|
Dario Franchitti leads Helio Castroneves, Will Power, Alex Tagliani, Scott Dixon
and Ryan Briscoe through turn three during the early laps of the 94th
"Indianapolis 500" on May 30, 2010. |
I haven't missed the "Indianapolis 500" since my dad and I caught
a ride in a row boat, powered by an outboard motor, on May 30, 1956, with our
good neighbor Bill Davies, across the flooded yards and cornfields near our
house at 1729 East 77th Street, along the banks of White River on the north side
of Indianapolis. Spring and summer floods were a regular occurrence for us
"river rats" on East 77th Street in the 1950s.
Exactly one year before I attended my first "500," I found the
love of my life -- my soul mate -- "the greatest spectacle in racing." It's the
only love affair I ever had that is successful. My new love took wings the
previous summer after I listened to the 1955 "Indianapolis 500" on the radio. That
was the day the legendary Bill Vukovich, one of the most talented drivers to
ever compete at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, was killed in a violent four
car crash while leading and if not stopped by breakdown or accidents, would have certainly
been on his way to an unprecedented third consecutive "Indy" victory.
It's been reported the great Vuky was "partially decapitated" in
the horrific crash in which his number 4 Hopkins Special flipped end over end
countless times in front of horrified spectactors watching from the infield. Had
he not been killed instantly in the impact, Vukovich would have likely burnt to
death in the fire which erupted as the car came to a stop on the access road
running along the outside of the backstretch where the old white wooden Speedway
golf course maintenance shack was located.
There isn't a day that goes by when I do not think about the
previous "Indy 500," the next one or another May from the past. I am thinking
about the 100th anniversary of Ray Harroun's inaugural victory on May 30, 1911
which will take place on May 29, 2011, as I wrote these words.
It's January now with snow swirling around and frigid
temperatures making everyone in central Indiana as miserable as they were last
summer with daily highs well above ninety degrees. When I drive by the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway for whatever reason however, I warm to the reminder
of "Indy 500" memories and I start thinking about the next May to come.
|
Graham Rahal leads Will Power, Mike Conway, Marco Andretti, Alex Tagliani and
Alex Lloyd going through turn three during the 94th "Indianapolis 500" on May
30, 2010. |

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On May 30, 1956, neighbor Bill Davies transported Dad and I to
our car (a 1956 Ford station wagon) which was parked on a hill a few blocks from
our house. We drove to downtown Indianapolis and rode a shuttle train from Union
Station west on the railroad tracks that ran on an angle to where 16th Street,
Crawfordsville Road and Georgetown Road intersect across from the main gate at
the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
I looked out the window when the train arrived at the Speedway. I
caught sight of the grandstands on the south end of the track along 16th Street
and saw the racing flags flying in the stiff breezes blowing. The sky was
overcast early but as the day progressed, the sun shone and the temperature
reached 84.9 degrees in Indianapolis, according to the Old Farmer's Almanac.com
website.
Indianapolis was inundated with rain the week prior to the 1956 "500" and
for a few days, it was feared the race would be postponed because most of the
IMS grounds were under water. A magnificent effort by legendary Speedway superintendent
Clarence Cagle and his staff succeeded in making the track acceptable for racing
but as late as race morning, maintenance crews were sweeping water off the
bricks on the main straightaway.
I
was thrilled and overwhelmed as dad and I departed the train to join the
throng jamming into the IMS. This was my second trip to the Speedway. My first
visit came eleven days earlier on May 19 when Dad took me to IMS for pole
qualifying day. The crowds were huge that day but they were even larger on
race day. As we walked north towards our seats in Grandstand C halfway up the
main straightaway, I was caught in a mob of humanity.
Pat Flaherty, who won the pole on the previous day I was at the Speedway, was
victorious on May 30, 1956. The red haired Flaherty usually wore a green
shamrock on his white crash helmet and it was visible from my grandstand seat as
he flashed by lap after lap in the white and rose colored number 8 John Zink
Special, a radical machine for those times. The car was longer and lighter than
the other cars in the 1956 "Indianapolis 500" and it was the first
"Indy" roadster designed and built by
the legendary A.J. Watson.

Pat Flaherty was one of those racers who happened to find himself in the right
place at the right time. He was something of a racing journeyman with three
previous appearances at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway
(1950, 1953 and 1955).
Tenth place finishes in 1950
and 1955 were his best results.
Flaherty managed his tavern in Chicago. He heard about an opening on
the 1955 "500" winning John Zink team early in 1956 from a patron and applied for the ride.
1955 "Indy" winner Bob Sweikert
had accepted a more lucrative offer to drive the D.A. Lubricant Special. Flaherty
was picked to replace Sweikert and race the new car built by Watson over 1952
"500" winner Troy Ruttman, who was
entered in the other John Zink car, the same Kurtis Kraft 500D roadster Bob
Sweikert had driven to victory in the 1955 race.
Car owner Zink wanted to
put Ruttman in the new car but Watson insisted on Flaherty. Ruttman finished
31st in the 1956 race after spinning out on lap 22.
Pat Flaherty was the right man for the job with the right car on that day and
drove a masterful race. He played his cool during the first third of the race,
running at the front with Jim Rathmann, Pat O'Connor, Paul Russo, Johnnie
Parsons and Don Freeland. When the competition faded, Flaherty took command of
the race, leading the final 125 laps and winning the race by 20.46 seconds over
Sam Hanks.
I remember seeing Flaherty's white and rose number 8 coming through turn four so
fast during the 1956 "500," there were laps when the weight shifted to the right
rear while the car slid and the left front tire raised off the track surface.
Those old time Indy cars would drift through the four corners of the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway and that was fascinating to see.
Remember there was no downforce on those Indy roadsters and the only adhesion
the cars had were the four very narrow tires and the weight would shift around
from one corner to the other as centrifugal force forced the machines to the
right. In comparison to today's ground based rockets, the roadsters were brutes
to race and after 500 miles, the drivers were not only mentally exhausted as
they are today, but their bodies suffered from nearly four hours of physical
beating.
|
Pat Flaherty takes the checkered flag from starter Bill Vandewater after winning
the 1956 "Indianapolis 500" on May 30, 1956 at an average speed of 128.490 mph. |

Pat Flaherty celebrates in Victory Lane with his wife and a bottle of milk after
winning the 1956 "Indianapolis 500."
Note the cigarette dangling from the mouth of an Indianapolis Motor Speedway
safety patrolman and also look at the dirt and grime covering Flaherty. These
are two signs of those times.
The drivers sat high in the old front engine "Indy" roadsters. They took a
battering from the brick surface on the main straightaway at the Indianapolis
Motor Speedway, endured intense heat from the engine in front of them and were
covered with oil, rubber, steam and debris as they fought their cars with brute
strength -- always on the edge of adhesion with life threatening danger a
constant companion.
"Indianapolis 500" drivers in the 1950s were mostly tough guys. Many were World
War II veterans. Some paid for their addiction to speed and danger with their
lives.
1955 "Indy 500" winner Bob Sweikert was killed at Salem Speedway in southern
Indiana a few weeks after finishing sixth at the Speedway. Pat Flaherty was
gravely injured in August 1956 in a crash at Springfield, Illinois and did not
race in the "500" again until 1959.
In May 1956, tee shirts and cotton slacks were still accepted racing attire. If
you were sitting on the outside of the track, in the corners, it was
possible to see the driver's right arm bulging as they manhandled the heavy Indy
roadsters through the corners.
|

Although I was on top of the world after seeing my first "Indianapolis 500" on
May 30, 1956, I left the Indianapolis Motor Speedway disappointed. My earliest
racing hero Tony Bettenhausen started the race fifth in the beautiful navy blue
(with gold accents) Belanger Motors Special KK500D number 99. Navy blue is still my
favorite color today and that began with Tony Bettenhausen's Belanger 99 in
1956. Tony ran as high as second during the early laps but then drifted back
into a fight for fourth, fifth and sixth before blowing a tire (there were a lot
of tire problems in the 1956 "500"), hitting the wall off turn two on lap 160 to
break a collar bone and finish 22nd
The memories, created in May in central Indiana that surround the
"Indy 500" are much like those generated by Thanksgiving and Christmas holiday
seasons with family and friends. Memories are probably the best part of the
"Indianapolis 500" experience. These personal associations we share with all
those who have fallen in love with the big race are like gifts from the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway -- lifetime treasures. Each May is packaged with so
much history and tradition that it is nearly impossible to detach anything
significant that happens on the track from all the historic moments that have
come before. The "Indianapolis 500" takes the physical form of a huge coffee
table art book filled with vivid, colorful images, compelling stories and
personal associations. With each month of May, a new chapter is added to the
book and with that addition, comes a link to all that has come before.
|
Helio Castroneves makes the second of four qualification runs on May 22, 2010,
on the way to his fourth "Indianapolis 500" pole position. The other poles came
in 2003, 2007 and 2009. |

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Despite my disapopointment that Tony Bettenhausen did not win the
1956 race, I could hardly wait until May 30, 1957 and my second "Indy 500." It's
been that way ever since. There are hundreds of thousands of people who feel the
same way I do. We are those folks who live and breathe the "greatest spectacle
in racing" and the month of May. It's the center piece of our lives. We are the
hard core and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway can always count on our support.
We will always be at the Speedway on "500" race day and a lot of us will also be
at IMS most of the other times race cars are on the track at IMS in May.
This is longtime Indianapolis TV and radio broadcaster Bill Donella and his wife
at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway to watch practice for the 94th "Indianapolis
500" on Sunday May 16, 2010.
Since the 1960s, I have seen the Donnellas at the Speedway during "500"
practice, always sitting low in the bleachers behind the pits south of the
emtrance to Gasoline Alley.
Bill and Mrs, Donella are symbolic of the true "Indy 500" die hard fan who will
always be at the Speedway in May no matter what. There are hundreds of thousands
of us.
|

Indianapolis Motor Speedway historian Donald Davidson takes questions from fans at IMS on
opening day of practice for the 94th "Indianapolis 500" on Saturday May 15,
2010. Kevin Lee, of Indianapolis radio station WFNI AM 1070 and the IMS Radio
Network, another media favorite of local Indy car racing fans, looks on.
Donald Davidson visited the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the first time on
Friday May 15, 1964, the day before pole day qualifications. Davidson was a
movie theater projectionist in England by trade. He became interested in the
"Indianapolis 500" as a boy and memorized statistics about the event from books
and periodicals he collected. Davidson wrote Sid Collins, the chief announcer on
the IMS radio network before coming to Indianapolis, and was invited to appear
on radio coverage of "500" qualifications a couple days after he arrived. I was at the Speedway
the day Donald Davidson (May 15, 1964) made his first visit and I
introduced myself to him. I was a junior at Carmel High School. I looked on as
the young Englishman charmed both racers and fans with his recall of
"Indianapolis 500" statistics.
Davidson was an instant hit at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway with his
photographic memory for "Indy 500" trivia. Although he returned to England after
the 1964 race, he was back in Indianapolis the following May for good. Sid
Collins took Davidson under his wing and not only added Donald to the
Indianapolis Radio Network broadcast team for the "Indianapolis 500" but also
brought him to Indianapolis radio station WIBC in May to do "500" related
programming.
Davidson found full time employment as statistician for the United States Auto
Club which sanctioned Indy car racing then and expanded his radio work in May.
In the years since, Donald Davidson has become a popular and beloved "Indy 500"
icon in the much same way as Sid Collins and long time IMS public address
announcer Tom Carnegie, as a result of his personal appearances, books,
newspaper articles, radio programs and college credit classes on "500" history.
He became the historian for the Indianapolis Motor Speedway several years ago.
In May 2010, he was inducted into the "Indianapolis 500" Hall of Fame, an honor
that was much deserved.
Donald Davidson is as much an ambassador for the "Indianapolis 500" as any
racing competitor year after year. His inclusion in the "500" Hall of Fame is an
excellent choice.
|

Unfortunately there are also negatives and they are troubling for
those like me who love the "500" and the Indy car series.
What most concerns me is that after more than three decades of often spectacular
and constant growth, beginning with the years of the rear engine revolution and
turbine powered race cars in the 1960s, extending through the 1970s when Indy
cars grew wings and speeds increased thirty miles per hour from one end of the
decade to the other, continuing into the 1980s when fathers raced against their
sons and a new generation of stars competed with long time legends for
supremacy, through the first half of the 1990s, when long held resentments
finally came to all out conflict between CART and the Indianapolis Motor
Speedway, is the realization the "Indianapolis 500" is not as powerful as it
once was.
No doubt about it, the "500" is still the largest single day sporting event in
the world. The generally accepted crowd estimate was 250,000 people at the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway on May 30, 2010 for the 94th "Indy 500." The race
remains the "greatest spectacle in racing" and attendance continues to be the
largest crowd in racing although the 300,000 fans who visited Circuit Gilles
Villenueve, in Montreal, over the three day Formula One weekend last June surely
caught the attention of IMS management. If it didn't, it should have and the
crowd at Silverstone for Grand Prix weekend should have drawn notice as well.
It was very disappointing to see large blocks of visibly empty
seats, not only the north end of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, as has been
the situation in recent years, but also on the main straightaway and at the
south end of the 2.5 mile oval too. There were more open spaces in the
grandstands than I have seen in my 54 years of attending the race, with the
exception of races run after rain delays such as 1967, 1973 and 1997. Even the
1986 "500," which was run six days late due to rain, had a larger crowd than
those who attended this year's race under 90 degree temperatures and
blazing Indiana sunshine on May 30, 2010.
May 30, 2010


