trinanageletrinanagele Member
edited June 2012 in General Interest
A Birthday Poem for John Shirreffs
(June 1, 2012)

Out of the East
To California came
A young ex-Marine,
John Shirreffs by name,
Who more
Than enough
Of war
Had seen.
He wanted a life
Without such strife
And did search
For his own path of peace
On this earth,
Seeking something more
Like what he’d known before
In New England,
(There he with his family
Horses had raised
In his boyhood days),
But where he also could surf.
’Twas his love of surfing
That him westward led—
He’d had Hawaii in mind,
But when he stopped in NorCal to visit a friend,
He a job did find
Working with Thoroughbreds,
And so there his travels did end.
In beautiful Grass Valley
His spirits did rally
When on the famed Loma Rica Ranch
He found his chance
In a career to advance—
It was all he was looking for,
Excepting with turf and not surf.
He gained a treasured mentor
From whom he much learned
Of the horsetraining art,
And whose love and regard
He in turn earned
As he worked in the barns
And on the training track.
Here’s the story looking back
At how that relationship—
Still so dear to his heart---
Came to be.
It’s a really good yarn,
Which dear Charlotte Farmer
Found in an interview
And did to me
I hope that I justice
Can do
To how John Shirreffs did reminisce
’Bout when, just out of the service,
He by good luck became a young apprentice
Of the famous Henry Freitas.
John Shirreffs, you see,
Had aspired
A professional surfer to be,
But, perhaps a little down in the dumps
Due to a post-service slump,
He did choose
First to accept a horse training offer
There in NorCal
That cattleman Jim Mathews
Him proffered.
John was by Jim hired
To work for room and board
And five dollars a week;
For that, Jim him did ask
To take on the task
Of training an Appaloosa to jump.
Then one day it came to pass
That John was out riding
From one farm
To another,
Perhaps not sufficiently eyeing
The state of the ground,
Nor thinking, of course,
That he and his horse
Might come to some harm,
But of a sudden
He found
That into deep mud
He had ridden,
The depth being from him hidden.
’Twas land,
But quite like quicksand.
I imagine his heart did thud
As his horse ever deeper
Sank in the mud,
Up to the knee
And the hock.
John, though perhaps somewhat in shock,
Quickly took stock
And calmly did begin
To guide
His mount out of the muck
In which it was stuck.
By chance also out for a ride
Was a stranger
Who became aware
Of the mess
John was in,
And at John from a distance
With growing interest
Did stare
As John did begin
To do his best.
The stranger
John’s compassion
And the fashion
In which John did extricate
His horse from danger.
He thought it a good test
Of John’s competence,
And then he,
Who just happened to be
The renowned Henry Freitas,
Did the providential step take
John on the spot
To hire
His yearlings to break.
John later did confess
That Henry
Most likely
How John had ridden
INTO the mire
And himself caused that mishap,
Quite dire;
Or in the alternative,
John did quip,
Henry did like
His hired hands a little dim
And not too smart!
At any rate,
It was John’s fortunate fate
That Henry Freitas
Him hired
To care for
Noble Thoroughbreds,
Among them the champion Noor,
Then already retired,
For years the “Senior Senator,”
As has been said,
In Loma Rica’s stallion barn.
John the yearlings did start,
And also mucked the stalls,
As did the workers all,
But only he lived in quarters above.
To the Freitases, he became like a son,
And when each day’s work was done,
John was invited
To dinner next door,
And he delighted
To partake
Of the delicious home-cooked meals
That Mrs. Freitas (Edith) did make.
Before retiring for the night,
A friendly game of Hearts
Just might
Also be in store.
Henry Freitas was genial
And to visitors amenable—
The gate was always open.
Should those visitors be hopin’
The great Noor to see,
Henry personally
Would bring him out.
Now doesn’t that ranch hospitality
Remind you of Barn 55 with Z?
Loma Rica’s colors were royal blue and white,
The very same you today can sight
On the leg wraps of John Shirreffs’s horses—
Yes, those same hues
Are John’s too.
And John always trains
In accord with the main refrains
Of Henry Freitas:
“Put the horse first.”
And “Take your time, don’t rush.”
And that is how John Shirreffs did care
For his “Zenya,” the world’s greatest mare.
He had no fears
To wait nearly four years.
Patient, going slow,
Letting Zenyatta grow,
Gentle and kind,
Letting Z find
Her balance and gears,
Building her stamina,
Nurturing her inner anima
So she never stopped loving to run
And finding life—and people---fun.
John Shirreffs showed all how it’s done!
Today he remains
A soft-spoken man
Who believes in the carrot, not the stick,
Be it with horse or human.
His smile is easy and quick,
And you will spy
A twinkle in his eye.
Nowadays he is as at home in the barn
Above which jets buzz
As they their approaches to LAX start
Or therefrom depart
As once he was
At rural Loma Rica,
With its hundreds
Of rolling green acres
Crossed by white fences, like lace,
Where Thoroughbreds
Were bred
And trained to race,
Or on that familial New Hampshire farm
Where the love of this man
For the horse first began.
He’s a quiet guy,
Not really shy,
Yet happiest out of the limelight.
When his entry
In victory
To the winner’s circle does go,
He just might
From the apron take in that show,
For what makes his heart sing
Is witnessing
The delight
Those victories bring
To the horses’ adoring
Fans and owners.
Dear Mr. Shirreffs,
You are the best!
We wish you great success
And every happiness!

