Written by Brianne Sanchez
The Kentucky Derby is a spectacle all right, and a mighty fine reason for a party. Churchill Downs is the ultimate scene the first Saturday of May. It’s where men in seersucker suits and Southern belles in gorgeous millinery gather to sip mint juleps and place their bets. Lush Louisville rosebushes bloom. “My Old Kentucky Home” resounds from the stands, and world-class Thoroughbreds thunder around the track.
There may be nothing quite like seeing the Derby from beneath the Twin Spires, but when it comes to a rollicking party, Central Iowa has one up on Churchill Downs. The bourbon is better (and poured more liberally) at the Dallas County home where Rowena and Ted Crosbie host their annual Derby party.
“In my opinion, it’s the end-all Derby party in Des Moines,” says Cathy Erickson, a Des Moines publicist and event planner who grew up on a Thoroughbred farm and has attended the Kentucky Derby both as a fan and as a journalist. “One of the things I love about Rowena’s party is that it’s loaded with horsemen. It’s a group of people who want to watch all of the pre-race coverage.”
Horses set the scene for the 80 or so guests lucky enough to attend the Crosbies’ annual party. “We’re out there in the rolling hills and beautiful pastures and timber,” says Rowena Crosbie, president of Tero International Inc. “It really is a paradise.” Her only disappointment is that the 300 rosebushes in her garden don’t bloom in time for Derby day.
Junior, Max and Prince, the family’s three Thoroughbreds, graze alongside the drive toward Sky of Fire Stables, the Crosbies’ Earlham home. This “sylvan setting,” the Crosbies’ gracious hospitality and an eclectic guest list create an electric atmosphere, notes party attendee and former ambassador Kenneth Quinn, president of the World Food Prize Foundation.
Indeed, once guests get through the door, the party is about connecting with other community leaders. Guests have included Gov. Terry Branstad and first lady Chris Branstad, Lt. Gov. Kim Reynolds and her husband, Kevin, and Iowa State University President Steven Leath.
“(The Crosbie) home is filled with interesting people,” Quinn says. “You go from room to room, and each one has a different circle of folks there with different backgrounds and interests. If Jerry Crawford’s local racing group has a horse (in the Derby), that escalates the excitement exponentially.” (Des Moines attorney and Democratic strategist Crawford is a founding partner of Donegal Racing, an ownership group that’s had two horses in the Kentucky Derby.)
Quinn says he doesn’t typically follow horse racing but likes to do a bit of research before the party. He’s not part of the group with extensive knowledge of the breeding lines, but everyone seems to watch the race alongside those who share their level of interest. For other guests, the event is also a chance to show off their fashion sense as well as follow the races.
“Every year, there’s a little more pageantry in the costume,” Rowena says. “People will spend the year looking for the right statement hat.”
Guests are kept entertained during the daylong party. The invitation previews questions asked at the party’s Kentucky Derby quiz (What is Millionaire’s Row? Which Iowa-owned horse placed third in the Derby in 2012?
What was the name of the first filly to win the Derby?) and promises appetizers and dinner after the race. Guests often contribute to the spread, too.
Dinner, typically Ted Crosbie’s domain, often consists of smoked ribs and brisket. (Ted, head of Monsanto Co.’s Integrated Farming Systems, makes a mean barbecue.) But, let’s be clear: The party—like most Derby parties—is also about the drinks.
The Crosbies grow their own mint patch for the juleps, and their friend Rick Hickman and son, Dr. Jonathan Crosbie, tend bar. They mix a simple syrup with Woodford Reserve, a premium small-batch Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey. The concoctions are served in official Triple Crown commemorative glasses on loan from Erickson, a detail that provides an air of authenticity.
At post time, guests can gather around nine different television sets. (There’s even one attached to the bathroom mirror.) “Everybody has their favorite horse and jockey, but there’s not an exchange of money that I’m aware of,” Rowena says. “One of the things that’s so hilarious is that we have a big party for a race that’s only two minutes long.”
Wagering isn’t what attracts the crowd of high-profile guests, anyhow. The party’s draw is really its invitation—if only for an afternoon—into an almost alternate world where an afternoon lingers like vowel sounds in a sweet Southern drawl.
“As the day winds down, it’s wonderful to have a chance for a personal tour to see (the Crosbies’) horse trailers and wonderful accommodations in the RV they take on various trips,” Quinn says. “Ted and Ro are such distinguished business leaders but that’s a whole other dimension of their lives.”