To be fair, there was ten plus percent unemployment in Indiana
last May and ten percent nationally and if you count the numbers accurately and
include people who have given up looking for work, the national unemployment
figure would be 18 to 20 percent. That's getting close to the jobless figures
during the Great Depression in the 1930s. Folks are hurting everywhere and are
watching their money closer than ever. The nation recently repudiated President
Obama's economic policies severely in the 2010 mid term elections. Me too. Go
Tea Party! I have never been what you would call thrifty but I watch my money
close these days like most everyone else -- very close. These are hard times for
many people.
Therefore it is understandable IMS would sell fewer tickets
during a time of such economic decline and uncertainty for the future. I cannot
provide numbers but crowds were lower at the Speedway in the 1930s too. It is
disappointing to see the sharp drop in attendance from the crowd for the 2009
"Indy 500" regardless. Race attendance for the 2009 "500" was the largest since
2002, which was the most recent year the Indianapolis Motor Speedway announced a
sellout for the "500."
I was hoping the huge crowd at the Speedway on May 24, 2009 was a trend, a
signal that the "Indianapolis 500" was on the way back to the popularity and the
prestige that marked the event in the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s and first half of the
1990s. I forgot to factor in the effect such hard times would have on the
"greatest spectacle in racing" since I had not seen this kind of impact on "500"
race day before - regardless of national economic conditions.
There were observations the infield spectator mounds from turn
two down the backstretch were packed with more people than usual on race day.
That would indicate people still wanted to be at the race but they needed to do
so for the cost of general admission rather than the higher cost for a reserved
seat. The infield area inside turn three, across from where I was located in the
North Vista, did not look nearly as crowded as the previous year to me however.
There were a lot of people but not nearly as many as on May 24, 2009.
May 30, 2010

The economy had to play a leading role in the drop off in
attendance for the "500." When people have to choose between feeding a family
and paying a mortgage or spending money on entertainment, when future employment
is in question, it's understandable what they are going to select.
Despite the fact I was fortunate enough to be at the Speedway all
ten days there were cars on track (including race day) and thoroughly enjoyed
each one of the ten, the most vivid image I will retain in memory of May 2010
will be all those empty grandstand seats around the track on race day.
|
Scott Dixon waits to practice for the 94th "Indianapolis 500" on Sunday May 16,
2010. |

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The smaller race day crowd had an immediate effect. The total
purse paid at the winner's banquet on May 31 was $13,592,815, with winner Dario
Franchitti receiving $2,752,055. That is a five percent drop from the payout for
the 2009 "500" (14,315,315) and even more of a drop than the all time record
"Indianapolis 500" prize of $14,406,580 paid in 2008. Franchitti received a
winner's share of $2,752,055 which represents nearly a ten percent reduction
from the all time winner's purse of $3,048,005 paid to Helio Castroneves for his
2009 "Indy" victory.
|
Dario Franchitti catches a ride in the pits at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway
on Sunday May 23, 2010. |

It is little consolation that NASCAR cut the purses at all their
races by ten per cent in 2010, nor that attendance for nearly every Sprint Cup
event was about sixty percent of what it was a few years ago. It doesn't make
much difference to Indy car racing that revenue for the France family
International Speedway Corporation was off by nineteen percent for 2010 except
it made ISC tracks less likely to pay Indy car sanctioning fees and there won't
be any ISC tracks on the 2011 schedule.
The huge NASCAR buzz that exploded when Dale Earnhardt was killed
in the 2001 "Daytona 500" lost much of its intensity in the past three or four
years. The
2010 "Brickyard 400" only attracted 140,000 (maybe) spectators on July 25, 2010
at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Dover Downs only offered one half of the
100,000 seats at the facility for sale for their fall Cup race, which is one of
the NASCAR Sprint Cup chase events. Even the night race at Bristol in August,
where waiting lines for tickets have been in existence for twenty years, was not
at capacity this time. There are an ever increasing number of Cup cars running
without the big time sponsorship seen at NASCAR events a few years ago. Even
Jeff Gordon, arguably the most famous NASCAR driver, had problems securing a new
full time sponsor to replace Dupont for 2011. Wal Mart declined a pitch from
Rick Hendrick. There are four or five "start and park" entries that have no
intention of running many laps in the race at each Cup event. These are racing
operations who are running their business from the bottom purses paid at
individual Sprint Cup races.
Unfortunately the NASCAR downturn has not translated into an
upturn for Indy car racing. The "Indianapolis 500" has always been a bigger deal
than any single Cup event including the "Daytona 500" even if the
France family wants to argue that point. The other events on the Indy car
schedule, other than the "Indy 500," pale in comparison to NASCAR races in
general in terms of attendance and TV ratings however. Therefore although
NASCAR's numbers have become considerably smaller from what they were not that
long ago, they are still substantially larger than Indy car racing numbers by
comparison.
What makes the numbers even more disappointing is that attendance
at all Indy car events on ovals, except Indianapolis, Texas, Iowa and Twin Ring
Motegi in Japan, were terrible this season and only Motegi actually saw an
actual increase in attendance. I was embarrassed at the number of fans for the
Indy car races at Chicagoland and Kentucky. I went to each of the ten events at
Chicagoland and to all the Kentucky races except for 2002 and 2009. The fan
count was the lowest ever at both venues this time. It is too bad. There were so
few people at the Indy car finale at Homestead-Miami, the TV cameras actually
avoided showing the grandstands and when a quick glimpse of the fans came into
view, it made me wince to see the seats at least 90 percent empty.
from IBJ.com - June 1, 2010.
The overnight Nielsen TV ratings are in for this year’s Indianapolis 500 … and
the news isn’t great.
The race, which aired on ABC (WRTV-TV Channel 6) on Sunday, earned a 3.68
rating, according to New York-based Nielsen Media Research. Each rating point
represents 1.1 million homes nationwide, meaning just over 4 million households
across the U.S. tuned to this year’s race.
This year’s national rating was down from a 3.96 last year, or about 4.36
million TV households.
In the central Indiana market, the race predictably scored much higher, earning
a 12.2 rating. Locally, each rating point equals 10,720 TV central Indiana
households, meaning 130,784 tuned in. That means 22 percent of all TV households
in this market watched the race (which is tape delayed here).
The local numbers too were down, from a 14.6 rating in 2009 and a 26 percent
audience share.
The Indianapolis 500 Victory Banquet, televised locally on WTHR-TV Channel 13
the night after the race, also saw a rating drop from 12.1 in 2009 to 8.0 this
year. WRTV officials think part of this year’s drop can be attributed to a 2009
rating spike in Indy 500 programming.
Helio Castroneves’ victory, WRTV officials said, was particularly captivating,
given his recent success on Dancing With the Stars and the press coverage
surrounding a federal tax evasion investigation centering on the IndyCar driver
and his sister.
This year's TV ratings for the IndyCar Series has new CEO Randy Bernard's
attention, sources said, and he is working hard to improve them. More on that in
the next day or two. |
If the lower crowd count for the 94th "500" can almost be
justified because of a terrible economy, the terrible TV ratings cannot. That
only four million viewers tuned into the ABC telecast of the "500" is
discouraging. It's true the ABC "Indy" coverage seems to get worse each May but
all people have to do is turn on their high definition wall size flat panels and
watch the race. It was the worst network audience for the "Indianapolis 500"
since ABC first presented the race live in 1986. That is bad news. It either
reflects nationwide apathy or shows the "Indianapolis 500" has essentially
fallen off the American radar screen -- or both.
It makes me recall how Tony Hulman resisted televising the "Indy
500" live. Mr. Hulman always worried TV would cut into ticket sales and was
reluctant to take the plunge despite receiving lucrative offers over the years.
One of the more interesting bits of information to become public
in May was the comment by Indianapolis Motor Speedway CEO Jeff Belksus that a
primary reason for not allowing the live telecast on Indianapolis TV was because
seventy percent of "Indianapolis 500" tickets are purchased by residents of
central Indiana. To me that is a significant piece of knowledge. What it says is
the primary audience for the "Indy 500" comes from the area encompassing
metropolitan Indianapolis and surrounding Indiana counties.
What it also suggests is that Indy car racing has returned to the
status of a niche sport for all intents and purposes. The "Indianapolis 500" is
once again a regional event, not unlike the way things were in 1956 when I
attended my first "500."
|
Danica Patrick signs autographs for fans at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on
Sunday May 16, 2010. |

