Just after 5 p.m. Saturday, the last line of greyhounds started their long walk down the Southland track to the starting gate.

“It’s the last great race,” said the track announcer.

Nobody in attendance needed to be told.

They had come for this bittersweet moment. They had come to see an era end.

“Here comes Rusty!” said the track announcer, referring to the mechanical rabbit that leads the dogs around the course. “You’ll never hear that again.”

Calkins: Farewell, Jarvis! Thanks for more than 43 years of joy.

The gates opened. The eight dogs— a mesmerizing blend of muscle and grace — flew down the track and into posterity.

Cameras flashed.

Moments later, a dog named Smile N Mean It crossed the line to become Southland’s last winner.

The owners, Dave and Mary Robinette, posed for a photo. Someone asked them how it felt.

“Pretty sad, actually,” said Dave Robinette. “We’ve done this our entire lives. And this is the last one.”

After nearly seven decades, there will be no more racing at Southland. Saturday’s 14-race card was the end.

Arkansas isn’t one of the 42 states that have banned greyhound racing. But other forms of gambling have taken its place.

Who needs greyhounds when you can bet on any sport you like from your phone, or when you can play slots or blackjack in the sleek new casino down the way?

“That’s the way of the world,” said Gail Culver, who has eight (yes, eight) retired greyhounds living with her these days. “But it’s sad. I almost didn’t come today. But I wanted to see these beautiful dogs run one more time.”

Live greyhound racing will be phased out at Southland

Saturday was a celebration, more than anything. A celebration of a time that was. The line for programs stretched on forever. The track handed out T-shirts and little bottles of “authentic track sand.”

“You can have as much sand as you want tomorrow,” said Vicki Cohen, who spent more than a decade leading the track’s adoption program.

That was the sort of gallows humor that ruled the day.

People told stories. So many stories. Of the days when Southland was a really big deal.

The track opened in 1956. Back then — indeed, up until casinos sprouted in Tunica — it was the only legal gambling for hundreds of miles.

“The cars would back up to the bridge from Memphis,” said Paul Cohen, Vicki’s husband, who trained dogs for many years.

“Jack Eaton would give the racing results on TV,” said David Williams, the longtime Commercial Appeal writer. “That’s how big it was.”

Ron Olson and Steve Conley — the radio guys — challenged a greyhound to a race one memorable night.

“It was a photo finish,” Olson said. “But we were given a head start. It was a great scene over there. They would have tens of thousands of people a night. It was the hard-workingman’s fun and good times.”

In 1992, the Tunica casinos opened. That drained away most of the crowds. In 2005, Arkansas voters approved the addition of “electronic games of skill” to Southland. That expanded to full-fledged casinos in 2018.

“We’ve known this day was coming,” said Rachelle Henry, who owns a kennel along with her husband, Darren. “We’ve had time to make other plans.”

Like?

“Our son and daughter own a dispensary in New Mexico,” she said.

Dogs are out; weed is in.

And, yes, there are surely animal welfare groups celebrating the end of greyhound racing at Southland. Those groups have documented various abuses at tracks across the country over the years.

But it was striking to see so many people involved with greyhound adoption at the track Saturday — and to hear about their experiences with the sport.

“These dogs love to run,” said Culver, the woman with eight adopted greyhounds. “They run with joy. Sure, years ago, there were some bad apples. But now 98 percent of the dogs get adopted out when they finish racing. They’re treated better than most pets.”

Williams once brought Rex, one of his adopted greyhounds, to a reunion event at the track.

“When Rex saw his old trainer, he went nuts,” Williams said. “They were so happy to see each other.”

Saturday, the greyhounds certainly seemed happy enough. It was the humans who shed the tears.

Robert Thorne got a job walking dogs at the track when he was 15.

“My mother worked as a greeter at the door,” he said. “I lied on my application. I said I was 16.”

That was more than four decades ago. Thorne, 62, became one of the most successful trainers at the track. His son, Tim, runs the kennel today.

Or did, until Saturday.

“This is all we ever knew,” Tim said.

What’s next?

“The landscaping business.”

That is how the afternoon unfolded. It wasn’t just a single business ending. It was a way of life.

As the races wound down, longtime trainers and employees were invited onto the track to pose for photos with the winners. Lillian Boatwright, 83, posed with the winner of the 12th race.

Boatwright has worked at the track for 40 years. She sold programs Saturday.

“You realize she came over on the Noah’s ark,” joked one of the trainers.

“No, she was part of the construction crew that built this place,” another said.

So what does Boatwright plan to do starting Sunday?

“Nothing at all,” she said.

Finally, it was time. Time for what the program dubbed the “Last Greyt Race.”

“This is the last minute to wager at Southland Greyhound Park,” said the track announcer.

And then the dogs sprinted off and into the past.

As it happens, the winner — Smile N Mean It — was named after a book about dealing with change.

“You have to smile and mean it,” said Mary Robinette, who owns the dog with her husband, Dave. “It’s fitting, I guess.”

The Robinettes met at a dog track, naturally. He was 18, she was 16.

“I had just started as a trainer,” he said.

“I got a job as a kennel assistant,” she said.

They married at the end of that racing season, 42 years ago.

So you can see why this one last win was bittersweet.

The Robinettes are going to start raising cattle, because you have to do something. But — how to say this? — a cow just isn’t a dog.

And what happens to Smile N Mean It, anyway?

“He’ll be off to West Virginia in the morning,” said Dave.

That’s the last state to have dog tracks. And it is down to two. Nearly all the dogs from Southland will be racing in West Virginia. And before long the racing will likely end there, as well.

So there was a feeling of wistfulness when this was over. About the inevitable changes that come with the passage of time.

As fans left the track, there was a printed sign, right next to the escalator.

“How to access the new casino complex,” is what it said.