Olympics: Glen Ridge's Ashenfelter shocked Russian 50 years ago

Friday, July 26, 2002 BY ELLIOTT DENMAN
Reprinted courtesy of The Star-Ledger...

The Soviet Union was making its first appearance in the Olympics. The Cold War was raging. So headline writers just couldn't resist.

"FBI Man Runs Down Russian."

And Horace Ashenfelter just blushed. Never one to seek publicity, and certainly not someone who considered himself a celebrity, Ashenfelter became one of the country's biggest unsung heroes when he won Olympic gold in the 1952 Helsinki Games.

He chased down heavily favored Vladimir Kazantsev of the Soviet Union to become America's first -- and still only -- gold-medal winner in the 3,000-meter steeplechase, finishing the 7 1/2-lap race over 28 unyielding 3-foot wooden barriers and seven water jumps in a world-record time of 8:45.4.

The official U.S. Olympic Committee report that year called Ashenfelter's "the least expected of all USA victories."

This week marked the 50th anniversary of his memorable day on the world stage. Time to dig out the press clippings? Sip a little champagne? Take a 7 1/2-lap jog down memory lane?

Not quite. Things were same-old, same-old at a certain home in Glen Ridge.

To Ashenfelter -- who had to be reminded of the anniversary -- it is just another week. Another week to work on his 22-handicap on the golf course or play with his grandchildren or run his two miles or just sit and talk with his high school sweetheart -- his wife, Lillian.

"I'll be 80 next January (23)," he said last week. "I still run (a few days a week). I'm in good health. I have a great wife. Lillian's bright and talented and capable. We have a great family (four married sons and 12 grandchildren.) So I count my blessings."

He was a 29-year-old agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation when he went to Helsinki as a long shot with a personal-best 9:06.4; Kazantsev was the world-record holder (8:48.6).

But statistics did not mean much with 200 meters left in the race. Kazantsev, in front, stumbled slightly over the final water jump and Ashenfelter sprinted on to win by a 25-meter margin.

"I was very fortunate," he said. "Just think of all the other American runners, guys like Glenn Cunningham and Jim Ryun, who were the best in the world in their time, who never won gold medals. Or somebody like Henry Marsh (whose 8:09.17 performance has been the American steeplechase record since 1985), who never won an Olympic medal of any kind.

"Everything just broke perfectly for me. Everything worked out. I was in the best shape of my life at the best possible time."

The packed crowd at Olympic Stadium roared when Ashenfelter leaped over a railing, raced up 30 rows of steps, and planted a kiss on Lillian's lips. Her own memory of that Olympic kiss endures: "It was very salty."

At Collegeville (Pa.) High School, Ashenfelter played football, basketball and baseball, and found time to run a few races -- some in baseball spikes -- for the track team. His fastest high school mile time was an unpromising 5:09.

After a year at Penn State, he did three years of Air Corps duty before returning to State College, rejoining Coach "Chic" Werner's track team, and winning the NCAA two-mile title in 1949.

Many of his best performances, though, came after he moved to New Jersey and ran for the New York Athletic Club. They included eight National AAU titles, over three different distances, in indoor and outdoor track and cross country.

He won the James E. Sullivan Award in 1952, as the nation's finest amateur athlete. He made a second Olympic team in 1956, but barely missed making the steeplechase final at Melbourne, with his brother, Bill, there as a teammate. He was voted into the National Track and Field Hall of Fame in 1975 and the Sports Hall of Fame of New Jersey in 1998. Penn State's state-of-the-art indoor track facility now carries his name. And Glen Ridge hosts the Horace Ashenfelter 5K road run each Thanksgiving Day.

His Olympic triumph has encouraged legions of younger runners.

The first (Olympic) gold medal I ever saw was his," said Tom Fleming, the two-time NYC Marathon champion from Bloomfield. "When I was a high school kid, I had the nerve to call him and ask if I could come over to his house. I knew the worst he could say was 'no,' but he said 'sure' and I rode my bike over to his place.

"It's amazing that he's such a humble guy," Fleming said