Ocala, Florida wasn’t known for much back in the 1950s.  No real natural resources if you don’t count the National Forest east of town, and while Silver Springs drew in some intrepid tourists back around the turn of the century, the attraction and its glass-bottomed boats weren’t exactly making the town a vacation destination.

Much of that would change with one horse.

 

The horse is Needles, so named because he was a sickly colt who was always getting injections from the vet. The rider is Elmo Shropshire. More on him later.  

After Needles won the Kentucky Derby and the Belmont in 1956, other breeders flocked to Florida. It is said  that Needles sold more land than all the real estate agents in Marion County. Today, there are over a thousand horse farms in the area.  Ocala is becoming to horse racing what Monterey, California is to golf.  Florida-bred major stakes winners include Foolish Pleasure, Afleet Alex, Real Quiet, and the Q-worthy Lisa’s Booby Trap.

Elmo’s father was the manager of the first race horse farm in Ocala. Elmo graduated from Ocala High School, the University of Florida, and (since UF had no vet school at the time) Auburn Veterinary School, becoming a race track vet. He moved to California, where he had a thriving practice, dabbled with his guitar and had an infectious grin. In 1979 he recorded this loved / hated modern standard on a lark:

 

 

Doctor Elmo has recorded 12 albums, 17 videos and is a champion marathoner at the age of 87. 

Right about the time that Dr. Shropshire was starting his practice, a group of high schoolers from Ocala were working towards the dream of most every teen boy:  becoming rock stars.  They were a trio called the Posmen, and they played a few local gigs before fracturing, as most high school bands do.  While recruiting new members, the drummer noticed that their new Vox amp was called “The Royal Guardsman” and suggested that The Royal Guardsmen would be a cool name for the band, cashing in on the British Invasion and all.

 

 

They were pretty good, at least good enough to score a record deal.  Then they recorded the song that would consign them to novelty hell forever:

 

 

They persevered for some time, holding out against pressure from their label to record more novelty songs, and even touring in the “Summer Shower of Stars” tour with Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs and Tommy James and the Shondells.  They called it quits for the most part in 1979, electing to receive steady paychecks and starting families over life on the road and getting jobbed by their record company.  

The surviving members still play the occasional gig, but are mostly content with their small place in music history.