Jockey Dreams and Migrant Ranch Hands

 June 2013, I traveled south to Lexington, Kentucky for a week. One hot afternoon, my host recommended that I take the car and see Keeneland Racecourse: a thoroughbred horse racing facility and sales complex. It was a humid day with distant clouds threatening the vacant track and I found the well-maintained grasses lush and pristine. The arena was virtually void of people and besides the chance custodian; no one appeared to be busy. The only visitors I saw that day were a handful of lounging television watchers sitting in...