Happy birthday, Mr. Shirreffs, and many, many more! Thank you for giving us the great Zenyatta, Horse of Our Lifetime!

Note: The 2009 interview of John Shirreffs by Frances J Karon can be found in Issue Number 14 of North American Trainer, October 14, 2009.



  • carolinarkansascarolinarkansas hot springs, arkansasMember
    great work trina...you are a marvel
  • caseycasey any racetrack with camera in handMember
    Happy Birthday, John! Thank you for always being so sweet to us nutty dumplings, for taking such amazing care of your horses, your fans, and your owners. You, sir, are the classiest. And to the Poet Laureate of the Dumplings, as always, Trina, superb!
  • Hope your day was fantastic and that your year will be the best ever. Best wishes with Morning Line and Mr. Commons, and all at Barn 55! Big hugs to you and to Dottie!
  • A Birthday Poem for John Shirreffs
    (June 1, 2012)

    Out of the East
    To California came
    A young ex-Marine,
    John Shirreffs by name,

    [edited for brevity]
    Trina, you really outdid yourself with this wonderful poem. Beautifu! You are so very talented! Hugs.
  • Happy Birthday Mr. Shirreffs!
  • Happy Birthday, Mr. Shirreffs!! Hope your day was wonderful!! Thank you for all that you do!!
  • Happy Birthday, John!!! Hope you have many more birthdays and successes on the Racetracks! You are one of a kind, and we really admire you!
  • LlnayLlnay Member
    Happy Birthday Mr Shirreffs! Hope you had a great day. Hope there are many more to come. Thank you for all you do for the the racing community. You are first class in everything you do. Thanks so much for giving us Zenyatta. She is our Queen forever and always.

    Lou in Tx
  • AlexAlex Member
    HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I hope you had a FABULOUS DAY...
  • Happy Birthday Mr Shirreffs! Hope your day was wonderful and is followed by a successful week-end! Thank you for your contributions to racing and for the care that you take with the horses you train, especially Zenny.
  • You're amazing Trina! Love it!

    Happy Birthday John!
  • Hugs from me too, Trina. Amazing poem. Didn't log on yesterday, so missed the chance to wish Happys to John Shirreffs. Belated best wishes, and for the rest of the year much happiness as well.
  • Happy belated birthday Mr. Shirrefs. Thanks for all those great horses, especially Zenny!
  • John, hope you had a fantastic birthday. :):)
  • Happy Birthday Mr John Shirreffs. Hope your day was Blessed and joyful. I am sure the Queen sent flowers and the Prince, a video of himself prancing around and saying, look at how fast I am going,am a big boy already and mama says I'll make a great Race Horse. Our love to Dottie.Lastly, thank you and Dottie for the love you poured into Queen Zenyatta and making her the best Race Horse Ever, thank you also for the love you always show all the Horses in your care.Remain Blessed always.Good Luck this weekend.
  • A Birthday Poem for Susan in TN
    (Birthday: June 3)

