WILLITS, Calif. — Few people in this scrappy former timber town nestled in the redwoods would disagree that the most famous citizen ever to hail from here was short-legged, knobby-kneed, somewhat scrawny and ill-tempered — a mud-colored underdog, not unlike Willits itself.
This is why, as a major motion picture based on the book "Seabiscuit: An American Legend" looms, the Willits Chamber of Commerce recently opened a boutique called "All Things Seabiscuit." Why the mayor has issued a proclamation temporarily changing the name of East Commercial Street to Seabiscuit Boulevard. Why the Baechtel Creek Inn & Spa is putting the finishing touches on a new "Seabiscuit Room," and why the Mendocino County Museum has installed an exhibit of Seabiscuit memorabilia, including his custom-made leather skullcap — so he wouldn't hit his head on the overhang of his private rail car — and a silver-plated horseshoe from the 1940 Santa Anita handicap on loan from Bob Hope.
Though the family of Charles S. Howard, the multimillionaire owner of the thoroughbred racehorse who captivated the nation in the late '30s, pulled up stakes here not long after Seabiscuit's death in 1947, the Seabiscuit connection still runs deep. It is on display at the Noyo Theatre and at O'Leary's Feed & Seed, where horse owners purchasing two doses of Ivercare horse dewormer get a free Seabiscuit cap.
But nowhere is Seabiscuit's spirit more deeply felt than at Ridgewood Ranch, a majestic 5,000 acres of otherworldly scenery tucked into the Coast Range, where under an oak tree that remains a secret the hallowed steed is buried.
In contrast to Charles Howard's day, when Bing Crosby lolled about the spring-fed swimming pool, the ranch is currently owned by the 35 or so members of Christ Church of the Golden Rule, a spiritual community of aging Christians and back-to-the-landers who have owned and tended Ridgewood since the early '60s.
Last year, after the publication of Laura Hillenbrand's best-selling book, the church, along with the Chamber of Commerce and the county museum, started offering "Home of Seabiscuit" walking tours, for which there are now over 400 people on the waiting list. "Guys call and get really emotional," said Lynn R. Kennelly, the chamber's executive director. "It's bizarre."
Although not technically a native — he was born at Claiborne Farm in Kentucky — Seabiscuit lived out a cushy retirement on the ranch. The world's richest horse, who set 12 records over six distances at eight different tracks, spent his final seven years siring "Little Biscuits" and being visited by thousands of fans, ensconced in the red clapboard Stud Barn that is now being restored by the Rotary Club of Willits.
More emotionally, perhaps, the ranch was where, in 1939, the critically injured horse and jockey Red Pollard came to heal. Shortly after defeating his archrival War Admiral at Pimlico, Seabiscuit ruptured the suspensory ligament in his left foreleg, sparking widespread doubts that he would ever race again. Pollard was recovering from a potentially crippling bone-shattering injury.
Seabiscuit and Pollard spent a year together on the ranch, being nursed back to health by Dr. Raymond "Doc" Babcock before going on to electrify the nation by winning the $100,000 Santa Anita Handicap that had twice eluded them. It was "Doc" Babcock — a beloved fixture in Willits — who tried in vain to save the life of Howard's 15 year-old son Frankie after a truck accident on the ranch.
Around Willits there are still plenty of old-timers who were delivered into the world by "Doc," whose evocative home movies of Seabiscuit and his era have recently been restored by the museum. Among them is Lee Persico, 69, a real estate agent who as a three-year-old, sat on Seabiscuit.
"Willits was always proud of Seabiscuit," he said. "But it fell through the cracks until the book brought out the notoriety."
George C. Atkins, 86, Babcock's son-in-law, recalls his father-in-law's descriptions of the racehorse. "The doctor said Seabiscuit was a very intelligent horse; you could almost tell what he was thinking." He added, "He's a good horse. He was the most talked about individual in Willits."
For Willits (pop. 5073), the Seabiscuit revival — ""a silver platter' in the words of Kennelly — comes at an opportune moment. Situated at "the gateway to the redwoods," as the nostalgic arch across the highway proclaims, the city has virtually not grown in the past decade. Once home to some 35 sawmills, the town is now down to one. In 1999, its median household income was $26,283, compared to $41,994 nationally.
So far the affluence that has blanketed Sonoma County to the south and the tourist areas along the coast of Mendocino County has yet to reach as far north as Willits.
To folks in Willits, where manure fleks the streets and feed stores coexist with hydroponic "grow stores" frequented by marijuana cultivators, Mendocino is the equivalent of War Admiral. "When tourists go to Mendocino, they spend the weekend at a B and B and buy pottery and polo shirts," said Dan Ripke, the director of the Center for Economic Development at California State University in Chico. "Willits is a pass-through where they buy gas and go to Burger King en route to dropping off the rental car in Portland, Oregon."
Tracy Livingston, 60, the ranch representative of Christ Church of the Golden Rule and chief tour guide, draws parallels between the national obsession with Seabiscuit in the 1930s and the horse's comeback in Hillenbrand's vivid prose. "Here we have uncertain times again," he said, walking toward the stud barn along Seabiscuit Drive. "We have war, and lots of displaced workers in Willits."
The church purchased the ranch, where the sun breaks preternaturally through the morning fog, in 1962.
And over the years, church members have been salvaging bits of history, patching up buildings and encountering horseshoes in the organic garden and yokes in the barns. "There was life left here," said Ellen Bartholomew, 43. "It's a trip when you live in a place with this much history. But then there's the burden of maintaining it."
The church is also working with the Mendocino Land Trust on a conservation easement for 4,600 acres of the rance, including 20 historic buildings.
The landscape a relatively unspoiled chunk of California where hawks seem to glide for hours — is much-changed since Seabiscuits' day, with modern cinderblock houses and a veritable ghost town of dilapidated farm buildings. Still, the aura remains.