How many people attended my first "Indianapolis 500" in 1956?
Maybe 200,000 people. I don't really know. What I do know is the "Indy 500" was
the biggest event in the state of Indiana each year. Indianapolis was the 24th
or 25th largest city in the U.S. with a population around 450,000. There wasn't
a lot going on around here in those days; three huge events - the four week
IHSAA boys high school basketball tournament in February and March,
qualifications for the "Indy 500" and race day on May 30.
There were no Indianapolis Colts to command the community's
attention from September through January and sometimes longer. We weren't
hosting the Super Bowl yet. Actually the Super Bowl was not played until January
1967. We did not have the NCAA Final Four every few years. For that matter the
NCAA wasn't a big deal in the 1950s anyway. Neither was the NBA and the Indiana
Pacers were a distant dream -- or nightmare as happenings in recent years
suggest.
Indianapolis was
a second tier city, more near major then major. It was a center of
manufacturing surrounded by agriculture. Had circumstances been different,
Indianapolis might have become the motor city rather than Detroit, but history
did not evolve that way. Perhaps the leading asset Indianapolis enjoyed was that
it was centrally located where the Old National Road U.S. Highway 40 intersected
with U.S. Highway 31 at the corner of Washington and Meridian Streets. The
populace was a mixture of settlers moving westward during the previous century,
Irish and German immigrants, and southerners of both races who came north
looking for employment opportunities.
Nationwide, auto racing was a minor league sport when compared to
major league baseball, the big boxing title fights or top notch college
football. In those days college football was more popular than the National
Football League, which had yet to captivate the nation as it did beginning in
the 1970s. There was no network TV coverage for the "500."
The "500" race highlights were featured on the newsreels shown at local
movie theaters. Across the country, there were millions who tuned into the
"Indianapolis 500" radio broadcast to listen to Sid Collins call the race while
they did chores or had holiday picnics. That was likely the only connection most
of the rest of America had with the "greatest spectacle in racing." After the
race, those listeners probably did not think about auto racing again until the
following Memorial day when they listened to another "500" broadcast.
The exception was the 1955 "500" when two time winner Bill
Vukovich was killed in a four car crash while leading. The death of the
legendary driver from Fresno, California plastered the story on newspaper front
pages across the U.S. Photo footage of Vukovich's violent and deadly crash made
Life magazine, which at that time was the most popular magazine in America. Most
years however, the "Indianapolis 500" passed without much notice from anywhere
outside Indiana.
Interestingly, on the evening of May 30, 1956, Pat Flaherty
appeared on the popular nationwide, network TV program "I've Got a Secret," that
was hosted by popular early TV personality Garry Moore. During Flaherty's appearance, celebrity panelists tried
to guess his secret, which was he had won the "Indy 500" that day, from hints
the racer provided. None of the panelists guessed who Flaherty was. Even after
his identity was revealed, the celebrities on the panel showed little
recognition what the new "Indy" winner had accomplished. That is how it was in May
1956.
However in Indiana, the "500" was everywhere. When you drove
through many Hoosier towns in May, such as Crawfordsville, which is an hour
northwest of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, there was a large banner
stretching across main street, proclaiming the Memorial Day classic was set to
run again on May 30. The race was pervasive. If a Hoosier did not go to the
"500," they went to qualifications, listened to Sid Collins on the radio or at
the very least followed the happenings at the Speedway in three Indianapolis
daily newspapers.
The "Indy 500" was a cherished Hoosier treasure during the 1950s
but the race did not have a large national audience. The event began to
transform from a regional classic to a national major league enterprise, with a
brand and identify as familiar as all but major league baseball and the National
Foorball League, during the decade of the sixties.
The extreme rise in national popularity and prestige for the
"Indianapolis 500" began with the rear engine revolution that started in 1961
when 1959 - 1960 World Champion Jack Brabham, of Australia, brought a modified
version of his Grand Prix winning Cooper - Climax to the Indianapolis Motor
Speedway and finished ninth in the 1961 "Indy 500."
When Scotland's Jim Clark, the runner up for the 1962 World
title, finished second in the 1963 "500" in a rear engine Lotus - Ford and led
28 laps near the halfway point of the race, the move to European Grand Prix
style racing cars began in earnest.
There were four rear engine cars in the starting field for the
1963 race. By 1965, there were only six cars in the starting field for the 1965
"500" with engines mounted in front of the driver. By 1969, the legendary front
engine Indy roadster had been eliminated from "Indianapolis 500" competition
altogether. Therefore over the period of nine years, the design of the Indy
racing car changed completely. It was the most remarkable transformation in
American racing history.
Do a quick comparison to the present day. The same cars and
engines have been racing in the "Indianapolis 500" since 2003. Think about this!
How much have Formula One race cars changed in physical appearance since the mid
1990s when the upturned nose section came into fashion? Under the skin they have
changed dramatically but to the casual untrained eye, there isn't much
difference in the shape and characteristics. In the 1960s, racing cars changed
as completely as they could with horsepower pushing the car rather than pulling
it. The size of the rear engine racing machine reduced by one third the
dimensions of the Indy roadster. The approach to driving the new cars differed
radically from the traditional race car at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
Dan Gurney made his debut at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in
1962. Although Gurney took his rookie test at the wheel of a traditional
roadster, entered by the same John Zink who owned the "500" winning cars driven
in 1955 by Bob Sweikert and in 1956 by Pat Flaherty, he qualified a new rear
engine creation powered by an aluminum Buick V8 that was designed and entered by
hot rod legend Mickey Thompson. Gurney was talking to Ford Motor Company about
making a competitive return to the "Indianapolis 500" for the first time since
the 1930s. Dan felt that Colin Chapman's Team Lotus would be the perfect partner
for Ford in its Indianapolis assault. He paid for Chapman's flight to
Indianapolis to watch the race in an attempt to interest the creator of the
Lotus racing cars.
Indy car racing design followed the evolution of Grand Prix
Formula One racing cars by four or five years. Although Colin Chapman did not
invent the modern rear engine racing car, he did perfect the breed with the
monocoque chassis. In years to come however, such concepts as the stress member
chassis, the wedge shape, side mounted radiators and ground effects were
introduced by Colin Chapman on his Lotuses and became the standard for race car
design.
Colin Chapman first entered Grand Prix competition with front
engine Lotus entries in 1958 but switched to the Lotus 18 rear engine car for
1960. The initial Grand Prix victory by a Lotus came at Monaco in 1960 with
Stirling Moss driving a new Lotus 18 - Climax entered by Rob Walker. The
following season Moss drove a Walker Lotus 18 to victory at Monaco and won again
at Nurburgring in another Rob Walker prepared Lotus 18 with many pieces from the
new Lotus 21 fitted on the car. The first World Championship victory for Team
Lotus came in October at Watkins Glen with Innes Ireland at the wheel of a Lotus
21.
Chapman signed Jim Clark to drive for Team Lotus in 1960 and the
young Scotsman did his first full Formula One season in 1961, producing
promising results. Clark began winning World Championship Grand Prix events with
a victory on June 17, 1962 at Spa Francorchamps in Belgium and in my personal
opinion, the greatest racing career of all time began in earnest.
Clark won again at Silverstone and Watkins Glen and the 1962
World Championship came down to the final race of the season on December 29 in
South Africa. If Clark won the race, the title would be his. Jim dominated,
leading on lap 62, twenty laps from the finish, when he had to pit for an oil
leak, thus handing the race victory and the 1962 World title to Graham Hill. Few
doubted that Clark could be stopped for the championship in 1963 however.
During summer 1962 an agreement was reached between Ford and
Lotus, an association which lasted nearly twenty years, to join together to
compete in the 1963 "Indianapolis 500." In October, a few days after winning the
Grand Prix of the United States, at Watkins Glen, Colin Chapman, Jim Clark and a
handful of Team Lotus crew members came to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, to
test at the 2.5 mile oval with Clark's U.S. Grand Prix winning F1 Lotus 25 -
Climax. Within a few laps, Clark reached 144 - 145 mph, almost fast enough to
have qualified for the 1962 "Indy 500" despite the fact the Climax engine
powering the Lotus had much less horsepower than the standard Offy four cylinder
power used primarily in front engine Indy cars.
Having an entry that caught the attention of the motoring and
sporting press for the 1963 "Indianapolis 500" brought more focus to the
Speedway in May 1963 than usual. That Ford Motor Company was officially
participating in the "500" alone was big news but the fact that the cars were
running competitively with the traditional Offy roadsters brought people curious
about the new cars to watch practice in May in unprecedented numbers.
In previous years there were two and sometimes three weeks
of practice from opening day May 1 to the start of qualifications and activity
unfolded at a leisurely pace. Sometimes there wasn't a lot to see as there were
days early in the month when only three or four cars would take to the track.
After the Lotus - Fords arrived in 1963, people began to anticipate that this
might be the shape of the future and came to see what was going on -- perhaps
not unlike the curious farmers and folks from rural Indiana who came to IMS in
the early years to watch the new phenomenon, the automobile, engage in high
speed competition around the 2.5 miles of the old "Brickyard."
Ford Motor Company, under the direction of Lee Iaccoca, who
introduced the Ford Mustang to the American public the following year, developed
a V8 engine specially designed for the "Indianapolis 500." This was Ford's
answer to the venerable Offenhauser power plant which dominated at the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway since 1947. The new engine was not ready for the
1963 "500." Colin Chapman and Ford officials decided on a modified version of
the Ford Fairlane production V8 for 1963. Chapman reasoned that even though the
production based Ford V8 gave away a large horsepower advantage to the Offy, by
using twin Webber carburetors and high octane pump gasoline rather than the
methanol racing blend which powered the Offy, better fuel mileage combined with
the maneuverability of the Lotus would be a superior package. That decision
almost proved to be correct in May 1963.
Jim Clark finished
second to Parnelli Jones in the 1963 "500," and likely would have won the race
had USAC officials followed their own rules and black flagged Parnelli's number
98 Agajanian Special for throwing oil. It created a stir in the media and
caused more attention by the general public than usual for the "Indianapolis
500."
After leaving Indianapolis as the new stars of Indy car racing,
Jim Clark and Colin Chapman returned to Europe and the Grand Prix circuit. They
followed up their "Indianapolis 500" accomplishments with seven victories in the
nine remaining Grand Prix events and the "Flying Scot" won the World
Championship. Then to add to his American fame, Clark's Lotus - Ford led from
flag to flag in the 200 mile Indy car race in August at Milwaukee, lapping all
but second place A.J. Foyt. The suspicions that Clark and his Lotus - Ford had
raised at Indianapolis in May were confirmed on the Milwaukee Mile in August.
The front engine roadster was a dinosaur and the Grand Prix style rear engine
racer was coming on fast.
It was an exciting time; change unprecedented in the annals of
racing. The cars and the stars of "Indy" were transforming right before our
eyes. I am so glad I got to see it first hand even if the price is being sixty
four today and a lonely existence because I am not sure exactly where I fit in
the current scheme of society.
The "Indy 500" took a big leap in the collective consciousness of
the American public from 1962 to 1963. The success of Team Lotus, Ford Motor
Company and Jim Clark coincided with other new companies getting involved with the
"Indianapolis 500." Goodyear decided to challenge Firestone's "500" supremacy
and began testing with A.J. Foyt in 1963 and announced its intention to enter
the 1964 race. MCA, a big name in entertainment and communication at that time,
signed to telecast the 1964 "Indianapolis 500" to closed circuit audiences
across the nation.
|
Jim Clark, Benson Ford and Lee Iaccoca examine the new specially built Ford DOHC
V8 racing engine at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in May 1964. |

|
courtesy - Ford Motor Company |
May 1964 at Indianapolis saw Goodyear tires on several
cars including the Watson Offy roadster driven by A.J. Foyt, the 1961 "500"
winner and three time Indy car champion. A few days before the start of
qualifications however, Firestone brought a new tire that was three to four
miles per hour faster than Goodyear's best and Foyt and the other Goodyear
drivers quickly switched to Firestones.
The innovation at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in May 1964 was
not limited to rear engine cars. The British firm Ferguson Research produced a
four wheel drive front engine chassis to be powered by the legendary Novi V8
engine for Andy Granatelli and STP with Bobby Unser as the driver. Smokey Yunick
brought a strange creation with the cockpit in a capsule mounted alongside the
actual race car and outside the wheels. Unser qualified well for the "500" but
Yunick's car, driven by NASCAR veteran Bobby Johns, was not fast enough to make
the field and crashed on the final day of qualifications.
The Mickey Thompson cars were heavily modified versions of
the two Chevy V8 stock block powered cars that raced in the 1963 "500." Thompson
added body work at the front and side of the cars that surrounded the four Sears
Allstate tires. As a result, the Thompson cars were like a vision of the future
with features not seen since. In that respect, the Thompson entries was the
Delta Wing concept car of its day, although unlike the narrow front track of the
Delta Wing, Mickey Thompson's 1964 Indy cars were more wide than any cars to
ever race at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
|
1998 "Indianapolis 500" winner Eddie Cheever stands by the full size model of
the Delta Wing concept car on display at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on
Sunday May 23, 2010. I wonder who that little girl clutching Cheever is. |

Parnelli Jones broke the one minute 150 mph barrier at the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway with a lap at 150.729 mph on May 12, 1962. The rear
engine cars and the tire war between Firestone, Goodyear, Sears Allstate on the
Mickey Thompson cars and Dunlop on the Clark and Gurney Lotus - Fords all
combined to raise the speeds to unbelievable highs in May 1964. Jim Clark's one
lap track record of 159.377 mph on pole day May 16 was more than seven miles per
hour faster than the previous record of 151.847 mph that was set by Parnelli
Jones in 1963. That represented the largest jump in speed in
Indianapolis Motor Speedway history to that time.
On pole qualifying day, fifteen (of 16) cars beat Parnelli's four
lap record of 151.153 mph, set in 1963. A total 29 cars in the 1964 starting
field were faster than the previous four lap mark. It was incredible! In
addition to the blazing speeds, there was the classic struggle of old versus
new. Clark, Bobby Marshman and Rodger Ward filled the front row of the grid with
Ford powered rear engine cars. Dan Gurney, in the other Lotus - Ford, qualified
sixth. In between the four fastest Fords were two traditional Watson roadsters
with Offy power, driven by the top Indy car stars of the day, Parnelli Jones and
A.J. Foyt.
Jim Clark after qualifying for the pole for the "Indianapolis 500" on May 16,
1964. Clark set new one lap (159.377 mph) and four lap records (158.828 mph) in
capturing pole position.
What is interesting is that Clark's busy schedule in May 1964 kept him away from
the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for most of the time. As defending World
Champion, Clark had two championship F1 races in Europe during the month; the
Grand Prix of Monaco on May 10 and the Grand Prix of Holland which he won on May
24. Clark only had 35 complete laps of practice in his Lotus 34 - Ford Indy car
before qualifying day. |