    As life for us goes around,
    Often in the end
    A human “friend”
    Will themself from us remove
    And prove
    Themself shallow and phoney,
    Just so much baloney
    When the chips are down.
    In contrast,
    Susan in TN
    Has in the past
    Animals’ friendship to be
    Both steadfast
    And profound.
    Comments by others here
    Did her steer
    To volunteer
    At a horse rescue,
    And she in turn
    Our emotions stirred
    As she in her posts us told
    How her saga there did unfold.
    Susan had soon
    Taken under her wing
    A small part of the herd
    At River Edge Farm.
    ’Twas for all a wonderful thing
    And a most special boon
    To the shy and the old.
    One gelding called Rootbeer,
    Still very young,
    Had many a fear
    And much did him alarm.
    Dear Susan gave him a hand,
    And when she was done,
    He no longer showed any trace
    Of how he’d been fearful to face
    Close contact with the human race.
    So great a job did Susan do
    That when a loving family came by
    To adopt,
    They found Rootbeer just grand
    And for him did opt,
    Never suspecting at all
    That once he’d been shy.
    Next, when it for two oldsters seemed
    That their days
    At River Edge
    Might after all be limited,
    Susan, along with Sharon Call,
    Did choose
    To save
    Chester the Pony
    And his new-found friend Chopper,
    Two aging boys in hues
    Of copper.
    Next door Susan did them move,
    Soon those two
    Again found their groove
    And did of their lodgings and care
    Most thoroughly approve
    And welcomed attention too
    From the farm family’s young sons
    Who gave them tons
    Of pats and treats
    And assisted with their eats.
    Soon Annie came to make a congenial third
    In their new little herd.
    They had animal friends galore:
    Hens and their chicks
    Came daily on visits;
    The family cat
    Often with them sat
    As they all basked
    In the warm sun;
    And the farm’s sweet Labrador
    Did them adore.
    Chester and Chopper couldn’t have asked
    For anything more.
    Susan did hope that there
    They both would yet spend
    Many a year
    Without a care,
    But Chester, aged close to thirty if a day,
    Sadly did pass away
    Just before Susan’s birthday,
    Which was thus marked, I fear,
    By many a tear.
    We pray
    That the angels above
    With heavenly love
    Continue to spoil that dear pony rotten—
    Here below he’ll never be forgotten.
    Chopper has Annie the mare
    To help him this loss to bear,
    And Susan, of course,
    Will still be there
    For him to care
    And to his needs tend.
    But for Susan herself to heal
    And begin
    With this loss to deal,
    I imagine,
    As in times of bereavement before,
    She’ll need to call on
    Other loved horses,
    Her own with her hubby John.
    Foremost amongst them all
    Is their beloved Choctaw.
    It will be he, I bet,
    Who will start
    To restore
    Susan’s aching heart.
    Choctaw is most affectionate
    Though likely himself to fret
    Should not his routine be kept
    And his expectations met.
    This tale you may recall
    Of when Susan and John
    Last summer a plane got on
    And did for Frisco depart
    Their son’s wedding to attend
    And most of a week there to spend.
    Little had they suspected
    Their absence would send
    Their dear Choctaw
    To a state near despair
    When they didn’t return
    At the end of the day
    As he had expected.
    Soon he lay down
    On the ground
    And didn’t care
    To get up
    Even his food to sup—
    All nourishment did he spurn.
    The vet was summoned
    And did right away come,
    But he nothing detected
    As the cause
    Of it all.
    No sooner was the son wed,
    Than John, full of deep dread,
    Back did head,
    Fearing Choctaw wouldn’t survive
    Till he should arrive
    And could be by his side.
    But goodness sake’s alive!
    It does seem
    That’s all
    That sweet
    Did indeed need,
    For once he John did see,
    He was back on his feet
    And ready to eat--
    And still does he thrive!
    It gives one pause
    To see
    Such an emotional bond,
    And it fills one with awe
    To know how fond
    Of his
    Dear Susan and John
    And how he has earned
    Their love in return.
    Come that fall,
    They still had concern
    For Choctaw
    And his proclivity
    To forgo all activity
    And even water and hay
    Should they be away.
    Susan and John
    Didn’t want to let on
    That they WOULD be away,
    Though just for the day,
    For Zenyatta’s Breeders’ Cup party.
    They their hour to leave did delay
    So that Choctaw, that smarty,
    Would not detect
    Anything at all suspect
    In their routine,
    Or else their beloved paint
    Might raise a complaint.
    They didn’t dare
    Let him of a change be aware
    Lest he give them another scare.
    They, his tranquility to ensure,
    A bit belatedly their way wended
    To the party and racing scene
    Over in Kentuck’
    And had to boot a bit of bad luck
    With a construction detour,
    So when they arrived,
    Z’s party already had ended!
    But Susan did us assure
    That though sadly she
    Not one Dumpling met,
    She doesn’t regret
    That they went,
    For they three races did enjoy,
    And returning home they found their boy
    Waiting for them at the fence.
    All in all,
    ’Twas a day
    Well spent,
    One she’ll never forget.
    Dearest Susan, we hope that kismet
    Will let
    You in the future be blessed
    With many more such days of happiness—
    Your Z brothers and sisters
    Wish you forever all the best!

