Margarethe Johanna Hertha von Voigt (pronounced fŏn Fōt) was 17, and too young to compete in the 1960 Olympics in Stockholm.  But she was Germany’s best standby junior rider, and was invited to accompany the horse team as an observer.  Just to be there was an honor, and ever so exciting.

Margarethe had grown up riding horses.  She could not remember a time when she hadn’t ridden horses.  Both of her parents competed professionally in jumping and dressage events.  “I rode horses even before I was born,” Margarethe says, “because my mother rode and jumped horses right up to her ninth month of pregnancy.”

Margarethe’s father, Kurt Hans Georg, was a brigadier general in the German army, and competed for Hitler as a rider in the 1936 Olympics held in Berlin.  He failed to place among the top three; but Margarethe’s mother, Johanna Augusta Hinsch still holds the women’s world record for high jumping horses in Europe.  She set the record in 1952 when her horse cleared 7 feet.

Her mother was Margarethe’s coach.  Margarethe and her horse worked hard.  The hard work and training were rewarded by the invitation to accompany the German horse team to the Olympics as an observer.

The team consisted of three riders and one backup rider in case one of the three became injured and was unable to compete.  The team’s best rider was a “daredevil,” according to Margarethe, and already possessed a gold medal from the previous Olympics.  Fritz Tiedeman was another excellent rider, competing on his big chestnut horse named Meteor.

Unfortunately for Germany, both the daredevil and Fritz Tiedeman suffered terrible falls just before the competition, and were carried off to the hospital.  With the one rider that was left, plus the backup rider, the German team was still short one rider.  An emergency appeal was made to the FEI (Federation of German Horse Association) for 17-year-old Margarethe to have permission to be the third member of the team.

With just two hours before the competition, permission was granted.  Margarethe didn’t even have her own horse there.  She would have to ride Meteor.  It was an impossible situation.  The horse and the rider had to know one another intimately in order for the horse to respond properly to the rider’s commands.  Margarethe had just two hours in which to get to know Meteor, and for Meteor to get to know her.  She was scared.  She told her mother, “I can’t go.  The jumps are too high.  The course is too rough, and there are a lot of strange obstacles.”

Her mother replied, “Honey, I love you.  You’re Viking blood.  I know you can do it.”

Margarethe worked with Meteor.  He responded well.  She explained to her mother how she’d ride the course.

“Sounds good,” her mother said.  “Just ride your best.  The Lord will open doors.”

With the mention of the Lord, Margarethe began crying.  She prayed.  She was scared.  The horse seemed like a friend, so she asked him, “Can we really do this?”

A voice over the loud speaker announced, “Margarethe Voigt, five minutes.”

Margarethe put her foot in the stirrup to mount.  As she flung the other foot over the horse’s back she said, “Lord, help me, because this is a hard one, and I don’t think I can do it.”

“Meteor turned his head around,” Margarethe said, “looked at me, and whinnied!”

Margarethe then forgot about the crowd.  She talked to Meteor like she talked to her horse at home, and jumped him like she’d jumped her own horse.

“In my riding and in my talking to the horse, I didn’t know if I had a clean go or not,” Margarethe said, “but when I finished, the crowd rose, and gave me a standing ovation.  My mom rushed up and kissed me.  ‘You held the team up,’ she said.  ‘You’re the only one that had a clean go!’”

The two more experienced riders each had four falls, meaning that the poles over which the horses jumped had fallen.  Margarethe, the 17-year-old bystander was the leading rider, and earned the bronze medal for the German team.

In the winner’s circle Margarethe gave Meteor a bite of a carrot, then she took a bite, too.

From his hospital bed, Fritz Tiedeman watched a film of Margarethe riding his horse.  He later told her, “I never saw anyone ride Meteor so good.  You and the horse were one.  Come ride him anytime.”

“No,” Margarethe said.  “I want to remember him as I rode him.”

“I saw Meteor at shows,” she said later.  “We became really good friends.  I always had a carrot for him.  I saw him once when I was in a wheel chair following an injury.  He came over to me and nuzzled me looking for the carrot that he knew I’d have.  I hid it up under my shirt, and he found it.”

Meteor was 35 when he was retired.

Margarethe Johanna Hertha Hicks was 72 when I interviewed her in the hospital following surgery to amputate her diabetic lower left leg.  She had a positive attitude about her situation, and was very cheerful; but became tearful and reverent as she spoke of Meteor, and as she reminisced about their impossible accomplishment together.