They Don't Make Guys Like Harry Anymore

On the surface LOST IN THE FOG is the story of a racehorse; an unlikely champion that went on to distinguish himself as a horse for the ages. However, the story is really more about the horse’s owner, Harry Aleo, and his curious blend of charisma and ill humor.

I can’t really say enough about Harry. From the first moment I met him, I felt a kinship with him. We both grew up in the same neighborhood in San Francisco. In fact, his family store and home in Noe Valley were less than two blocks from the house in which I grew up. We ran the same streets and played in the same parks albeit 50 years removed from one another. I think that made a difference when I first went into his office to introduce myself. He took a shine to me immediately and was infinitely generous since day one. Lost in the Fog’s trainer, Greg Gilchrist, told me one time that I was lucky because Harry either likes you and will do anything for you or he doesn’t like you and he won’t talk to you for a thousand years. Well, I’m definitely one of the lucky ones.

I took on the story in 2005 and it turned into the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. I’m pleased with the final film but, more importantly, I was pleased to get to know Harry. Sadly, Harry’s gone now and by the same fate as his beloved horse. For those who didn’t keep track of the saga of Lost in the Fog, Harry was diagnosed with cancer about fourteen months ago. The doctors knew he had some kind of tumor near his pancreas and that it was malignant but they didn’t know if it had spread anywhere else in his body. The plan was to open him up, get the lay of the land, and cut out the cancer. If they discovered that the cancer had spread, however, the only option would be to close him up and figure out how best to make him comfortable in his final days. When they went in, they found that the cancer was everywhere.

Harry somehow maintained a sense of humor through it all. I used to joke with him and Greg that I needed one of them to die so that I would have a dramatic ending for my film and, true to form, Harry called me when he first got the news that there was a tumor - “Hey John, I think I have an ending for you.” I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that he was so sick and I couldn’t believe that he could joke about it. It felt like I got kicked in the stomach when I heard the news.

Harry soldiered on for several months and finally passed away in June. It was particularly bittersweet for me because the movie was finally seeing the light of day, due to make its premiere at a film festival called CineVegas. Harry had never been to Vegas and was all set to make the trip but as it turned out, come June, he was simply too sick to go. The movie played twice in Vegas and was received very enthusiastically, largely due to Harry’s charisma. I figured I would take off early from the festival in order to get back to SF and spend time with Harry in his last remaining days but the festival programmers told me to stick around. It looked like the movie would be getting an award at the end of the week. I decided to make a calculated gamble and stay through until the awards ceremony. In my mind it was a matter of respect for the festival programmers but I also thought it would be an opportunity to present Harry with one final gift in the form of this award. Sure enough, the film won the Audience Award for Best Documentary and I grabbed the crystal plaque and literally made a run for the airport. I knew time was short. When I got off the plane, I had a message on my cell phone. Harry had died while I was en route.

I have only one regret: I wish that I had met Harry a long time ago. I walked by his storefront on 24th St. every day for years and never made it inside but once his wonderful horse brought us together, Harry made me feel like an old friend. I just wish he hadn’t been so old when I met him.

NEXT TIME: The funny, salty story of Greg Gilchrist.