There's No California Horse Story Without John Harris

There he stood, in all his chestnut glory. California Chrome, reigning winner of the Kentucky Derby (G1) and Preakness Stakes (G1) and future two-time Horse of the Year, was relaxing in a tree-lined paddock somewhere west of Fresno, Calif., in the state's vast San Joaquin Valley after the rigors of the 2014 Triple Crown. The surrounding countryside was brown with drought, and grazing grass was sparse. But 'Chrome paid it no mind. He had his shade, his hay, and his patch of rolling ground. And besides, this was where he was born and raised. This was home for the Thoroughbreds of Harris Farms. "Would you believe that," trainer Art Sherman said as he admired his colt. "The Kentucky Derby winner, out here in the middle of nowhere." Let's face it. Throughout its history, most of the California Thoroughbred industry could be found out there in the middle of some nowhere. With a good portion of the state's 163,696 square miles taken up by harsh deserts, remote valleys, and thickly forested mountains, horse breeders had to get creative, spend their money, and hope to get lucky. Many did. Swaps came out of Chino. Hill Rise from Madera. Best Pal from Ramona. Cavonnier from Sebastopol in wine country and Ancient Title from Beaumont. Google-map them at your leisure, all tiny dots on a variety of landscapes. Jack Harris and his son, John, didn't even have a dot, unless you count the little town of Coalinga to the southwest of the Harris spread, in the shadow of the Guijarral Hills, population about 6,000 when they built their first breeding and training facility in 1965. Their leg of nearby Interstate 5 was laid out but would not be open for a few years, and about all Coalinga was known for in those days was being near enough to the place where the Mexican bandit Joaquin Murrieta, called the Robin Hood of the West, was killed in 1853 by California Rangers. Over the decades they came and went, well-funded horse farms buffeted by the outsized California challenges of land, water, and population. Property either became too valuable or tragically worthless. Oil, gas, and agriculture imposed their heavy pressures. The Harrises raised beef, farmed the land, built a restaurant, then later a hotel, and grew the hay that fed their horses. More land was added to the east, on the doorstep of the Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks, where Harris foals grew strong in pastures along the King River before going to work down at the training center. When Jack Harris died in 1981, on his way home from a trip to Mexico, John took over and ran the Harris empire until his death July 3, 2025, just 11 days shy of his 82nd birthday. He outlasted them all. All the titans of various industries that put California breeding and racing on the map and kept it there for a long, long time: John Mabee of Golden Eagle, Marty Wygod of River Edge, Dr. Jim Buell of Rancho Jonata, Buddy Johnston of Old English Rancho, Lou Rowan of Summit Lake, Connie Ring of Three Rings Ranch, George Pope of El Peco Ranch, Allen Paulson of Brookside West, Bob and Barbara Walter of Vine Hill, Jerry Moss, Clement Hirsch, Mace Siegel, Ben and Georgia Ridder. There's not enough space to list the stakes winners who came off the Harris land, either raised there for clients—California Chrome and Tiznow head that list—or bred by Harris, sold by Harris, or raced by Harris under his green and white diamond-patterned silks, often in partnerships that put a wide variety of people in the winner's circle. Those colors were on glorious display at Churchill Downs in 1994 when Soviet Problem came within a head of winning the Breeders' Cup Sprint (G1). Los Gatos, a Harris foal of 1990, made a stakes splash for rookie trainer Carla Gaines to raise Kentucky Derby hopes in before an illness knocked him off the trail. Alphabet Kisses took the 2004 La Brea Stakes (G1) at odds of 20-1. "It was unlike John to take a shot like that when she would have been 7-5 in a smaller stakes up north," the filly's trainer, Marty Jones, said. "I'm glad he did." Big Jess, a foal of 1967, got things started in earnest on the Northern California fairs. Closing Remarks, foaled at Harris Farms 51 years later, gave her owner a grand last hurrah with a million in earnings and a collection of graded stakes trophies. Neither is there room to fully embrace the influence of Harris on the politics of California racing through the crucial years of the booming 1980s. State Senator Ken Maddy, a good friend, never presented a piece of horse racing legislation without first consulting Harris. The expansion of the racing calendar, breeding incentives and awards, off-track wagering and simulcasting—such issues relied on support from Harris to cross the finish line. By the same token, the Harris philanthropy supported equine veterinary research at University of California, Davis, his alma mater, and fostered agricultural programs at Fresno State University. His backing of the California Cup, along with partner Don Valpredo, put the event on a solid footing for years. The Fresno racing fairs, in his own backyard, were long-standing beneficiaries, right up to the moment just weeks before his death when Harris' efforts to bankroll a brief Fresno racing meet were rebuffed by the California Horse Racing Board. Some commissioners were skeptical that such a meet would be financially viable, which brought a classic reaction from breeder George Schmitt, who was Harris' partner in the plan. "If you are worried about what John Harris is worth, then I guess we have a bigger problem," Schmitt told the board. What John Harris was worth to California horse racing is immeasurable. "We lost a great guy," said Greg Gilchrist, who trained Soviet Problem and a host of other Harris horses. "It bothers me that he's gone, and I will miss him. He had respect for everyone and helped so many."