В каньоне Голеда сохранилось имя доктора Роберта Винчестера, чья жизнь была посвящена медицине и службе общине

At the far west end of Goleta sits a canyon that looks like the Goleta of old. Somehow untouched by the all-powerful developers, agriculture is still the order of the day and wildlife abounds. So, how did this beautiful canyon get the name Winchester? Well, like so many things in Goleta, it’s all because of Colonel W.W. Hollister. When Hollister made his move down to Goleta, he brought a lot of influential people with him, and one of those people was his personal physician, Dr. Robert Fulton Winchester. Winchester was born in Maine in 1845 and at age 16 became the apprentice of a “horse and buggy” doctor. That was how a lot of early physicians got their start in medicine. When his mentor got called into service for the Union Army in the Civil War, Winchester volunteered and went with him. He worked on the battlefields and in tent hospitals, at his mentor’s side — a true trial by fire. Even under the most brutal and primitive conditions, young Winchester displayed a real knack for surgery and promised to be an excellent physician. After the war, he went to Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine, and graduated in 1867. The very next year, he moved to San Francisco to practice medicine in the wild and exciting west. When he opened his practice out west, the Gold Rush days were just settling down, but soon a smallpox epidemic broke out in nearby San Juan Bautista, and he volunteered his services there. At one point, he was in charge of 1,500 patients. He was so successful there that they made him Monterey County physician. That was when he first met Colonel Hollister, who was very impressed with the young doctor. Colonel Hollister was in the process of moving south to Goleta around 1870, and he was determined to make Winchester his personal physician. To entice the doctor to join him, he helped him buy 1,000 acres of choice Goleta real estate from the Den family, just west of Ellwood Cooper’s ranch. The good doctor took the bait, and he agreed to move south with Colonel Hollister in 1872 as his personal physician. The ranch life, however, was not Dr. Winchester’s style. He soon moved into Jose Lobero’s adobe in town and made that his office and his home. (Lobero was good friends with Hollister, and the colonel had also lived there while he built his precious Glen Annie ranch.) The same year that Winchester started his practice in town, Stearns Wharf opened and created an economic boom, bringing a wave of new people into the Santa Barbara area. It was good timing since Dr. Brinkerhoff was pretty much the only physician in town, and he was overwhelmed. So young Dr. Winchester immediately had more than enough patients to keep him busy, in addition to tending to the Hollister family. Before long, Dr. Winchester sold his ranch in Goleta to Colonel Hollister at a profit and bought a house in Santa Barbara. He got married to Miss Carrie Snow on Christmas Day, 1876. The next year, he had a niece born, and to mark the event, he planted a small Norfolk Island Star pine tree on the corner in front of his house. It would be quite a memorial indeed. Fast forward to 1912, and Winchester’s former home was demolished to make way for the beautiful new YMCA building at Carrillo and Chapala streets. Fortunately, they chose not to remove his pine tree, and it grew to new heights. By 1920, the city began putting lights on it for Christmas, and it became known as the “Tree of Light.” Today, it’s designated as a city landmark, and Dr. Winchester’s tree still gets decorated every year — all in memory of the birth of his niece (although the plaque says it was planted for his daughter). In 1885, Winchester’s most powerful patient, Colonel Hollister, accidentally ate strychnine that was used to poison gophers at his ranch. Dr. Winchester was able to save his life, but afterward, Hollister’s health continued to decline, mostly due to the stress of a prolonged legal battle. The following year, the man that brought Winchester to Goleta passed away. In 1896, Dr. Winchester leased offices at the brand-new Fithian Building, on the corner of State and Ortega streets. A prestigious location, it was the finest new “skyscraper” in town. In his more than 20 years in Santa Barbara, he had served as county coroner, county doctor and city health officer. His marriage, unfortunately, had lasted only a few short years, but everything else in Santa Barbara was going well. Dr. Winchester thought his war surgery days were long over, but in 1898, Colonel Hollister’s widow, Annie, had him rushed out to an army hospital in Virginia. Her youngest son, Stanley Hollister, was shot twice while fighting alongside Teddy Roosevelt in the Spanish-American War. Winchester saved Stanley from his gunshot wounds, but while he was healing, he died from typhoid fever. The young man’s body was returned to Goleta and buried beside his father. In 1918, a mysterious illness swept through Santa Barbara. Dr. Winchester was city health officer at the time, and people were dying at an alarming rate. One local doctor thought it was paratyphoid, but Winchester was not convinced. When the death toll hit 25 people in one week, citizens led by Pearl Chase insisted that Winchester bring in an expert from the State Health Department. This offended the good doctor, and he assured the group he could handle the situation, but the death toll continued to climb. Miss Chase was not content with Dr. Winchester’s refusal to call for expert help, so she staged a sit-down strike in the doctor’s office, insisting that he immediately send a telegram to Sacramento for help. She suspected that Dr. Winchester had become a morphine addict, a common problem for doctors of that era, and that sitting in his office would deprive him of his much-needed fix. For whatever reason, she succeeded, and the telegram was sent. When the expert from Sacramento arrived, he quickly traced it to a salmonella bacteria in contaminated city wells. The problem was addressed, and the epidemic was quickly ended. Doctors in those days often worked for free — not intentionally, but people very often just didn’t have the money to pay them. Winchester’s focus was on helping the sick and needy. He was noted for his energy and intelligence, and his fee was his last consideration. He was a valued member of the Santa Barbara community, active in both the Masons and the Odd Fellows. He was also one of the founders of the Odd Fellows Library, which later became the first city library. Winchester had lived in several homes around town, but when he retired, he moved to 412 W. Montecito St. with his sister, Charlotte Bagg. The house still exists and is a historic landmark called the Trussell-Winchester Adobe. Dr. Robert Winchester officially retired in 1925, but he continued to treat folks informally for the rest of his life. He was so respected that old patients continued to come to him for medical advice until he himself became too sick to help them. After a long illness, the doctor passed away at home in 1932 and was buried at the Santa Barbara Cemetery. More than just a doctor, he was a friend, counselor and medical adviser to hundreds of his fellow citizens. Winchester was one of the last of the “old time” family doctors who left his imprint on the lives of many. He was truly a lifelong public servant. While his impact was felt more in Santa Barbara, Dr. Winchester’s name is memorialized in the Goleta canyon he briefly owned, but chose not to live in.