LOUISVILLE, Ky. (WDRB) -- The grandstand was empty. But a crowd still came. Horse people from across the country — from track presidents to barn workers — filed into Churchill Downs on Tuesday afternoon, not for a race but to remember a man who changed them all.
And somehow, it felt like D. Wayne Lukas was still running the show.
"He originally wanted this at 3:45 a.m.," his grandson Brady Lukas said, to laughter from the crowd. "Just to remind you to set your alarm clocks a little earlier."
Many spoke about Lukas during this two-hour Celebration of Life. But it was Brady who had the most singular view of the Hall of Fame trainer. Not through the lens of stats and stakes wins but through the eyes of a grandson. The kind of eyes that catch the little things, both distant and poignantly near. Eyes that saw beyond the image and captured the transition of a man from the face of a sport to the soul of a family.
Brady, whose dad, Jeff, was seriously injured when one of Wayne's colts, Tabasco Cat, ran over him in 1993, called the trainer Wayne, not Grandpa, not Coach. But that never meant there wasn't love. In fact, as he told it Tuesday, that love came in Wayne-sized doses and never in moderation.
Guests are seated before a Celebration of Life for D. Wayne Lukas at Churchill Downs on August 19, 2025.
When Brady told his grandfather he was starting baseball and needed some equipment, Lukas gave him a glove that Roger Clemens had signed and a bat that was so fancy it wasn't allowed in Little League — not to mention a pitching machine too big for their home. When Brady played basketball, he can remember Wayne stepping to the free-throw line to make 20 or 30 straight, then losing it when his grandson missed one.
"They're called free throws, you know," he'd say. "They're free points."
When Brady asked for college football advice and mentioned that the Air Force Academy was recruiting him, Lukas hung up, midsentence. Five minutes later, Brady's phone rang again — it was Bill Parcells.
"You should go to the Air Force Academy," Parcells told him.
That was Wayne's way of showing he cared. And approved.
"It was the first time I felt he was really proud of me," Brady said. "He literally told everybody. Many of you have probably heard it. He always introduced me as 'Maj. Brady Wayne Lukas, United States Air Force.'"
Over the years, Lukas called his grandson more. By virtue of his role in the Department of Defense, Brady became Wayne's "internet guy." He'd call wanting live calls of horse races, and the grandson would pull up this race or that and do the best he could.
But over time, the calls changed. Thanks to the delight he took in his great-grandchildren and to the influence of his wife, Laurie, the man who always put the horses first started picking up the phone just to talk. To check in.
When his new great-granddaughter was in the hospital, he called twice a day.
"That grandpa intuition took over in his later years," Brady said. "Something we welcomed. Something we will always cherish. ... It was a pleasant tradition that came with old age, or the godsend that was Laurie. I credit the latter."
Todd Pletcher, who knew Lukas first as a hero, then a boss, then a competitor, and finally as a friend, said it was the role of grandfather that changed the man the most.
"That's when we saw him go from being the face of racing to the ambassador of racing," Pletcher said "And I'm sure Laurie had something to do with that."
The coach, the competitor — the friend
Pletcher knew all the versions of Lukas.
During the COVID Derby in 2020, Pletcher had logistical issues getting a horse to Kentucky. He called Lukas for help. Wayne said just send the horse. He'd supply the help, the stall, the feed — everything.
Then came the daily calls.
Photo of D. Wayne Lukas on display at his Celebration of Life on August 19, 2025.
"Wayne would say, 'The horse looks pretty good,'" Pletcher recalled. "Then, 'He looks really good.' Then, 'I think he's got a shot.'"
The horse ran 13th of 15 in that strange, September Derby.
"But that optimism never left him," Pletcher said. "In this business, that's rare."
It gave him great longevity. But it was no good at the betting window. Brady called him the "world's worst handicapper. He is the only person who could box seven horses in the superfecta in an eight-horse field and find a way to lose."
In 2014, he won the Breeders' Cup Juvenile Fillies with Take Charge Brandi, who went off at 61-1. On the winner's stand, as he raised the trophy, the governor by his side, Brady remembered his grandfather leaning back and asking, "Did we hit the super?"
No, they did not.
One final gate
The last ride for Lukas, in many ways, happened far from the track.
Hall of Fame jockey Pat Day got the call from Laurie a couple of days after Wayne decided to leave the hospital and spend the remainder of his days at home with family. She wondered if Day might come and pray with Wayne and baptize him. Day didn't hesitate.
Their home sat back in the woods, peaceful and quiet. Day sat beside the trainer and held his hand.
"When I saw Wayne, it certainly wasn't what I had expected," Day said. "It was extremely hard to see someone who had been bigger than life in that condition. But he was coherent, and I sat down next to him and held his hand, and we talked a little bit. I asked him if he had, in fact, believed in Jesus, and he said he had. And I asked him if he would like to be baptized. Again, he said yes."
With Laurie present, Day prayed and baptized the man who'd become something larger than life — not just in horse racing but in the lives of so many people.
"It was the highlight of our relationship," Day said.
They continued to sit there, hand in hand, Day praying silently.
"I wasn't sure I would ever see him again, at least not here," Day said. "But I know, because of his profession of faith in Jesus Christ, that we will meet again."
The legacy left
This was Lukas, on a quiet afternoon beneath the Twin Spires. For the last time, coming home a winner.
It's still difficult for many of us to believe. It really hasn't been that long since Lukas, at age 89, was bucked off his horse. Three days later, he was back on.
So, it still very much feels like he'll be at the barn in the morning. He'll round the corner through the gap on his pony. He'll wander into the paddock wearing his suit, his sunglasses and a good feeling.
Pictured: dozens of people gathered at the First Turn Club at Churchill Downs to celebrate the legacy of Hall of Fame trainer D. Wayne Lukas. (WDRB/Ariana Shchuka)
David Brooks, author and columnist, writes a lot about the difference in resume virtues and eulogy virtues. A lot of us spend a lifetime trying to compile the former, but when we go, everyone remembers the latter.
On Tuesday, not many people mentioned the wins. They remembered the poetry. The small gestures. The quiet mornings on horseback just as much as the afternoons in the winner's circle. The quick phone call in the afternoon as much as the pitching machine on the front porch, the uncomfortably fast car ride to the track as much as the races themselves.
Lukas, to his lasting credit, left plenty of both. But it was his shining final chapter in life that leaves such a fond luster on everything else. And that left a ballroom full of people on Tuesday wishing they had just a few days more.
I wondered, after all that everyone has said and written about Lukas, what was left to be said. Those who spoke on Tuesday answered my question, but none more than his grandson, who showed us the man from a vantage point only he and his sister could see.
"Make sure you beat my dad to the barn in the morning," Brady said to the crowd, in parting.
D. Wayne Lukas always set the pace. To the end, and beyond.
Many spoke about Lukas during this two-hour Celebration of Life. But it was Brady who had the most singular view of the Hall of Fame trainer. Not through the lens of stats and stakes wins, but through the eyes of a grandson.
More on D. Wayne Lukas:
D. Wayne Lukas, Hall of Fame trainer who transformed thoroughbred racing, dies at 89
Scott Davenport praises storied career of friend D. Wayne Lukas as trainer retires
Coffee with Crawford | D. Wayne Lukas never let the old man in — now he's turning for home
Hall of Fame trainer D. Wayne Lukas retires from racing amid serious health issues
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