People had begun gathering by the track gates just after dawn. By nine-thirty, the parking lot was already swollen with cars. Many people had driven across the nation to see the race; virtually every state in the union was represented by a license plate. They threw the gate open at ten. Five thousands fans gushed into the grandstand and clubhouse, staking out their territory with blankets and spring jackets."It looked," wrote Thoroughbred Record correspondent Barry Whitehead, "like the Oklahoma landrush." The fans found Santa Anita decked out in all its splendor. In the clubhouse and turf club, arches of acacias, columns of jonquils, and giant gardenias with fifteen hundred blossoms stretched overhead, white peat beds of irises, white primeroses, peach blossoms, and tulips lined the entire interior.
By ten-thirty, the grandstand was filled to capacity. By noon the parking lot couldn't fit another car, and the overflow spilled out onto the track's decorative lawns. A horse-loving priest from the church across the street opened his yard to let fans park there for free. Still the cars kept coming, snarling every local road for the entire day. Trains chugged up all afernoon; one of them, from San Francisco, had all seventeen cars filled to bursted with Seabiscuit fans. Up in the press box, reporters from all over the world arrived. Over the next few hours they would churn out half a million words on the Morse wires, Teletypes, and typewriters. The club-house roof and the top of the tote board were lined with newsreel cameras. In the luxury boxes, celebrities filed in: Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, Jack Benny, Sonja Henie, James Stewart, and Mervyn LeRoy. Bing Crosby had stayed up all night recording at Universal so he could have the day off, and came with Mrs. Bing, rooting for yet another hpeless long shot from their barn, Don Mike.
By midafternoon, seventy-eight thousand people had crammed into the track, more than ten thousand in the infield alone. It was officially the second-larged crowd ever to attend a horse race in America, but because the record tally, at the Kentucky Derby, was famously exaggerated, the attendance at this hundred-grander was undoubtedly the largest. Radios all over the world were tuned to the broadcast from Santa Anita. The town of Willits was at a standstill. Up in Flint, Michigan, Howard had arranged to have the loudspeakers in the Buick salesroom rigged to broadcast the race.
The afternoon ticked on. The race approached.
At home, Pollard made his final prerartions. Agnes strung a Saint Christopher medal onto a necklace and give it to him. He slipped it on under his shirt. Before he left, he promised Agnes that he'd bring her flowers from the winner's wreath.