  • A Poem of Commemoration for Anne Frank on Her Birthday
    (June 12, 1929 – early March 1945)

    Anne at birth
    Lived in a tranquil Frankfurt,
    But early in ’33
    Her family did see
    Darkest evil
    Begin to spread
    Throughout Germany.
    Her parents were starkly aware
    Of impending hurt
    And upheaval,
    So when she was just four
    She with her mother and sister fled
    To the land next door
    Where her dad had gone on ahead
    Just months before
    A new home for them to prepare.
    In Amsterdam she a normal life led
    Free from great dread
    Till the Netherlands to German occupation fell
    And restrictions on Jews were imposed.
    Then for her family came a death knell
    As the evil knocked on their door:
    To her sister a notice was sent
    That she was supposed
    Herself to present
    For deportation.
    With no hesitation
    The family chose
    Together into hiding to go
    In secret quarters filling
    The hinter part
    Of an old business building.
    There they did start
    A sequestered existence.
    Only a very few,
    Who trusted employees
    Had been,
    Of their presence.
    Never again
    Could the Franks be at their ease.
    On these trusted few they relied
    To provide
    With food to eat
    While they had to hide.
    No one knew
    If they would succeed
    With their feat
    Of deception,
    Nor for how long
    They would have to escape detection.
    Anne with her took
    The little diary book
    She’d just received
    As a thirteenth birthday present
    And recorded therein
    Her daily reflections
    As this life of hiding did begin,
    And she the pages did fill
    With her joys and her fears
    For just over two years
    As in hiding she the Nazis deceived
    And their death camps evaded.
    She longed a writer to be
    And felt elated
    When in words she her thoughts dressed.
    Far beyond her age,
    She the importance of giving
    “You can always, always give something,
    Even if it’s only kindness!”
    Her writing skill she felt was a true blessing:
    “I want to go on living
    Even after my death!
    And therefore I am grateful
    To G-d for this gift,
    This possibility
    Of … writing,
    Of expressing
    All that is in me.”
    She in all honesty to her diary confessed
    What she saw as her own failings
    And at times resorted to railing
    When bearing the unbearable load
    Led her to explode.
    In writing did she her soul free
    From the chains of her captivity.
    In the darkness of those days and nights,
    She wrote, and I quote:
    “I can shake off everything if I write;
    My sorrows disappear;
    My courage is reborn.”
    Though from us she was cruelly torn,
    Today we still her words hear.
    She her moral principles maintained;
    Her spirit remained
    Today we thank
    Anne Frank,
    Who in quarters cramped and dank
    While the outside world into darkness sank,
    Lit her candle of faith
    In the inherent goodness of man,
    And God,
    To fight against the evil wraith
    And his brown-shirted clan
    Who then the earth trod.
    Her name, message and fame
    With us remain,
    For to highest acclaim,
    Far beyond her imagination,
    She did realize that aspiration
    To live on in her words after death.
    Her diary takes away our breath
    And will continue to give inspiration
    In the world’s every nation
    For generation
    Upon generation.

