeo. Songwriter Jim Cuddy used the lyrics to describe the “familiar, timeless feeling of a deep connection with a soulmate.”

The title seemed on point because of an underlying relationship, not between soulmates, but within our horse racing family. This past May, we came together to celebrate the lives of Jack Robertson, Ingrid Lee, and Rick Ball. I can’t recall three such events taking place within five days of each other. This year, we lost Jack on February 4, Ingrid on April 28, and Rick in November 2025. It just happened to work out that their Celebrations of Life took place around the same time.

As much as they are described as celebrations, they can be emotionally draining. For me, that’s due in part to the fact that it feels like I am in the winter of my life, and these events cause me to reflect on our own immortality.

While I always thought I knew these individuals, their services proved me wrong. All three were far more than most of us really knew, and they represent a wonderful cross-section of our horse racing world.

Jack Robertson’s May 27 service began our “Five Days in May.” Jack was a highly respected owner/trainer at Assiniboia Downs for more than 40 years and won more than 600 races. Jack has the distinction of being on the top 10 all-time leading trainer list, yet he never won a single-season training title. But he was also a cattleman and a respected “bird” man. Some of Jack’s top horses include Pete’s Surprise, Bobby Q, Nan O Si, Portage, Feudal, and Uene. How many of these do you recall?

Jack has been described as one of the “best caretakers of horses in the history of the Downs.” It takes talent to condition a thoroughbred, but it takes a special person to develop a champion. In the case of his Bobby Q, Jack took a young colt, “built” him from the ground up, and cared for him for his entire racing career.

On May 30, at a private Celebration of Life, we said good-bye to Ingrid Lee. Those who knew Ingrid best said that she would be lovingly remembered for her “tenacity, resilience, kindness, compassion and willingness to always lend a hand.”

Ingrid owned horses, worked with the Horsemen’s Benevolent and Protective Association, the Winners Foundation, and volunteered with the Manitoba Riding for the Disabled. One of her special horses was Prairie Premier.

Although I didn’t know Ingrid well, I wasn’t surprised at her background. Ingrid was a dedicated and compassionate inner-city school teacher. We had a few conversations about many of the goings-on at the Downs. She wasn’t one to shy away from her opinions, even if they went against the grain, and if that meant ruffling a few feathers, so be it.

The one-word descriptor that kept on coming up was her resilience. Ingrid suffered the most devastating of life events. She lost her husband, Robert, in 1984 and their son, Howard, in 1988. The pain of her passing could be seen in the faces of two of her closest and dearest friends, Pat Wallace and Lorna Gray.

The day following Ingrid’s Celebration of Life, we honoured the memory of Rick Ball. Rick was so much more than his life around horses and the racetrack. Yes, he was a horseman and the Downs Track Superintendent, but he was also an “elite” salesman, hockey player, and karaoke specialist.

Rick was the son of trainer Glen Ball, or “GB” as he was known to his friends, and back in the 1970s, Glen was quite simply “The Man.” So, Rick was born into the racing world. His favourite horse was Taboga, and now the pair are reunited in that great backstretch in the hereafter.

I’m no one to speak of his work as the Downs “Super,” but I can tell you that the effort he put into his work on the racing surface could not be called into question. Rick Ball cared, and you always got the best he had!

I wasn’t sure how best to conclude our story of those “Five Days in May” until I read the following passage written by Ingrid Lee. So, the final words belong to Ingrid, with loving thoughts of Jack, Rick, and our authoress herself.

Each person dying
Leaves a hole,
A void in our lives
That we must get around
However best we can. 

These voids cannot be filled,
And cannot be left behind.
Thus, we continue to move
Down this road some call life. 

Always negotiating the voids,
Fearful that we might succumb.
And knowing eventually
We will be one ourselves.
Only the size will vary. 

Tread carefully now, no matter.
Someone will miss us.
Feel an emptiness perhaps,
But maybe not. 

Yet still it helps to think we all count.
We all do. More or less.

Thanks, Ingrid, very well said!