Whether he was on the red carpet, running a horse show, pulling out all the stops to organize a party or helming his public relations firm, Mason Phelps Jr. was always a force to be reckoned with.
He knew everyone and had a knack of getting them to do what he wanted, usually for the greater good of the equestrian community. He was often controversial, but never dull.
Mason Phelps in the National Horse Show’s orange and black colors. (Photo © 2014 by Nancy Jaffer)
The multi-faceted Mason, who died in his sleep last night, will be missed from Newport to Palm Beach and on out to the West Coast, as well as Canada, where he spent quiet summers.
After a dinner with friends at his home in Wellington, Fla., Mason went to bed and didn’t wake up, succumbing to a heart attack. It’s probably the way he would have wanted to go, but it was just too soon; he was only 72.
Even so, the founder of Phelps Media Group and former National Horse Show chairman crammed plenty into his interesting life, from being an alternate on the U.S. Olympic eventing team in 1968, when he was Rider of the Year for the U.S. Combined Training Association, to running a hunter/jumper stable, founding the International Jumping Derby on his family’s farm in Newport R.I., serving in equestrian governance, leading the National Horse Show and being integral to starting the Equestrian Aid Foundation (formerly the Equestrian AIDS Foundation), a fundraising organization for equestrians in need.
Mason on Gladstone at Punchestown, Ireland, 1967. (Photo courtesy of Phelps Sports)
Most recently, he stepped up to head a new group, Athletes Equity Resource Center, that is raising funds for Athletes for Equity in Sport.
Kim Tudor had dinner with Mason earlier this month and recalled, “I’d never seen him happier or looking better.”
She met him through Gene Mische, head of Stadium Jumping Inc., who put Mason in charge of public relations when the National Horse Show moved to Florida in 2004. Mason had no p.r. experience, but he learned fast and started Phelps Media Group, which became a public relations giant in the industry.
“If it could be done and even if it couldn’t be done, he was going to try it,” said Kim, noting, “he just had the spark that lit up any event.” And those events often were over-the-top lavish.
His Denim and Diamonds fundraisers for the U.S. Equestrian Team were legendary. Who could forget the party where show jumpers Margie Goldstein-Engle and Leslie Howard rode in on elephants? And the entertainment, with such names as Donna Summer, The Village People and The Pointer Sisters?
Someone once told Kim, “Mason Phelps is the only person I know who could exceed an unlimited budget.”
Mason often organized parties to benefit the U.S. Equestrian Team Foundation. (Photo © by Nancy Jaffer)
He definitely was a character, and a lot of fun, but never took himself too seriously.
“You could tell stories about him, but he could always tell them better,” observed Kim.
“Every room he was ever in, the spotlight was on him,” said Marty Bauman, head of the Classic Communications public relations agency and a close friend of Mason’s, who spoke to him just yesterday.
“He was a star, whatever he did, wherever he went. He packed a lot of living into his life.”
Gina Johnson, who knew Mason from her days working at Stadium Jumping, observed, “If you ever met anyone born to wear a tuxedo, that was Mason. He was so elegant and so funny and could be such a gentleman. Yes, he had very strong opinions and he was fearless in what he believed needed to be done.
“He was one of those once-in-a-lifetime personalities,” she remembered.
“He really did just light up the space he was in. It’s hard to believe he was mortal.”
Lenore Phillips, recently promoted to the presidency of PMG, is still in stunned disbelief at losing the company’s founder.
“It never occurred to me that there would be a situation when he wouldn’t be bugging me. I thought that was going to be a constant in my life and that I would be the one that went first,” she said with a sad chuckle, but noted the firm will continue without him.
Lenore, who had been a groom and a vet tech, always wanted to work for PMG, but through two interviews was told she didn’t have enough meaningful experience to qualify. Things changed in her third interview, when Mason marched into the room, interrupted and took over.
He talked to her for an hour and said “I think you’re the perfect fit for us, because you really know the industry and it seems like what you don’t know, you’ll figure out.”
She explained, “He gave me this huge chance and believed in me when other people didn’t. That’s just who he was. He loved people who loved our sport and there just isn’t going to be another person like him. There are so many people he propped up and pushed forward. That, I think, is the most important part of his legacy and that goes back to his generosity of spirit.”
Mason had more than one side; he definitely was multi-faceted.
“He was a judgmental person, and everyone who knows him knows how sharp he could be,” said Lenore.
“But at the same time, he was the first person to embrace you if you needed help.”
That help could take any form. When I met him at the Jumping Derby sometime in the 1980s, my rental car was stuck in the mud. Everyone had gone home, and I was alone–until Mason came along. He pitched right in and pushed my car out of the muck, this glamorous guy who had been hobnobbing with socialites at the fabulous Derby party the previous night.
When it came to those who had fallen on hard times and needed a financial boost, “he helped a lot of people, he gave a lot of money without a lot of recognition, and supported things related to the sport,” said Bill Weeks, chairman of the National Horse Show, who took over that position from Mason.
Bill is one of the many who have been impressed by Mason’s magic.
He remembered when Mason felt the National should move to Kentucky in 2011, he made a sponsorship pitch to Pearse Lyons, the head of Alltech, who had backed the 2010 Alltech FEI World Equestrian Games in Lexington.
Mason gave such a persuasive account of why Pearse should support the National that the executive ended up doubling the amount requested.
Mason got the National Horse Show moved to the Kentucky Horse Park. (Photo © by Nancy Jaffer)
“I was almost in disbelief,” said Bill remembering how stunned he was. “It was like one of those pinch-me moments.” That was especially true because if Pearse had not come through, the future of the show would have been in doubt.
“Mason was always at his best when the chips were down and his back was against the wall,” Bill mused.
“Somehow, he’d always find a way forward. Mason was like the Pied Piper. He just had that enthusiasm and entrepreneurial spirit. He would get people motivated and they would follow.”
Mason dressed to suit every occasion; after all, you can’t always wear a tuxedo. Who can forget the figure he cut during his days at the National Horse Show, sporting its traditional colors in orange pants and a black jacket, or alternatively, black pants and an orange jacket. Remember him in white tie and tails? And then there was the time in 2005 that the good sport was Willy Wonka for a National Horse Show party.
Mason didn’t always wing it, and he took important matter seriously. He knew the industry and had deep insight into how it would have to evolve. For instance, in 2014, despite his deep roots in the past, he took note of the fact that the fall indoor shows needed to keep reinventing themselves.
“It’s a changing world,” he told me.
“Those of us with these events have to change with the times and not get stuck. Tradition is fine and I’m a believer in tradition. At the same time, you have to find a balance between tradition and what’s current.”