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
Sports Illustrated
- May 25, 1964
Fast Fords And A Great Scot
by Bob Ottum
For undiluted Americana, the May festivities at Indianapolis culminating in the
500-mile race top anything else by a whoop and a holler and a good many miles
per hour. People eat fried chicken and soak up the Indiana sun, and out on the
Speedway the traditional Offenhauser cars thrum out as fine a noise as The Music
Man's 76 trombones.
Last Saturday, as qualifying trials for this year's "500" began, Americana
seemed to be in full spring flower. With the happy commotion of a family
reunion, a fantastic, record-breaking crowd of 225,000 midwestern Americans
jammed the grandstands and ebbed and flowed in the infield. A gathering of that
magnitude roughly corresponds to filling New York's Madison Square Garden for a
heavyweight championship fight weigh-in.
So far, so good. But as the spectators turned their eyes to the track it was
obvious that something was out of joint in Indiana. There were the good old
front-engined Offies, all right, but they were nearly lost in the parade of new
rear-engined cars: Lotus-Fords and Fords with American chassis, rear-engined
Offies, even an Offy in a British chassis put together, for heaven's sake, by an
Australian, Jack Brabham. Beyond that, a splendid old Indy Novi showed up with
British four-wheel drive.
When the last car came home at sundown of a day of upheaval, British Lotuses
with sensational new American Ford overhead camshaft engines had shattered all
speed records and seized three of the first six starting positions in the 33-car
Memorial Day field. An all-American Ford was right up there, too. On the pole
sat Jimmy Clark with a stupendous 10-mile qualifying average of 158.828 mph, and
as he was told his speed a triumphant grin spread over his sometimes dour Scots
face. It was mirrored on the faces of that Limey bloke, Colin Chapman, builder
of the Lotuses, and Ford Vice President Benson Ford.
Filling out the front row of three Ford-engined racers were Pennsylvania's frail
leadfoot, Bobby Marshman, in a 1963 Lotus-Ford (fitted with the new engine) and
Indiana's Rodger Ward, twice winner of the "500," in a new Ford created by A.J.
Watson. Watson used to fret when early spotters of the rear-engine trend took to
calling his Offies "dinosaurs." After all, his traditional models were to win
five "500s," including last year's. He stopped fretting, though, and started
putting his own engines behind the driver. Last of the great dinosaur-builders,
he is evidently the first superior American fabricator of rear-engined Indy
designs. No other native craftsman was within miles of him last weekend.
Orthodox Indianapolis men who take their racing with deadly seriousness were
twice jolted, first by the ease with which the Fords suppressed the opposition,
and then by the sudden appearance all over the infield of "Dan Gurney for
President" lapel buttons and bumper stickers. Gurney, a superb American Grand
Prix driver, has never had much appeal for the Offenhauser vote. It was Gurney
who first induced Chapman and Ford to collaborate on Indianapolis cars, and
everyone remembers how close the one driven by Clark last year came to winning.
Last week Gurney himself outsped most of the Offymen to qualify sixth.
The pair he did not beat were the roughest, toughest traditionalists on the
grounds, A.J. Foyt and Parnelli Jones. Jones qualified fourth at 155.099 mph in
an ultralightweight Offy built by his chief mechanic John Pouelsen. Foyt, the
1961 winner, took the next place, averaging 154.672, in a similar and similarly
slimmed down Watson.
Thus Foyt and Jones enter the "500" carrying the greatest promise and heaviest
responsibilities for what is clearly a last-ditch stand for the old-style Offy.
It appears unlikely that any other front-engined models can give the Fords a
fight. And both men will battle fiercely—Jones because some people thought he
won unfairly last year, that he should have been black-flagged for spilling oil
and slicking the track in the closing laps, Foyt because he is the kind of man
who believes that he can win any race, no matter how hopeless his chances may
seem, and will never give up.
But last week it was difficult to see beyond the Fords. For one thing, there
were so many Ford people around. Benson Ford sat in the stands with his fingers
crossed. Lee Iacocca, Ford Division general manager, prowled the throng, shaking
hands and, as the returns came in, accepting congratulations. "We are," he said,
"in racing to stay." Ford engineers and publicity men were out in regimental
strength.
Ford strength on the track was evident long before the 11 o'clock starting gun
for qualifying. Bobby Marshman slipped out on the track early in the car which
Gurney had wrecked on opening day 1963, and warmed it up at 160.085 mph. It was
a speed everyone had said would come sooner or later, but that kind of thing has
considerable shock effect. The official one-lap qualifying record at the moment
was 151.847. "He did it in ... what?" choked one driver over his coffee and
doughnuts in the cafeteria under the grandstands. "Isn't that just great! Yeah,
great. This is liable to turn into one hell of a day."
But for Foyt and Jones it began badly. First man to shoot for the pole position,
Foyt wheeled in after four unsatisfactory laps around the track, fuming over
what he diagnosed as chassis problems. Jones made one turn and brought his car
back, also unqualified. "I think I blew a piston," he growled, and slammed his
garage door to further questions.
Then, with the crowd roaring and tossing paper picnic plates in the air, the
Fords poured it on. Clark was a big surprise last year, but now the spectators
were on to the Scot. Buttoned into the low-slung Lotus (the cars are tailored as
tightly around the driver as a suit with a belt in the back), Jim hit 158.339
miles an hour on his first lap, tuning in Indiana on the racing sound of the
future: the high-pitched scream of a rear-mounted Ford engine. On subsequent
rounds he once exceeded 159, sliding effortlessly in and out of the turns, the
sun glinting brightly from his car. It is British racing green, a color which
roughly matches the trim on Gasoline Alley garages—and the faces of several
garage inhabitants.
Marshman, on his official run, slashed around the course at 157.867 but, unlike
Clark, he seemed to be pressing, to be flirting with the ragged edge of
disaster. Ward wheeled his Kaiser Aluminum Special up to 156.406 mph for the
third spot. Marshman had been wearing a red baseball cap in his nonracing hours
with 158 mph stitched on it in white embroidery. After the Saturday run he took
it off and looked at it speculatively. "I've already got one made up with 160
miles an hour on it," he said, "for when I make it official." Maybe next year.
Gurney roared into the sixth slot in his blue-and-white Lotus-Ford, but was
unhappy. "I should be going about as fast as Jimmy," he grumbled. "I don't know.
Maybe it's the difference in color."
Said Colin Chapman: "We will have the car right in a day or two. We didn't come
out here to run at 155."
The Offy breakthrough came in late afternoon, under glowering skies and with a
gusty wind blowing across the backstretch. Jones had a replacement engine in his
big No. 98, and he qualified smoothly. Foyt, still scowling over the imbalance
of his car, rolled off with but half an hour left in the session. He was still
scowling on his return, for he had vowed to run back to the 157-plus he had
achieved in practice.
In Ford's headquarters, one engineer said it had not been as easy as it looked.
A. J. (Gus) Scussel, manager of the special engine department, declared,
"Sometimes I think Ford is regarded as the villain in this drama. You hear how
we have lavished millions on this project to dominate racing. But racing is full
of imponderables. We do not tell these people how to run the race; that is their
business. We have eight of our new engines down here. We loan them to these
people and we take them back and study them when they are through. We
forbid—understand that, now—we forbid them to tear the engines down. They are
too intricate and there isn't enough time to train mechanics to do the job. If
an engine blows up, or collapses, we simply pull it out of the car and install a
new one. This program is still new."
Benson Ford, his fingers finally uncrossed, grinned and said, "We want to see a
Ford-powered car win the '500,' make no mistake about it. We felt that the
automotive industry resolution against direct competition was not working out,
and it seems reasonable that winning races will sell cars."
As an evening rain fell on Gasoline Alley, Offymen, gathered in clusters in the
garages, began to perk up a little. Maybe Ford was not going to win. After all,
the engines were new. New racing machinery often harbors bugs. The top Offies
could move, too, at very respectable speeds. "Don't count us out," warned Foyt's
chief mechanic, George Bignotti. "The race will be won by a car that can run at,
say, 152 all day without letup. Our little jewel can do it. Can the Fords stand
up under that pace?"
Well, the Fords certainly would not be hanging back. "This will be an all-out
speed race," said Marshman. "My only strategy is to get ahead and stay there."
Said Ward: "You just go as hard as you can. That's all there is to it this
time."
Apart from their apparent deficiencies in pure speed, the Offymen had another
worry. It looked as though they would have to make at least two pit stops for
fuel, while the Fords probably could get by on one. Burning methanol, the Offies
would do only about three miles per gallon. Burning high-octane gasoline, the
Fords would average seven miles per gallon. There was some talk of exotic
methanol-gasoline mixtures for the Offies to bring that mileage figure up within
one-stop capabilities, and there was some about the possibility of adding extra
fuel tanks. Bignotti was among those toying with the latter notion. "But even
with two stops," he asserted, "we can still win."
At least one thing was certain. More people would have a view of the "500" than
ever before. Apart from the 250,000 or so witnessing the race at firsthand,
scores of thousands more would look on via theater television.
As for Clark, he missed most of the flap. Tipping his helmet to the crowd, he
left Indianapolis on an afternoon plane for New York, flew on to London, and on
Sunday was racing a Lotus-Ford sports car at Mallory Park in the English
Midlands. And he won his race.
Before leaving the Speedway he told Chapman: "There isn't a car here I can't
pass on the backstretch. There is still more performance in this car. And, I
say, Colin, that feels good."
|
*****
Jones and Foyt each brought Offy powered rear engine cars but
other than a few laps in practice, both drivers focused on their roadsters. In
attempt to hold off the rear engine car from taking command, both Parnelli's
Agajanian number 98 and Foyt's Sheraton Thompson number 1 had been heavily
modified. The Agajanian car was a 1960 roadster which Lloyd Ruby qualified for
that year's race. Then Parnelli Jones took over in 1961 and number 98 was
revamped in 1963 and even more for 1964. Foyt's car was a 1963 Watson chassis
that Ebb Rose ran in the "500" for the Sheraton Thompson team and was
streamlined and modified for the 1964 "500" although not as much as Parnelli's
car 98.
Jim Clark was the biggest star on the international racing scene
in May 1964, coming off his spectacular 1963 season, in which he won seven of
ten championship Grand Prix events on the way to the World title, finished
second in the "Indianapolis 500," after having run in front for 28 laps, and then
punctuated his "500" run with a flag to flag Indy car win at Milwaukee. A.J.
Foyt, Rodger Ward and Parnelli Jones enjoyed nearly equal prominence in the
United States. Dan Gurney, although not having accomplished as much as Clark in
Formula One, was considered by many observers at that time, as being the most
versatile race driver in the world, with Grand Prix and sports car victories and
even some success in NASCAR.
One of the most prominent story lines surrounding the 1964
"Indianapolis 500" was America versus Europe, an outright fight between the best
racers on both sides of the Atlantic. Perhaps even more significant was the
expectation the "500" would prove to the world once and for all whether the
traditional machines of "Indy" could withstand the challenge of the new, smaller
rear engine Lotus design coming from Colin Chapman.
Sports Illustrated magazine picked up on the story with a preview
of the upcoming 1964 "500" featuring America's champion A.J. Foyt on the cover
of the issue preceding the race with a profile on the 29 year old Texan.