    Note: Happy birthday wishes to Cynthia Holt, who requested a poem for Anne Frank, who shares her June 12 birthday, instead of one for herself. We love you, Cynthia, and send you many hugz and well wishes always! Trina
  • Happy June Bdays to all!
  • Sent you a birthday note in the blog. Here's wishing you had a fabulous day. Thank you for all you do and have done. Your gentle kind way of training should be the norm and not the exception. So sorry I did not get a chance to talk with you at the BCC in KY. Maybe next time
    With great admiration and appreciation
    Sending Love, hugs and kisses
  • T_BuckT_Buck Member
    happy birthday John Shirreffs
  • trinanageletrinanagele Member
    edited June 2012
    A Birthday Poem for Sharon in Seattle
    (June 18, 2012)

    Sharon has said
    ’Twas when she read
    Laura Hillenbrand’s Seabiscuit book
    That she fell in love with the Thoroughbred.
    This new love her then led
    To take, in the year
    A closer look
    At the Derby
    On TV
    And subsequently
    For the winner Funny Cide to cheer
    In hopes that he
    A Triple Crown champ would be.
    In years to come,
    Sharon eventually
    Would journey south in person to see
    The Santa Anita Derby run--
    ’Twas 2007, the year of Tiago,
    But little did Sharon know
    That those connections of T,
    The Mosses, John Shirreffs, and Mikie,
    Were giving then just a taste
    Of what was to come
    When Team Z
    Would begin to race!
    Sharon came back in October ’08
    And saw Zenyatta celebrate
    A mighty fine
    Win number nine
    In the Ladies’ Classic,
    On the far turn going six wide,
    Confidently pulling ahead
    With each majestic stride
    Under Mikey’s hand ride.
    Then in ’09
    Sharon was there for the Classic race
    Where Z the best of the boys would face.
    Standing at the rail
    Outside the receiving barn
    Before the race took place,
    Sharon could have stretched out an arm
    To give Z a loving thump
    On her rump
    While Mario her paraded
    As protocol did entail
    And the boys alone inside the barn waited,
    Not knowing they were fated
    In their attempts against the great Z to fail.
    It still shivers
    Sharon’s timbers
    To think of that day,
    And she feels deeply blessed
    This race to have witnessed.
    Fifty-two thousand voices as one shouted
    When Z out of the traffic emerged
    And then commandingly surged
    As she away from the field burst
    To again finish first
    And silence those who had doubted!
    In 2010 Sharon again her calendar did mark,
    And she Zenyatta followed
    As her schedule her allowed:
    First up was the Apple Blossom at Oaklawn Park.
    Not wishing to fail
    To secure a place on the rail,
    Sharon showed up race morning at eight
    Before the crowd did congregate.
    ’Twas the very date
    When the Queen,
    While presiding pre-race
    O’er the infield scene,
    Heard her name read aloud
    And she her adoring fans wowed
    As she in response most graciously
    To them bowed.
    Then racing on the track,
    Starting again way back,
    Z to all the others gave chase,
    Till moving up with ease,
    Pretty as you please,
    Taking her sixteenth win
    By more than four lengths
    To the thunderous din
    Of the crowd.
    Next Sharon traveled to Hollywood Park
    To take part
    In Z’s final fan day farewell
    And to bask one more time
    In her magical spell
    As Z retired, still in her prime.
    Sharon has long participated
    In all kinds of animal rescue,
    And has many a cat, dog, burro or horse aided.
    She took in her spaniel mix Flores
    From a neighbor whose mores
    Were to deride
    Since he scarcely subsistence most meager
    For Flores did provide.
    Sharon had spied
    That twenty-pound girl, long-haired and black,
    Who did totally for affection lack
    Save what she from Sharon could sense
    Through the chain-link fence.
    Sharon long tried
    To appeal to the man’s better side
    And did her time bide
    Till at long last he did decide
    Flores to Sharon to give.
    How Flores did rejoice with Sharon to live!
    Flores was also eager
    At Sharon’s side
    More of the world to explore.
    She always found it a treat
    To go for a car ride,
    Safely strapped in on the passenger side
    In her own high doggie car seat.
    Sadly last July after some thirteen years,
    Dear Flores to the Rainbow Bridge passed.
    Now Sharon misses Flores so
    And still for her sheds tears,
    Though she’s not at all alone.
    She’s granny
    To her daughter’s dog, Jackson Joe
    (They with her do reside),
    And also auntie
    To her sister’s dog Capone.
    And for seven years
    She’s had her own kitties,
    The two dear Missy’s,
    Missy Frannie
    And Missy Annie.
    Sharon did confide
    That though neither cat will abide
    Being plucked up from the ground,
    She has found
    Whenever she sits on her fanny
    Or in bed reclines,
    Those two felines
    Are in her lap or by her side
    Where they patiently stay
    And doe-eyed
    Do for petting plead
    And often therein succeed.
    This May
    Sharon did count herself lucky
    As she managed away to slip
    For a trip
    To Kentucky,
    Where she her old favorite Funny Cide
    (And Cigar as well)
    Up close and personal did visit.
    She them did tell
    That they still look swell,
    And they both their heads did bob
    And self-confidently nod
    In assent.
    To Funny Cide
    Sharon further did confide
    She knew he had his very best tried
    That Belmont to win,
    And though that him did elude,
    He’d had the right attitude.
    If only on that muddy track
    He’d not been sent
    To “the dead rail”
    Where, it was said, the mud was deepest,
    He might have managed to prevail
    In that hard-fought contest
    And now look back
    As a Triple Crown champ.
    In Sharon’s eyes
    Though he won not that prize,
    All the same,
    A true champion he was
    And does so remain.
    High hoof to you,
    Dear Sharon,
    For carin’
    For all God’s creatures,
    Who feature
    So much in your life!

