Harry M. Conley

Left Formation July 9, 2002

A riderless horse will highlight a celebration of the life of Harry Conley -- master horseman, hands-on cattleman, and much-decorated World War II bomber pilot -- at 2 p.m. Saturday, July 20, at the Mounted Patrol Grounds, 521 Kings Mountain Road, in Woodside.

Mr. Conley, who used to run cattle over the Peninsula foothills from Stanford to Canada College and up Windy Hill to Skyline, died July 9 at Stanford Hospital after an intermittent illness. He was 85.

Mr. Conley used to say he lived several lives, among them horses, cows, and "the War." Horses and the Spanish riding tradition were his love; cows were his business. "Cows are not pets," he once said.

A third-generation Californian on both sides, Harry Conley grew up in San Francisco with a family that rented a house in the "deep Peninsula" every summer. During the 1920s and 1930s, he learned to ride and love horses from the old "Californios," who maintained the great traditions of Spanish riding, most famously demonstrated at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna.

When Harry graduated from Stanford in 1938, he couldn't find a job as an aeronautical engineer during the Depression, so he went to work as a night cowboy and bookkeeper for a big meat company. He was second in command of a feed lot in Manteca on December 7, 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. The next day he enlisted; the day after that, he joined a new flight school in Bakersfield.

From the end of 1942 to Christmas 1944, Capt. Conley piloted B-17s in more than 80 missions over Germany, including D-Day. He crash-landed three airplanes, and was wounded. He received four Distinguished Flying Crosses, a Purple Heart, and a Bronze Star. He particularly treasured the Croix de Guerre with Palm he received for several secret missions he flew for the French. "Gen. De Gaulle presented it and kissed me on both cheeks," he said.

During his war years in Europe, Mr. Conley knew many renowned figures: he lunched with Winston Churchill, knew Jimmy Stewart, and was entertained by Bing Crosby and Glenn Miller the day before Miller was lost.

Back in Washington, Col. Conley assisted legendary Gen. Curtis Le May in training replacement pilots for the air war in the Pacific, and became project officer for the 509th Bomb Group, destined to deliver the atomic bomb. At the same time, he was courting the neighbor of his bombardier in Washington, D.C. -- with some difficulties because of his super-secret trips to Guam.

The newlyweds came to Menlo Park in 1945, and in 1946, Stanford offered Mr. Conley the pasture lease for its foothill lands. In the 1950s, before subdivisions and institutions crept over Portola Valley, Sharon Heights and Farm Hill, Mr. Conley ran 3,000 to 5,000 cattle in the open Peninsula hills. They re-created the old Spanish west, with brandings, barbecues and cattle drives.

Besides being a hands-on cowboy, Mr. Conley became a major cattle broker: buying, shipping, fattening, and selling herds over the western United States and Mexico.

Moving to Westridge in Portola Valley, the Conleys became active in the local community. Their four daughters attended Portola Valley schools and graduated from Woodside High School.

Mr. Conley was active in every horse organization in the county, and was a nationally rated horse show judge. He also worked with the group that incorporated Portola Valley in 1964.

The family operated at its home a small feed lot for lambs and cows raised by local 4-H kids, says daughter Robin Flournoy.

"Father was a beef leader, and Mother was a horse leader," she says. "We learned a lot about responsibility, and finishing what we started, and setting goals."

Mr. Conley put his daughters to work as soon as they could climb out of a pickup, open a gate, and keep out of the way, Mrs. Flournoy recalls. "We were known in the cattle industry as Harry's all-girl crew."

In the late 1960s, Mr. Conley built Portola Valley Training Center on Alpine Road, including the race course, and the first swimming pool for horses in Northern California. He bred, raised, and trained all his horses.

"He was a fine horseman," says longtime friend Stuart Whittelsey of Woodside.

Mrs. Conley died in 1977, and eight years later he married real estate agent Marcy Harris, who survives him.

At the time of his death, Mr. Conley was working on a book about his wartime experience with Mr. Whittelsey. "No Foxholes in the Sky" will be published this fall.

Family and friends recall Mr. Conley's love of life, love of horses, love of family, and love of the outdoors.

"He had a heart as big as the moon," says Mrs. Flournoy.

Mr. Conley is survived by Marcy Harris Conley, his wife of 17 years; daughters Karen Sorenson of Newburgh, Indiana, Vian Cafaro of Modesto, Sue Conley of Menlo Park, and Robin Conley Flournoy of Atwater, California; and four grandchildren; step-children Mark Aylward Harris of Providence, Rhode Island, Jill Harris Benshoof of Santa Clarita, Lynn Harris of San Jose, and three step-grandchildren.

The family suggests donations to the National Center for Equine Facilitated Therapy, 5001 Woodside Road, Woodside, CA 94062.

Published in The Almanac, July 17, 2002