Sports Illustrated
- June 1, 1964
Driver In A Tight Corner
by Bob Ottum
This Saturday brings the Indianapolis 500-mile race and a great confrontation of
the old and the new. If the traditional Offenhauser roadster (below) cannot beat
back the ominous rear-engine intruder it will surely become as obsolete as horse
cavalry. Much of the old guard's hope is fastened upon A.J. Foyt, the
white-helmeted driver shown here sliding through one of Indy's four 140-mph
corners. Against the opposition's superior speed Foyt must draw most deeply upon
his incandescent will to win if he is to repel the invaders. As the article on
the following pages discloses, ol' A. J. just might be the man who can do it.
No matter what you hear about Anthony Joseph Foyt Jr. (see cover) between this
moment and the Indianapolis 500-mile race, remember that he is not a man driven
by an obsession to win. They always say it, his neighbors in that
semiresidential section of the Indianapolis Speedway infield known as Gasoline
Alley, where for $1,000 per racing car the tenants are permitted to practice
mechanics and amateur psychology. They say it, but A. J. says it isn't so.
"Obsession? Who, me?" says A.J. Foyt delightedly. "Man, listen. I'm not driven
by obsession. If there is any driving to be done around here, ol' A. J. will do
it himself. Obsession is gonna have to get a car of his own." All that A. J.
really believes is that you "get out in front and you stay out in front."
Foyt's towering hatred of defeat has made him both famous and affluent. He has
been champion of the oval tracks three of the last four years, and since he has
recently sprinted to the top in sports car competition as well, he is currently
the hottest property in all racing.
Stories about Foyt tend to have an epic quality, telling of eventual triumph in
the face of long odds. One tale has to do with a race for midget cars two years
ago at Terre Haute. It was a piddling event, offering a winner's purse of $600.
When his car failed to qualify because of a fast-deteriorating track, Foyt did
not write the race off, as any reasonable man would have done. (Reasonable men
as well-heeled and famous as Foyt would not have been there in the first place.)
He paid another driver $100 for the 24th, and last, starting position. Foyt
fought his way to first place at mid-race. He ran out of gas on the last lap,
but by then he was so far ahead he was able to coast in the winner. "I figured,"
he says, "that it was a pretty good gamble."
Off the track Foyt's behavior is no less spectacular. Hot-tempered, handy with
his fists and blunt in his speech, he was once fined $1,000 for tongue-lashing a
racing promoter, and last year was suspended briefly from racing for roughing up
another driver. Close associates are not immune to his whims. His chief
mechanic, George Bignotti, once angrily quit. He came back, though, knowing that
Foyt gives more of himself in races, 52 weeks a year, than any other driver.
When he chooses, Foyt can turn on the charm. He is extraordinarily handsome both
in face and physique. His teeth are whiter than white, and when Foyt smiles they
light up. This creates a brighten-the-corner effect so compelling that
impressionable young women are apt to go swoony in his presence.
Foyt's willingness to take ultimate risks, to drive a little deeper into the
corners than the next man, has brought him a six-figure income, three national
driving championships and one "500" victory (in 1961). His $110,000
trophy-cluttered house in Houston, where he occasionally manages to visit his
wife Lucy and his three children, sprawls over four building lots. Among other
tangible signs of his success are a swimming pool, a Cadillac convertible, a
Thunderbird hardtop, a Pontiac station wagon and a Triumph motorcycle.
But perhaps nothing gives Foyt greater pleasure than the knowledge that he has
cracked the road-racing barrier. Track drivers like Foyt, schooled in the
wheel-to-wheel cut and thrust of midget, stock car and big car racing on oval
tracks, where shifting gears is not required, have long had a tendency to sneer
at the sports car and Grand Prix crowd, which prefers the subtler techniques and
more varied terrain of the road courses. "Sporty car" is the most common epithet
used by the track man to express his hostility. Sneering back, some road-racing
enthusiasts have disparaged the track sport as "boring" and the drivers as
unwashed ruffians.
This unfortunate gulf was widened last year at Indianapolis when Scotland's
Jimmy Clark and America's Dan Gurney, both road-racing men, brilliantly invaded
the track men's most hallowed ground with Lotus-Fords, products of Grand Prix
design. As the Indy drivers correctly judged, many new spectators of the
road-racing persuasion had come to the Brickyard for just one reason, and that
was to see the Indianapolis roadsters humiliated by the Lotus-Fords.
But it has been the track crowd's turn to crow in recent months. Deflating the
notion that "roundy-round" drivers could never make the transition to road
racing, Foyt swept both of the big sports car races at Nassau last December,
becoming the first driver in the meet's 10-year history to do so. First he
whipped a fine international field in a Chevrolet-Scarab to take Nassau's
Governor's Trophy. Two days later, as road-racing devotees choked on their rum
and Cokes, he made the lesson stick by hustling the Scarab in first for the
featured Nassau Trophy. He raced on even terms with Gurney in February's Daytona
Beach American Challenge Cup, and defeated him when Gurney's car broke down. In
March he startled spectators at the Sebring 12-hour race by overtaking 51 cars
on the first lap. He had gotten away tardily in the LeMans start, which is sort
of a calf scramble with hubcaps. Then, just as he was settling down to race, his
Chevrolet Corvette threw a wheel, spun around five times in a 1,000-foot skid,
and tipped up and almost over. Foyt leaped from the car and ran back to the pits
for another wheel. He put the car back together and finished 23rd.
Moreover Foyt captured every open-cockpit track race he entered this year—two
for big cars at Phoenix and Trenton, counting toward the national championship,
and three for sprint cars. Thus he approaches the "500" as the best all-round
American driver in history.
Foyt is also the driver most in demand. He is under contract to the Indianapolis
automotive parts millionaire Bill Ansted, and for the "500" Ansted gave him his
choice of either a front-engine or rear-engine Offenhauser. Foyt liked the
front-engine model best, and of course has qualified it for the race. But for a
time this spring Foyt was flirting with the idea of switching to a new
Lotus-Ford. Ford has openly courted Foyt for more than a year. The Thunderbird
turned up in his Houston driveway because, one Ford man said, "We want him to be
seen driving the best car, now don't we?" Before official practice began at the
Speedway, Ford invited him to try out the Lotus-Ford "just to see how it feels
there, A. J." According to Foyt, it felt awful; he had to sit hunched over in
the tiny cockpit. If Foyt does not beat the odds against him Saturday, however,
there is likely to be a Ford in his future. Tire-makers long for his services,
too. Goodyear employs him to test racing tires and supposed that he would use
Goodyears in the "500." But drivers can be intractable when they conclude that
one product has an edge over another. Not only Foyt but also three other
Goodyear test drivers will race on Firestone tires May 30; Goodyear clearly has
some distance to go to catch up with long-dominant Firestone. An extraordinary
facet of the tire battle is that Foyt, who feels a special obligation to
Goodyear, declared after qualifying that he would wear his customary Goodyear
coveralls in the "500" and would turn down prize money offered by Firestone if
he won the race.
Foyt was not always the object of so much yearning. "Looky here," he will say,
holding up both big, scarred hands. "I got these scars from working on engines.
I got them the hard way, when there wasn't money for mechanics."
A.J. Foyt was born 29 years ago in Houston, and some of his earliest memories
are of hands already roughened and scarred in toil on racing cars. His father
owned a garage and campaigned midget cars. In Houston now they tell about A. J.
at 4 and the miniature red racing car his father built for him. It boasted a
real one-cylinder Briggs & Stratton engine and, so the stories go, one could
tell from the way he got his foot into the throttle that A. J. was going to be a
champion.
"Oh, we had that little ol' car, all right," says A. J. senior, "but a lot of
kids have little race cars and don't grow up to be A. J. Foyts. I'll tell you
when it really started. It was in 1946, right after the war, when A. J. was 11.
I owned two midget cars in those days, and Mrs. Foyt and I took one of them to
Dallas for a race. We left one of them home, and we left A. J. home, too.
"When we got back—it was about 5:30 in the morning, I guess—we found the whole yard tore
up. I mean, everything was gone. The grass was chewed to pieces and there were
tire gouges all around. The swings we had in the yard had been knocked down. I
knew right away that A. J. had got some of his buddies to push him and they had
got that midget started up. It didn't have a self-starter, of course. And then,
when I went into the garage and saw the midget, I knew why A. J. had quit. He
had caught the thing on fire and burned up the engine. It was sitting there with
the paint all scorched.
"Oh, we had that little ol' car, all right," says A. J. senior, "but a lot of
kids have little race cars and don't grow up to be A. J. Foyts. I'll tell you
when it really started. It was in 1946, right after the war, when A. J. was 11.
I owned two midget cars in those days, and Mrs. Foyt and I took one of them to
Dallas for a race. We left one of them home, and we left A. J. home, too.
A. J. raced his father's midgets to begin with. Quitting school in the 11th
grade, he began his racing apprenticeship at age 17. "I couldn't study anymore,"
he says. "I was racing for my dad and working in his garage and taking home $75
a week, and you know how it is. I just couldn't wait any longer."
A. J. soon became a kid star in the Southwest. Something of a dude, he wore silk
shirts and spruce, freshly laundered white trousers in every race and soon
acquired the nickname Fancypants. Evidently his temper was as short then as it
is now. When he ventured north in 1957 to try big cars in the big time, word of
his willingness to use his fists as well as his foot followed him.
After a year's seasoning in 100-mile events, Foyt burst upon Indianapolis. Some
drivers, outstanding on other tracks, develop a kind of paralysis at Indy and
find themselves unable to cope with its higher speeds, its unusual pressures.
Foyt, however, cockily talked himself into one of the best cars on the grounds,
the Dean Van Lines Special, and managed to place it 16th in his first "500."
Three years later, with Bignotti in his pit, he drove the Bowes Seal Fast
Special to victory. Few "500s" had been as thrilling. Leading and with only 15
laps to go, Foyt had to pull in for fuel. Eddie Sachs then went ahead and seemed
certain to win, but three laps before the finish he, in turn, was forced to make
a pit stop—for a new tire—and the race and a $117,975 check went to Foyt.
It was after the following year's "500" that Foyt and Bignotti parted. One of
Foyt's wheels came loose and threw him into the infield in a violent spin at a
time when he was running third to the leader, Parnelli Jones. It would be
reasonable to assume that no alliance could have survived the sulfurous language
Foyt later addressed to Bignotti about that wheel.
By Memorial Day 1963, though, Foyt and Bignotti had patched things up. The only
failing in Foyt's car was a slight deficiency in speed, and he finished third
behind Jones and Clark.
This year exotic new racers have diverted attention from the drivers, but it
would be folly to minimize their importance. "Of the 33 drivers," says Rodger
Ward, the durable warrior who won in 1959 and 1962, "there are 10 men to beat.
The other 23 cannot win unless something happens to the top 10." Diplomatically,
Ward refuses to name his elite group. Foyt has no such reluctance. "That would
be Jim Hurtibise, Don Branson, Parnelli Jones, Ward, Dan Gurney, Jimmy Clark and
Bobby Marshman." He grins and adds: "An' ol' A.J. Foyt."
If Bignotti is again handling the wrenches, it does not mean that his
relationship with Foyt has become a placid one. Let Foyt detect something amiss
and he is likely to screech up to the pits shouting, "Goddam it, the wheels are
jumping this far off the track. Now fix that or I'll do it myself." When things
are going well, however, he flashes a grin and says, "That George, ain't he
beautiful with that smile. George, you ol' dago, you're all right." Says
Bignotti: "A. J. is not...uhhh...the easiest guy in the world to get along with.
But I guess we work better together than we do apart. A. J. is one of the few
drivers in this business who understands everything about cars. He doesn't have
to do his own work anymore, but if he had to he could build his own car. When
some little thing goes wrong he can tell you exactly what it is, and when he
says he can fix it himself he is telling the truth."
Like some other drivers, Foyt punctuates his sentences with sound effects.
"Blam" and "shoof" are fair examples of what he is likely to toss into a
conversation, but his favorite is "voom." 'Voom approximates the sound of a
racing engine, and its use often merely signifies high spirits. Jim Hurtibise,
for example, rarely passes Foyt's Gasoline Alley garage without leaning in and
bouncing a "voom" off the walls.
Foyt's bank account has plenty of voom, too. Men close to him agree that he
earns upwards of $100,000 a year, which makes him one of the country's
highest-paid school dropouts. "He may not have had much education," says Bill
Ansted, "but he certainly knows how to read a contract."
The one thing Foyt has not been able to master is his temper. Friends believe he
has mellowed considerably this year, but, remembering a 1963 eruption, have
their fingers crossed. The trouble began during a sprint car race at Williams
Grove, Pa. when it seemed that Driver Johnny White was deliberately cutting Foyt
off in the turns. When the race ended, A. J. went steaming to White's pit.
According to an official, whose report caused Foyt's suspension from racing,
Foyt slugged White. According to Foyt, he did not. "Oh," says Foyt, "I had him
around the head pretty good. I was holding him, all right, but I didn't hit
him." Driver Roger McCluskey vouched for Foyt's story. "A. J. didn't hit White,"
said McCluskey at a hearing at which Foyt's reinstatement was being considered.
"If he had, he would have torn his head off." Foyt handled his own, defense, for
which he was "prepared like a Philadelphia lawyer," and of course was
reinstated.
There are those who believe that Foyt's temporary suspension combined with his
exposure to the less violent world of, sports car racing his steadied him. Foyt
has driven sports cars only two years. The first time out, at Riverside, Calif.,
he put an E-type Jaguar into a wall. Only his ego was damaged, and that briefly.
Last year he joined the large, lavishly equipped team of his fellow Houstonian.
the oil heir John W. Mecom Jr. Catching on quickly—"I always did like to shift
gears"—he surprisingly placed second last fall in an important race at Laguna
Seca Calif., wheeling home in a car that was threatening to fly apart. Foyt was
steering with one hand and' holding the car in gear with the others Nassau,
Daytona and Sebring confirmed him as a major new road-racing talent. Foyt is
inclined to take a jaunty view of this sudden eminence. "Oh," he says, "them
sporty cars is all right, but, remember, I'm just a poor working boy who can't
afford to race for fun."
Nevertheless, it is regrettable that' Foyt's heavy American racing schedule will
prevent him from taking a crack at the Grand Prix series leading to the" world
driving championship. Foyt in a Lotus or a Ferrari in road racing's biggest
league would be worth crossing oceans to see.
But Foyt is worth watching wherever he races. "I look at it this way," he' says.
"You can't really relax or you fall behind. Mother told me years ago that when
you get to the top there is only one way to go, and that's down. But I am still
on top. Voom!"
|
*****
Humble Oil Company, who made a grand entrance at the Indianapolis
Motor Speedway, with its Enco/Esso brand, to challenge Mobil's flying red horse
for oil and fuel supremacy, telecast an hour long network TV documentary
spotlighting all the changes taking place at Indianapolis. The accents were on
the Lotus - Ford versus Offy roadsters and Jim Clark and Dan Gurney versus the
Indy car regulars. It was a good show with a lot of major story lines. I think
Rodger Ward did some of the narration. It would be interesting to watch today
forty six years later. I wish I could find it on video. It is also interesting
that once great rivals like Enco/Esso and Mobil were such fierce competitors but
today are consolidated into one corporation - Exxon Mobil.
I was beside myself with excitement. This was my ninth "Indy 500"
and it was shaping up to be the best I had experienced. I became a strong Jim Clark fan over the previous two
racing seasons and I wanted him to win the 1964 "500" in a big way. I was
ready and eager for a rear engine car to win the race too. It was time. I had
decided the year before it was time for the new cars to take over. I did not
hang on to the roadster and the Offy. I wanted Ford Motor Company to be
victorious. I wanted the world's best Grand Prix racer Jim Clark to win the
world's biggest race. I was ready for change at IMS!
May 1964 presented new opportunities for me. I had my first car
(a 1957 Buick -- Lord what a beast!) but it provided me with transportation to
get to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway each afternoon. I was a junior at Carmel
High School, making good grades, digging The Beatles, in love with Paula Sanders
even though she hardly knew I was alive and was moving away in June, and at 3:30
pm when I got out of school, I would take off for the Speedway and "500"
practice. It was neat to have that freedom and I made the most of it.
I arrived at IMS most days about 4:15 PM. I sat in the dark green
Tower Terrace seats that were located behind the pits. I was already a smoker
and since I had told my parents, I smoked openly. It was the biggest mistake of
my life. I also sucked on a lot of peppermint Life Savers. My buddy Dave
Willmuth often accompanied me to the track.
The first week of practice started slow but the action began to
build as the week progressed. The fastest cars early were A.J. Foyt's Sheraton
Thompson Special Watson - Offy and a new rear engine chassis built by Rolla
Vollstedt, from plans he purchased from A.J. Watson (or did Watson borrow
Vollstedt's design for his own Leader Card rear engine cars?) powered by an
Offy, and driven by Len Sutton. Foyt hit 154 mph and it became obvious there
were going to be new track records in qualifications which were still nearly two
weeks away. Throughout that first week of practice Foyt ran exclusively on
Goodyear tires.
Len Sutton after qualifying eighth for the "Indianapolis 500" at an average
speed of 153.810 mph on May 16, 1964. Sutton's car 66 was a new rear engine
creation from Rolla Vollstedt powered by the traditional Offy four cylinder
engine.
Look at those packed grandstands for pole day qualifications at the Speedway.
With the huge jump in miles per hour during May, pole day 1964 was one of the
most historic and dramatic qualifying days in Indianapolis Motor Speedway
history. |