    Happy birthday, dear Sharon, and many, many happy returns!

  • A Birthday Poem for Arlene Nelson in Vermont
    (June 21, 2012)

    Our dear Arlene
    Used to ride,
    Most serene,
    Through the green countryside
    On her Appaloosa mare,
    Ladybug by name.
    Later Arlene
    Could be seen
    Riding a horse just a little less tame,
    A chestnut pastured in their field
    For whom she did care.
    As she him galloped down country roads for fun,
    The long locks of her own curly mane
    Out behind her did stream.
    Trouble was, Charlie sometimes was keen
    There on the roads of Vermont
    To make their routine
    A shade more piquant—
    He the bit would take in his teeth
    And no one him then could beseech
    To his rider to yield.
    Arlene did prefer of course
    To be in control of her horse,
    But once started on a galloping run,
    Charlie was wont
    Not to listen.
    Soon his neck
    Wet with sweat
    Would glisten
    And gleam
    As he at top speed
    Careened with Arlene,
    But did her not heed
    As he raced o’er the ground.
    I imagine her heart did pound
    ’Till he finally came ’round
    And his pace did abate.
    Can anyone else to that relate?
    I don’t hesitate
    To state
    ’Twould make me quake!
    But our dear Arlene
    Is made of sterner stuff—
    She’s Yankee tough
    When she has to be,
    Like when things got really rough
    With Hurricane Irene.
    ‘Twas the end of August a year ago
    When every Vermont river and stream
    Began from the rain to overflow–
    Even creeks
    Did swell and rage.
    Electricity was lost,
    In some places for days
    And in others for weeks,
    Bridges by dozens were swept away
    And roads destroyed,
    To replace at great cost.
    The newscasts did relate
    How National Guards from eight states
    To help in Vermont were deployed.
    Arlene’s home did flood
    And filled with mud–
    What a task it was to clean
    And repair
    From the ravages of Irene,
    But through thick and thin,
    Never did Arlene despair!
    What a true heroine!
    I hope our dear Arlene
    Still has there
    Her Breyer figurine
    Of the Queen
    And her Dumpling name tag
    Which made her heart so glad
    Just before Irene came on the scene.
    Dearest Arlene, whatever family and friends
    Have for you planned,
    We hope this birthday is extra grand!

    Happy birthday, Arlene, and many, many happy returns!
  • ArleneArlene Member
    Dear Trina, Thank you so much. The poem is great. What a great way to start my birthday!
    Yes, I still have my Zenyatta Breyer and Dumpling tag. They were among the things I carried up stairs before we left the house - having to take our dog and head for the hill in back of our house by foot and over to the neighbors, where we stayed over night. When we walked back home the next morning the water was gone. But the mud was not!!! But it's gone now and our house is renovated! Love, Zster Arlene
  • Happy birthday to Arlene & Sharon! Hope you have a good one.
    Great poems Trina.
  • I hope everyone who already had their june Birthdays were blessed and are still being Blessed, those who are yet to have their june Birthdays, this is wishing you all God's Blessings,Peace, Joy, Favor all rolled into a nice big shinny gift box.Am sure the Queen is having a hard time keeping junior from eating too much cake and kicking up his heels prancing around. It is well, LOL to all.You are all good people and am Blessed for being a part of this wonderful forum.!
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