In ranching jeans or white gloves and home sewn suits, Velma Johnston fought to save the West's wild horses and inspired American kids to do the same

“Crest Donner Pass, pass foothill towns and swoop downhill toward the neon-edged casinos of Reno. Just before the Virginia Street exit a white cross rises skyward on your right. It marks Hilltop Cemetery, but you can't just turn right and get there. You won't happen upon the grave of Velma Johnston, the woman who preferred the at-first derogatory nickname Wild Horse Annie, either. Call for directions, pick up a map at the office and you'll still spend time walking head down into the wind before you kick aside leaves and find her. There's nothing peaceful about the horses sculpted on Annie's gravestone, nothing to hint she held off wild horses' extinction for decades because she knew where to turn for help. "I can almost see the star and stripes waving in their eyeballs when I tell them that these horses belong to all the people of America..." Wild Horse Annie knew in the 1960's and '70's that America's young people's hearts beat in time with those of wild horses. They still do.”

-----from WILD AT HEART: Mustangs and the Young People Fighting to Save Them 

by Terri Farley 2015 

 To read more about Wild Horse Annie, real Alan J. Kania's book 
    or mine