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
Later in the week, Parnelli Jones raised the speed to 155 mph. On
occasion Jones and Foyt brought out their rear engine backup cars and ran a few
laps, but neither Parnelli nor A.J. seemed very interested in their new cars.
Both cars were Offy powered. Joe Huffaker built the Foyt rear engine entry. This
car was later qualified by Bob Veith as the MG Liquid Suspension Special.
Parnelli's car was built by Troutman and Barnes. Jones' rear engine car was
unattractive, boxy, looking older like Colin Chapman's 1960 model Lotus 18.
Parnelli exceeded 151 mph in the car. Foyt was able to get his rear engine car
up to 154. A.J. hedged his bets to the media but Parnelli was more decisive in
public indicating he would probably choose his beloved roadster "Calhoun,"
which was the only race car he had driven at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway to
that time. It became obvious a few days before qualifications that Foyt and
Jones were both locked into their roadsters.
Rodger Ward threw caution to the wind and bet his future on the
new approach however. A.J. Watson built two new rear engine cars, one for Ward,
painted in the traditional Leader Card Racers white with red and blue trim and
powered by the new Ford DOHC V8. The other Leader Card entry was powered by an
Offy, painted in the yellow symbolizing the car's sponsor Wynn's Friction
Proofing, and driven by Don Branson. Ward raised the high speed to 156 mph,
knocking Parnelli off the top of the speed charts.
Bobby Marshman was a 27 year old racer from Pottstown,
Pennsylvania. He started racing Indy cars in 1961 and finished seventh in the
1961 "Indianapolis 500" after starting 33rd. That performance earned him a share
of the Rookie of the Year award with Parnelli Jones. He qualified for the
outside of the front row and finished fifth in the 1962 "500." Marshman won the
1962 Indy car season finale on the dirt one mile oval at Phoenix, which predated
the current paved mile venue now called Phoenix International Raceway.
Lindsey Hopkins, a multi-millionaire businessman operating out of
Atlanta and Miami, entered cars in Indy car competition for three decades. Bill
Vukovich was driving for Hopkins when he died in the 1955 "Indianapolis 500."
Racing legends Jim Rathmann and Tony Bettenhausen both drove for Hopkins but did
not win at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the long time car owner although
Rathmann had a pair of second place finishes in 1957 and 1959 driving for
Hopkins. Lindsay Hopkins continued to enter cars for the "Indianapolis 500" into
the 1980s. His best chance, other than Vukovich's run before his fatal crash,
was perhaps 1964 with Bobby Marshman. After Jim Clark's success in the 1963
"500," Hopkins decided he wanted a Lotus - Ford for 1964. He purchased the Lotus
29 that Dan Gurney crashed on May 18, 1963, during a qualification.
On May 12, four days before pole day, Bobby Marshman hit 157.1
mph. Marshman's rise to the top of the speed charts caught people's attention as
speculation centered on how fast the cars were going to go. Jim Clark, Dan
Gurney and Colin Chapman arrived in Indianapolis following the Grand Prix of
Monaco and started preparations for qualifications to be held the coming
weekend. The new Lotus 34 Indianapolis model was basically a modified version of
the Lotus 33 Grand Prix car that was still being built in England.
Clark's May 1964 was a busy month. He shuttled back and forth to
Britain and Europe as he sought to defend his World Championship and his time in
Indianapolis was limited. Team Lotus was in the midst of trying to develop their
Lotus 33 Grand Prix car to replace the 1963 title winning Lotus 25. The Scotsman
was heavily involved with that project which left less time to prepare for
"Indy" as Team Lotus rushed to complete work on their new Formula One
challenger.
When Jimmy was in the dark green number 6 with the traditional
Lotus yellow racing stripe, he was near perfection to watch. Soon Clark and
Marshman were locked into an intense battle for supremacy on the speed charts.
Rodger Ward and Dan Gurney were in a similar battle for "top dog" in the second
tier. Meanwhile, Jones and Foyt were probably grinding their teeth in
frustration. Obviously Parnelli and A.J. were getting everything possible out of
their roadsters and sometimes ran within a couple mph hour of the Fords, but
both had to realize they were on a steep uphill climb.
What was going on at 16th and Georgetown that week was unlike
anything I had seen before and they were rocking and rolling at the old track.
The finest racing driver in international racing, a 28 year old Scotsman, was
trying to capture the big prize from the best race drivers on this side of the
Atlantic with his tiny dark green British Lotus - Ford at speeds nobody would
have thought possible a year earlier. It was the most radical departure from the
past the "Indy 500" ever experienced before or since.
At the same time, the United States -- for that matter the world
-- was into the fourth month of international Beatlemania and it was like the British had
returned to America and taken control of the "colonies" -- via the youth
culture. Elvis Presley was relegated to the past. Of course as we would find out
in the following decade, the "King" would re-emerge bigger than ever with
primarily the same audience that worshipped him in 1956 when he ruled the nation
with his greasy hair, sideburns and swiveling hips. That was still more than 4
1/2 years off however and in 1964, Elvis had gone flat and The Beatles were
everywhere you looked and any time you turned on the radio it was a good bet a
Beatles recording would be playing.
To punctuate the British atmosphere that was in the air at that
time, the James Bond craze was about to hit the nation. When the film "Dr. No,"
with Jim Clark's fellow Scotsman Sean Connery portraying agent Bond, was
released in 1962, it earned box office receipts of nearly $60 million from a
$1.2 million budget. "From Russia With Love," the next Bond film earned $78
million from a $2.5 million investment after it was released in late 1963. The
third Bond film "Goldfinger," was released around the Christmas holidays in
1964. The new movie was a smash hit. Agent 007 became a household name as did
the actor who portrayed him, Sean Connery. Obviously that the Bond craze and
Beatlemania coincided with each other and both with the rise of Jim Clark was
pure irony, but nevertheless this was a time for Great Britain to dominate the
pop culture in the U.S. and Indianapolis, Indiana as well.
I was concerned that I would get caught in traffic on the way to
the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and the radiator on my brute of a Buick would
overheat, but early morning Saturday May 16, 1964, I got in my 1957 two tone
beast, to start my second favorite day of each year - pole qualifying day for
the "Indianapolis 500."
Accompanying me on that day was Steve Hansen, my all time friend
Bill Correll's younger step brother, and Rex Doom. Rex was among the most
original characters I ever met. He was in my junior class at Carmel High School.
School was not one of Rex's better endeavors. He was more what you would call
street smart than talented in the class room. Rex went with me on one of my
after school trips to the Speedway that month. He embarrassed the hell out of me
by shouting insults at people waiting to catch the city bus we passed on our way
from Carmel to the track. Rex Doom could be a red headed devil when he chose and
that is what he usually chose.
On May 16, Steve, Rex and I made it safely to the Speedway about
sixty minutes before the 11 am start of qualifications. In those days, there
were extensive festivities and parades going on before time trials started and
practice already concluded. Bobby Marshman turned 160 mph in practice shortly
before we arrived. IMS filled with fans at near race day levels excited to see
what the day would present in terms of new speed records. Tom Carnegie's voice
boomed over the public address system. I took a few deep breaths and waited for
the big show that was about to begin.
As Bob Ottum reported in his Sports Illustrated article posted
above, A.J. Foyt and Parnelli Jones were among the earliest drivers who
attempted to qualify. Foyt was slower than he wanted to be and called off his
run. Jones blew an engine and things did not look good for the Offy roadsters.
A short time later, Rodger Ward pulled on to the track in the
white number 2 Kaiser Aluminum Special, A.J. Watson's new tube frame rear engine
racer powered by the new Ford DOHC V8. Earlier I referred to Rolla Vollstedt's
rear engine Offy entry in the 1964 "Indy 500" for Len Sutton. The physical
appearance of the silver Vollstedt car and the two rear engine Leader Card
racers entries for Ward and Don Branson, who was running a new Watson chassis
with Offy power, were very similar in appearance.
Although I was not aware of it at the time, the Watson and
Vollstedt cars were built from identical blueprints. You would think that
Vollstedt would have used Watson's design just as many fabricators did several
times a few years earlier, at the height of the roadster era. Wayne Ewing built
an Indy roadster from Watson's plans for the Dean Van Lines operation for the
1960 "Indy 500." Eddie Sachs placed Ewing's Watson copy on the pole for the 1960
and 1961 races. Veteran Indy car mechanic Floyd Trevis built another Watson copy
for George Bignotti which carried A.J. Foyt to his first "500" win in 1961. In
recent years however, I have read that it was Watson who borrowed Vollstedt's
rear engine design after falling behind with the construction of a radical rear
engine design which made its debut at the Speedway in May 1965.
Rodger Ward had one of the most successful careers in the history
of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Ward was one of those drivers for whom
success did not come easy in a race car. He was a P38 fighter pilot in World War
II and began racing in 1946 after being released from the U.S. Army.
Ward made his "Indianapolis 500" debut in 1951. The most notable
footnote to Ward's career in the early years was that he started the four car
chain reaction crash that claimed the life of Bill Vukovich in the 1955 "Indy
500." It took him six years to finish in the top ten in the "500" when he was
eighth in 1956. Bob Wilke, a Milwaukee businessman, hired A.J. Watson to create
a racing team. Jim Rathmann was the first choice to drive for Leader Card
Racers. Rathmann did not want to run the dirt ovals which comprised most of the
Indy car schedule in those days. So Watson hired Ward and a hard luck veteran
was suddenly transformed into a racing legend.
In May 1959, with a new Watson roadster to drive, Ward qualified
a comfortable sixth for the "Indy 500." On race day, Ward battled pole sitter
Johnny Thomson, Jim Rathmann and 1956 "500" winner Pat Flaherty for the first 84
laps. The Leader Card team had the fastest pit stops. A.J. Watson devised a
hydraulic jack for Ward's number 5 and being fastest in the pits, combined with
Rodger's solid run on track, was enough to beat the field. Ward took the command
on lap 85 and beat Jim Rathmann to the checkered flag by 23.27 seconds, with
Thomson, Tony Bettenhausen and Paul Goldsmith following. Wilke, Watson and Ward
won three more Indy car races and took the 1959 season championship.
|
Rodger Ward after qualifying at 144.030 mph for the "Indianapolis 500" on May
16, 1959. Ward started sixth, led 130 laps on the way to winning the
"Indianapolis 500" by 23.27 seconds over Jim Rathmann. |

Ward's consistency in the "Indianapolis 500" was phenomenol. In
1960, Ward and his closest pursuer in the 1959 race, Jim Rathmann, put on one of
the all time classic battles in the "Indy 500." Fourteen times during the final
100 laps, Rathmann and Ward exchanged the lead. Ward was leading on lap 197 when
he slowed because the front tires on his car were showing excessive wear and
Rathmann went by to win with a 12.67 second advantage.
Ward finished third behind A.J. Foyt and Eddie Sachs in the 1961
"500." In 1962, Ward won his second "Indianapolis 500," taking the lead when
Parnelli Jones faded with failing brakes. In 1963, Rodger finished fourth behind
Parnelli Jones, Jim Clark and A.J. Foyt.
Rodger Ward celebrates in Victory Lane after winning the "Indianapolis 500" on
May 30, 1962 at an average speed of 140.293 mph.
Look closely. Is that IMS president Tony Hulman on the far left? The well
dressed dark haired gentleman in the gray suit immediately to the right of the
"500 Festival" queen kissing Ward is one of the Firestone family, so prominent
at the Speedway in those days. The tall guy in the brown suit holding the Borg
Warner trophy is Jack MacKenzie, who was an annual "Indianapolis 500" Victory Lane
fixture back then. |

Rodger Ward was a stocky man, with dark curly hair, an engaging
smile and a friendly, charming demeanor. Rumor has it that Ward romanced some of
the most prominent ladies in the local community during his years in
Indianapolis. I don't how many times Ward was married but I know there were at
least three wives -- maybe more. Unlike many of his fellow racers, Ward loved to
talk and was perhaps the first of the new breed of drivers to capitalize on the
commercial opportunities to come his way as a result of his racing success and
his likeable personality.
Rodger Ward was a late bloomer in every sense. When the package
finally came together, Ward took advantage of all opportunities and became a
great champion. Of today's Indy car racers, in terms of racing style, the
contemporary driver who most reminds me of the 1959 and 1960 "Indy 500" winner
is Helio Castroneves. Like Helio, Ward's presence in a race was always felt and
on his day, he could be unbeatable. Ward's race craft was excellent. He was
smooth as silk, managed his car well and when everything came together, Rodger,
like Castroneves, was magic. Just as Helio Castroneves would not be driving for
Roger Penske if he was not a terrific competitor, Rodger Ward would not have
been A.J. Watson's choice during the early 1960s if a wealth of racing talent
was not apparent.
Rodger Ward started from the front row at the Indianapolis Motor
Speedway in 1960 and 1962 but never held the track record in qualifications --
until May 16, 1964. Rodger broke the existing one lap record (151.847 mph by
Parnelli Jones in 1963) with a lap at 157.563 mph. Ward's four lap average of
156.406 mph surpassed Parnelli's 151.153 mph record from the previous year. The
Indianapolis Motor Speedway track records belonged to Ford Motor Company. It was
the first time since May 15, 1954 the IMS speed honors were not held by a race
car powered by the four cylinder Offy.
Rodger Ward after qualifying for the "Indianapolis 500" on May 16, 1964, at an
average speed of 156.406 mph.
Note the ragged cut on the engine cover to enable the Ford DOHC V8 engine to
fit. It shows that even a master mechanic like A.J. Watson was working in a
brand new realm as far as race car design was concerned in May 1964.
|

The spotlight then turned to Bobby Marshman, who had been
slightly faster in practice than Jim Clark. It was Marshman and not Clark who
was the odds on favorite to take pole and his 160 mph lap earlier in morning
practice was plastered on headlines on the front page of special editions of The
Indianapolis News on sale at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
We didn't have the Internet in the old days at the Speedway. What
we had was exciting and more dramatic. In 1964, there were three local daily
newspapers in Indianapolis and each had people covering "500" activity closely.
On race day and pole day, there would be three or four editions of the
newspapers with front pages proclaiming in large, boldface type what was
happening on track. It was really cool. Within a few moments after pulling into
Victory Lane, a helicopter would land in the IMS infield and a copy of the
newspaper, with headlines reporting his win, would be delivered to the new "Indy
500" winner. The situation was almost the same on pole qualifying day, with
vendors wandering the grandstands with updated editions, with headlines
proclaiming what had taken place earlier in the day.
What was interesting about the Clark versus Marshman rivalry was
that an American racing team, the Lindsey Hopkins operation, with no previous
experience preparing a rear engine racing car, took a 1963 model Lotus 29
chassis and placed an engine which the car was not designed for, the new Ford
DOHC V8, into the chassis and managed to compete on equal terms with the World
Championship Grand Prix operation Team Lotus. Marshman and Clark were both born
in 1936. Jim's birthday was in March and Bobby's was in September. Marshman had
shown promise during his three seasons in Indy car racing. By 1964, observers
felt the Pennsylvania driver was ready to break out. Jack Beckley, one of the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway veteran mechanics, was crafting Marshman into a
strong racer and a star in waiting.
So when Marshman, who had also tried Goodyear tires in practice,
pulled out of the pits in the white and red Pure Firebird Special number 51,
there was a sense of drama and the big question was how high would Bobby raise
the track record. The answer came quickly as Marshman took speeds into the 158
mph range with a new one lap record of 158.562 and a four lap mark of 157.867
mph.
The atmosphere was electric and the fans packed in the
grandstands roared their approval. Jim Clark, Dan Gurney, Parnelli Jones and
A.J. Foyt all had yet to put their cars in the race. Clark came out a few cars
after Marshman and as he pulled on to the track in his dark green Lotus - Ford
number 6, the sun disappeared behind the clouds momentarily.
Clark was wearing an uncharacteristic black visor attached to his
customary Border Reivers dark blue Bell helmet. Jim borrowed the visor from Dan
Gurney. The reigning World Champion was faster than Marshman with one lap at
159.377 mph and four laps at 158.828. The "Indianapolis 500" pole belonged to a
foreign born driver for the first time since Italian born Ralph DePalma, winner
of the 1915 "500," started on pole for the 1921 race.
I was ecstatic. Had Marshman won pole, that would have been okay
with me as long as Clark was competitive. Winning the "500" was what counted,
but I was very happy to see the "Flying Scot" add America's second biggest
racing prize, at that time, the "Indy 500" pole position, to his growing collection of major
successes.
For much of the day, on May 16, 1964, there were four rear engine
Ford powered cars occupying the first four spots on the grid after Dan Gurney
qualified his Lotus - Ford at 154.480 mph. Gurney expressed some disappointment
that he had not run as fast as Jim Clark. Later, Gurney indicated some
discontent with his situation at Team Lotus, suggesting that Colin Chapman was
showing too much preference for Clark. The truth is Dan Gurney was not as fast
as Clark in a race car. While Gurney and Jimmy remained close friends, Dan's
relationship with Chapman soured.
Dan Gurney salutes the photographers after qualifying sixth for the
"Indianapolis 500" on May 16, 1964 at an average speed of 154.480 mph.
Looking at the Gurney Lotus, I just noticed the slightly upturned nose of
Gurney's Lotus 34. There you have it. Colin Chapman was thirty years ahead of
his time; just another example of his genius.
|

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
As the day progressed into the afternoon, and the field began to
assemble for the 48th "Indianapolis 500," the suspense began to build. What were
the two American headliners, one the defending "Indy 500" winner and the other
the previous season's Indy car champion, Jones and Foyt, going to do? The answer
came in the final hour of qualifications. Jones gave it everything he could and
qualified fourth with an average speed of 155.090 mph. Foyt's run was slightly
slower at 154.670 mph.
In 1964, "Indy 500" pole day was an even bigger show than usual.
I would classify the three most significant pole days as 1962, when Parnelli
Jones shattered the 150 mph barrier, 1964 and 1977, when Tom Sneva broke 200 mph
at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
The track record jumped 7.53 miles per hour from one year earlier
and that was unprecedented. More than that was the fact that in one day, the
definition of an Indy car changed from the traditional American Indy roadster,
with the invincible four cylinder Offy in front of the driver, to a British race
car about 65 percent the size of the roadster, with the new Ford V8 behind the
driver. Almost as significant, the "500" pole position winner from the previous
year, the 1963 "Indy 500" winner Jones, a traditional American speed demon who
had come up the hard way, dodging death as he made his way to the top, was
replaced by the number one race driver in the world, Clark, the reigning World
Champion, a soft spoken sheep farmer from a prominent family in Scotland.
Jim Clark propelled himself into the primary starring role at the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway in May 1964, with an outstanding cast of supporting
players, arguably the three best racers in the United States, Parnelli Jones,
A.J. Foyt and Rodger Ward. America's leading road racer Dan Gurney and a
Pennsylvania "hotshot" Bobby Marshman, who was ready to burst through to the big
time, were also in the forefront as the story of the 48th "Indy 500" took shape
and form. It was fabulous!
Five more cars qualified for the "500" on Sunday May 17. Eddie
Sachs was fastest with an average at 151.430 mph in a radical semi-monocoque
rear engine chassis designed and built by Ted Halibrand and powered by the new
Ford DOHC V8. I went to the Speedway with Dave Willmuth that day. The pace was
slow after all the excitement from the day before.
Eddie Sachs is shown after qualifying the American Red Ball Special for the
"Indianapolis 500" on May 17, 1964. His car was an interesting new
semi-monocoque chassis from Halibrand Engineering entered by the Indianapolis
based DVS racing operation.
Even though this was the second day of qualifications, which used to be an
anticlimax after the previous day's battle for pole position, there is a nice
crowd in the grandstand. By today's standards, that would be a large turnout for
pole day. |

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
The following day, Team Lotus conducted extensive testing with
Dan Gurney driving, as Jim Clark had returned to England. Lotus ran Dunlop tires
in Grand Prix competition and the British tire maker was the principal supporter
for the Lotus Formula One program. For commercial reasons, Team Lotus wanted to
take Dunlop to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Despite the fact, the Lotus -
Fords ran on Firestone tires in the 1963 "Indy 500," Colin Chapman was able to
persuade Ford to allow his cars to run Dunlops at Indianapolis. Ford officials
expressed misgivings about that decision. During his limited time at the
Speedway in May 1964, Jim Clark wore a powder blue Dunlop driving uniform when
he was in the number 6 Lotus Powered by Ford.
Both Clark and Gurney qualified on super soft Dunlop Formula One
rain tires. That might have provided Clark with his advantage in qualifications
over Bobby Marshman. Gurney did a 60 lap test with Colin Chapman watching
closely. During the test, bits of rubber were shredding as Gurney drove the
Lotus - Ford through the corners. As things turned out, although not much was
made of it at the time, this was probably the turning point in the outcome of
the 1964 "Indianapolis 500."
My next trip to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was the Saturday
following pole day, on May 23. I went to the track with Bill Correll, who had
missed pole day because he had to get ready for his senior prom at Carmel High
School. First however, Bill dragged me to a car dealer in Noblesville, Indiana
and we did not get to IMS until mid afternoon. I was in a less intense mood than
I had been the previous Saturday although it was a busy day in terms of track
action. Most of the headliners had already made it into the race the previous
weekend but there was still a lot going on. Unfortunately, it took us so long to
get to the Speedway that Bill and I missed most of the important action.
There was a small crowd at the track on Saturday May 23. Two time World
Champion Jack Brabham, from Australia, the man who started the rear engine
revolution three years earlier with the Cooper - Climax, had to make an
unplanned trip to Indianapolis from Zandvoort, Holland, where he was preparing
for the Grand Prix of Holland. Brabham had been left in line waiting to qualify
the previous Sunday at 6 PM which necessitated his emergency return to
Indianapolis to qualify his own new tube frame Offy powered race car, which had
been entered by John Zink, who owned Pat Flaherty's winning car in the 1956
"500." Brabham was the first car on the track to qualify at 152.504 mph and then
rushed to return to Holland and the Formula One race taking place that weekend.
World Champions Jim Clark (1963) and Jack Brabham (1959, 1960) pose in the pits
at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in May 1964.
Notice that although Brabham, like Clark, was wearing a Dunlop uniform, his Indy
car was on Firestone tires. Smart move Jack. |

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
Five other cars qualified that day including Bobby Unser and Jim
McElreath in the popular Novi entries. Unser averaged 154.865 mph in the
Ferguson four wheel drive Novi. That speed would have placed Bobby in the middle
of row two the previous Saturday.
One thing I specifically recall from that day was that when we
were leaving the penthouse section of the grandstand where we had been watching
(I don't recall exactly where we had been sitting) Bill wanted to empty the ice
from the cooler he had brought. In later years, Bill said it was me who emptied
the cooler on the people walking below. I was laughing my head off when Bill
emptied the cooler on those unfortunate fans who happened to be walking below,
several of whom yelled up at us after having unexpected ice water falling on
them. It was Bill that emptied the cooler but I encouraged him throughout. What
a couple of smart aleck teenage assholes we were! It's funny to think about
though. Oh "Morris" I really miss you!
Bill could be a naughty guy at times and in those days he was a
rebel. People who did not know him well called him arrogant and I suppose there
was some basis for that. He was my all time friend however. Bill died in July
2007. I would give anything to have him here today.
I was so excited about the 1964 "Indianapolis 500," it seemed to
take forever for the next week to pass. I ran the race in my head over and over
again. There was no way I could see that Jim Clark would be stopped. Jimmy was
coming off his eleventh Grand Prix victory in Holland and to me he looked
unbeatable. Marshman worried me a bit, and although Bobby was fast, I felt that
over the course of 500 miles, Clark would be better. I considered Parnelli Jones
to be the foremost racer at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, but I did not
believe the pearl and candy apple red Agajanian Bowes Seal Fast number 98 could
match the speed of the number 6 Lotus Powered by Ford. I gave passing thought to
Ward, Foyt and even Gurney as possible challengers but I did not think any of
that three were strong enough to beat Jim Clark.
1964 was going to be the year when my favorite driver finally won
the "500." Five times I had come to the race to cheer for Tony Bettenhausen,
from 1956 through 1960 and the closest the "Tinley Park Express" came to winning
during those years was in 1958, when he led 24 laps in the race (the only time
Bettenhausen led the "Indy 500") and presented a strong challenge to eventual
race winner Jimmy Bryan. Slow pit work by Tony's part time Jones & Maley crew
hampered the effort and he ended up in fourth place.
Tony Bettenhausen's Lindsey Hopkins Autolite Special
Epperly - Offy was the fastest car at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in May
1961. Bettenhausen flirted with the magic 150 mph lap a few days before
qualifications and he was the odds on favorite for the pole and considered a
good bet to beat the one minute barrier at the Speedway. If Tony were ever going
to win the "Indy 500," at age 44, the 1961 race looked like his best chance. It
broke my heart that Tony Bettenhausen was killed testing a car for his buddy
Paul Russo, in the early afternoon of May 12, one day before the battle for pole
position. I was in the doldrums for two years after Tony's death, and
discovering Jim Clark in May 1963 brought me back to being as intense about
racing as I had been before Bettenhausen was killed.
I awoke early on May 30, 1964 to clear blue skies and cool
temperatures. Bill Correll, Dave Willmuth and Jim Mace accompanied me to the
race and we had tickets in the lower rows at the south end of Grandstand B,
leading into turn one. I drove my dad's 1962 Chevrolet station wagon (maybe I
drove my big Buick -- I'm not sure) to Glendale shopping center and the four of
us caught a city bus that would take us downtown, where we caught another bus to
the Speedway, as Dave Willmuth and I had done on race day 1963. My memories
about the ride to the track are a bit hazy after forty six years but it seems as
if we ran into a delay making the bus trip from downtown to the Speedway and we
did not get to the track as early as I intended.
These days, with photography being my primary consideration at
any racing event, including the "Indianapolis 500," I am ready to shoot and only
need about thirty minutes to get into race mode. More important, and thankfully
so, the specter of tragedy and death does not hang over the pre-race proceedings
the way it did in the 1960s. Therefore, the biggest anxiety I face on "Indy 500"
race morning in recent years is getting to IMS and having time to set up my
photo gear so I can be ready for the start of the race. I spend the immediate
moments before the pack of race cars comes by the first time continuously
focusing my camera on a crack in the asphalt of the track surface or the white
line on the inside of the corner. Once that is accomplished I am ready and
anxious for the action to begin. The element I am most nervous about is being
able to get a clear image from my race location.
|
Alex Tagliani, Ryan Briscoe, Graham Rahal, Ed Carpenter and Raphael Matos are
among the cars lining up for the start of the 94th "Indianapolis 500" on May 30,
2010.
|

zoom image
I did not start doing 35 mm race photography until 1981, which is
about the time racing began to make great progress in safety. In the years
before however, there was always a violent atmosphere on "Indy 500" race
morning. It was always sort of a we cannot turn back now feeling of dread --
like I wasn't ready for it yet -- not knowing whether death on the track awaited
us or not. Perhaps this pall of impending doom that I associated with the
"Indianapolis 500" in the 1960s came naturally. My initial exposure to the "500"
was the radio broadcast of the 1955 race which claimed the life of the first
race driver I was aware of -- Bill Vukovich.
My third trip to the "500" came in 1958. There was a multi-car
first lap crash in turn three that killed Pat O'Connor. I can still feel the
chill when I remember Tom Carnegie coming on the IMS public address to tell us
in a somber voice the Speedway regretted to announce Pat O'Connor was fatally
injured. My first reaction was to ask my dad, who took me to the race, what that
meant. My father looked away from me when he told me O'Connor had died. In the
immediate years after 1958, my big hope was that my favorite racer Tony
Bettenhausen would come through the race alive. Even if Bettenhausen fell out of
the race, I was disappointed but also somewhat relieved.
On May 30, 1964, the overwhelming sense of danger was still the
leading emotion as I waited for the 48th "Indianapolis 500" to start. My stomach
was so tied up in knots that day I gagged several times and my friends thought
that was hilarious. Eating before the "500" was unthinkable. About thirty
minutes before the start of the 94th race last May 30, I consumed a couple
bratwursts before going to my seat. In 1964, I would not even think of food
until hours after the race ended. Another race day trait back in 1964 was that I
would walk as fast as I could through the crowds in a frantic attempt to get to
my seat, even though in those days I often arrived at the Speedway by 8:30 AM, a
full 2 1/2 hours before the start of the race. In 1964, it was closer to 9:30
AM. My pre-race ritual was running behind schedule. I left Bill, Dave and Jim
far behind and did not see them for several minutes until we all met at our
seats in Grandstand B.
What can I say? I am obsessive and compulsive by nature anyway.
When you placed me, a 17 year old high school student, in the middle of the most
dramatic and important moment of the year, with electricity filling the air like
an impending thunderstorm storm and the prospect of doom constantly reminding us
it might be waiting in turn one, my obsession and compulsion increased 10,000
fold.
Bill Correll and I attended the "Indianapolis 500" together for
four years beginning with the 1964 race and then we were together in later years
again in 1983 and 2000. On May 30, 1964, we started a three year tradition of
walking north from our Grandstand B seats up to the concrete retaining wall,
which in 1964 was approximately three foot high, and watching the cars being
pushed on to the grid. Prior to 1974, there were box seats located within a foot
of the wall and Bill and I went as close to the track as we could get. Bill was
always more interested in the people at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway than the
cars or for that matter the race. He would later become a very successful real
estate broker in Carmel, Indiana and perhaps that explained why he was more
interested in the demographics of the racers than the competitive circumstances
and story lines.
When the Team Lotus crew pushed Jim Clark's pole winning Lotus -
Ford number 6 to the grid, it was resplendent. The wheels were painted in day
glow yellow which complemented the dark British racing green that covered the
car and pale yellow stripe and nose on the Lotus 34. A white circle with a black
number 6 was freshly painted on the nose. Those race day flourishes enhanced the
look of the Lotus and made me even more excited for a Jim Clark win.
A group of assembled racing media in Indianapolis for the race
had been polled on May 29 and Marshman received the most votes as probable race
winner with Clark a close second and the remaining votes spread among Ward,
Jones, Foyt, Gurney and Bobby Unser in the Ferguson Novi. That Marshman got more
votes did not deter me from thinking it was going to be Clark's day.
In the thirty minutes leading up to the start, I pissed,
smoked my final pre-race cigarette and said my customary prayers, which I have
done prior to the start of every "Indianapolis 500" I have attended since. Back
then I resolved not to smoke during the "Indy 500," treating the race as if I
were in church; a religious experience.
|
The "Indianapolis 500" field lines up behind the Ford Mustang pace car on May
30, 1964. |

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
The sun was shining and it was clear and cool. The high
temperature that day was sixty eight degrees. The Speedway was jammed with the
largest "Indianapolis 500" crowd to that time and as the Ford Mustang pace car
rushed into the pits, Clark brought the 33 cars to Pat Vidan's green flag and
the race was on -- for better or worse.
Clark rushed into turn one with Parnelli Jones immediately
behind, from the inside of row two, with Marshman, Ward and Foyt following.
Marshman passed Parnelli for second and Clark jumped to a big lead with a record
speed of 149.775 mph as he completed lap one. The dark green and yellow Lotus -
Ford number 6 was even faster on lap two, as the Scot exceeded 154 mph. Clark
raced into turn one with Marshman a couple seconds behind and Ward even further
back, followed by Gurney. A huge explosion erupted at the north end of the main
straightaway. It looked like early 1950s film footage of atomic bomb testing and
in the seconds which followed, the horrifying flames and a monstrous cloud of
black smoke engulfed the north half of the track.
My first thought was the grandstands were on fire and everyone
was in immediate danger, perhaps a much larger scale blast than had occurred the
previous Halloween October 31, at the Indiana State Fair Coliseum, when a leak,
from a propane tank in a concession stand, ignited an explosion underneath seats
where the public was viewing the closing moments of an ice skating program. The
Coliseum blast blew human bodies sixty feet into the air. The morning following
the Coliseum tragedy, the front page of The Indianapolis Star featured a photo
showing the body of a victim without shoulders and a head. That disaster killed
74 people. Three weeks later, President John F. Kennedy was murdered in Dallas.
Violence seemed to be ever present during that period. If something like the
explosion at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on May 30, 1964 happened today, the
first reaction would be that a terrorist attack had taken place.


It was the most frightening moment I ever witnessed at any race
in the fifty five years I have been attending motor sports events. There was
mass confusion and hundreds of thousands of people were screaming and shouting
at the top of their voices. Then after several moments, the clouds of black
smoke began to dissipate in the Indiana sky. I wonder what people a few miles
from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway thought when they saw the smoke. The fires
continued to burn on the track and we heard Tom Carnegie shouting over the
public address. The race was being stopped. It was the first time in history the
"Indianapolis 500" was halted for a crash.
After several moments, the black smoke from the crash was
replaced by billowing clouds of fire extinguisher. The cars of Clark, Marshman
and the other leaders cruised to a stop at the sound end of the straightaway and
parked. The atmosphere became surreal. Dave, Bill and Jim (better known as Ace)
and I looked at each other puzzled and confused like the most of the rest of the
record crowd at the Speedway, questioning what we had just witnessed. There was
mayhem all around us. Then suddenly a collective hush took control as if the
crowd was unsure how to react or what to do.
We looked up the track and saw racing crew members and drivers
standing in groups trying to reconstruct what had happened on lap two of the
1964 "Indianapolis 500." There was very little commentary over the public
address for several minutes and no report about what had happened at the north
end of the Speedway. There might have been some vague references to some of the
cars involved in the second lap crash but little else.
There was still general confusion in the crowd around me, at the
south end of the main straightaway forty minutes after the race was stopped.
People spoke quietly if at all and I did not see anyone get out of their seats.
Then I heard Tom Carnegie's voice, using the same solemn tone as on May 30,
1958, when he announced to the crowd that Pat O'Connor had been killed. "Ladies
and gentlemen, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway regrets to announce that driver Eddie
Sachs was fatally injured." What followed was almost like a momentary collective
expression of disbelief and then sadness from the IMS crowd.
Bill, Dave, Ace and I all looked at each other after the
announcement and my biggest day of the year ceased to be fun. Some people got up
from their seats, packed their picnic baskets and coolers and left the Speedway.
Death had visited the "Indianapolis 500" for the twenty ninth time. A pall
covered IMS and the sunshine went behind the clouds.
Over the next few moments, once the death of Eddie Sachs had been
announced, Carnegie began to report some of the details of the second lap crash
and which cars had been involved. Seven cars were eliminated from the race;
those driven by Johnny Rutherford, Chuck Stevenson, Dave MacDonald, Sachs,
Ronnie Duman, Bobby Unser and Norm Hall. I started remembering Eddie Sachs'
racing career in my mind now that he had paid the ultimate price in his search
for victory in the "Indianapolis 500."
Eddie Sachs turned 37 two days before his death. Sachs was
perhaps on on the downside of his career as one of the top race drivers in the
U.S. in May 1964. He was no longer a full time competitor, although he did
compete at early season races in Phoenix and Trenton. Sachs made the decision to
reduce his racing schedule after finishing third in the 1962 "Indianapolis 500."
Prior to that however, Sachs was one of the most popular and visible competitors
on the Indy car scene. He scored eight Indy car race wins and was the 1958 USAC
Midwest Sprint Car champion as well as winner of the prestigious "Hoosier
Hundred," held each September at the Indiana State Fairgrounds, the second
richest stop on the Indy car schedule in the 1950s and early 1960s.
Sachs, a native of Allentown, Pennsylvania, had a friendly,
outgoing personality and loved to mix humor with his approach to racing. Sachs
qualified second for his first "Indy 500" in 1957 and two years later, started
the 1959 "500" from the same position. Eddie qualified for pole position at the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 1960 and 1961. He was considered the odds on
favorite to win in 1961, at the wheel of his Wayne Ewing Watson roadster copy
Dean Van Lines Special. Eddie made an emotional statement in the days leading up
to the 1961 race that if he won the "500," he would retire from the sport.
The 1961 "Indianapolis 500" was the fiftieth anniversary of the
"greatest spectacle in racing" - the forty fifth running of the race. For many,
the most important story line was the entry of two time World Champion Jack
Brabham and his rear engine Cooper - Climax. From a technical point of view,
Jack Brabham's Cooper was one of the most significant entrants in the history of
the "Indy 500." The 1961 race also featured one of the all time classic battles
for victory and that competition created a new star who ranks among the greatest
racers ever.
A.J. Foyt attended the 1956 "Indianapolis 500" the same way I
did. He sat in the grandstands too. He came to the Midwest from Houston, Texas
the following year, a handsome, unheralded twenty two year old. Driving a shit
box of a race car, Foyt finished ninth on the dirt mile at Springfield, Illinois
in his Indy car racing debut. Foyt showed up at seven more races in 1957,
although he was too slow to qualify in three of those races.
The young Texan caught the attention of Clint Brawner, who
prepared the Dean Van Lines race cars for three time Indy car champion Jimmy
Bryan. Bryan was leaving the Dean Van Lines cars after four successful seasons
and three Indy car championships with Brawner, to drive the 1957 "Indy 500"
winning Belond Special that was vacated by winner Sam Hanks, who announced his
retirement as a racer in Victory Lane at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway the
previous May.
Foyt and Brawner paired for thirteen Indy car races in 1958,
including A.J.'s rookie run in the "Indianapolis 500," where he crashed in turn
one, after 148 laps, to place sixteenth. Foyt finished the season strong with a
third place at Sacramento and a fourth in the season finale on the dirt at the
old Phoenix mile. Al Dean, the owner of the Dean Van Lines cars, purchased a new
Eddie Kuzma roadster for 1959 and Foyt finished tenth in the "Indianapolis 500."
One week later, A.J. finished third at Milwaukee. At the Phoenix dirt mile, in
October, the Texan took second to Tony Bettenhausen.
For 1960, George Bignotti, who was a rising Indy car star
himself, persuaded Foyt to leave Clint Brawner and the Dean Van Lines cars, for
the Bowes Seal Fast Specials entered by Bignotti and his partner Bob Bowes. A.J.
started the 1960 season with a fourth place finish at Trenton, behind Rodger
Ward, Tony Bettenhausen and Jim McWithey. Six days following the 1960 "Indy
500," Foyt finished second to Rodger Ward at Milwaukee. Foyt was out after 19
(of 100) laps with steering problems at Langhorne shortly after Jimmy Bryan was
killed racing into turn one. A.J. spun out on the first lap at Springfield. Foyt
redeemed himself at Milwaukee, finishing second to Len Sutton.
On Labor Day September 5, 1960, in his 34th Indy car start, at
the age of 25, A.J. Foyt won the first of 67 Indy car racing victories, on the
dirt mile at DuQuoin, Illinois, beating Tony Bettenhausen. The following
Saturday, Foyt finished third behind Bobby Grim and Tony Bettenhausen in
Syracuse, New York.
I was at the Indiana State Fairgrounds on September 17,
1960 to see the "Hoosier Hundred." A.J. Foyt was victorious, once again beating
my hero Tony Bettenhausen. I was surprised when I heard that Foyt won at
DuQuoin. Certainly I was aware of A.J. and thought of him as a regular, one of a
large group of second tier competitors, promising and on the way up but not one
of the upper level drivers such as Rodger Ward, Jim Rathmann, Tony Bettenhausen
and Eddie Sachs. After seeing how easily he won at the State Fairgrounds dirt
mile, my awareness of A.J. Foyt rose considerably.
Foyt finished third at Trenton, behind Eddie Sachs and Rodger
Ward. Then A.J. won the season's two final events while his nearest competitor
Rodger Ward finished seventeenth and thirteenth respectively. The late season
surge pushed Foyt past Ward 1680 to 1390 points and there was a new 25 year old
Indy car champion.
The 1960 Indy car season had seen the loss of not only Jimmy
Bryan but Johnny Thomson, one of the most talented and fastest drivers of the
time. Obviously the rise of A.J. Foyt came at a good time for the sport. Jim
Rathmann did not run on the dirt mile ovals that comprised most of the Indy car
schedule in those days. Jim Hurtibise and Foyt were the young guys on the rise
hoping to fill the void along with a rookie driver from Torrance, California by
the name of Parnelli Jones and to challenge the perrenial veterans Rodger Ward,
Jim Rathmann, Tony Bettenhausen and Eddie Sachs
The opening race of the 1961 Indy car season was on April 9, 1961
at the paved Trenton mile. Eddie Sachs won, followed by Jim Hurtibise, Troy
Ruttman, Dick Rathmann and Foyt. Sometime around the end of April, 1961, I was
at Steve Schern's house and he had the latest edition of Hot Rod magazine. On
the cover was a color photo of Foyt sitting in his new Indy ride, an A.J. Watson
roadster copy built by veteran "Indy 500" mechanic Floyd Trevis. Bignotti was
standing alongside the new Bowes Seal Fast Special, which looked gorgeous in
pearl, metallic red and black, with a large pearl number 1 on the nose.
My May 1961 was destroyed by the death of my hero Tony
Bettenhausen in a practice crash at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on Friday
May 12. The rest of the month was a half hearted attempt to follow the activity
at the Speedway. Eddie Sachs seemed like an appropriate "500" champion to me as
my dad, mom and I drove inside the Speedway to park on race morning May 30,
1961. It was a perfect day with beautiful sunshine and temperatures in the low
seventies.
Going over the list of potential winners in 1961, I looked at
Sachs, Rodger Ward, 1960 "500" winner Jim Rathmann, Speedway track record holder
Jim Hurtibise and exciting rookie Parnelli Jones. I did not consider Foyt
however. A.J. qualified seventh. Based upon his surprise 1960 Indy car
championship, I knew he was a talented driver, but all of his wins had come on
dirt ovals and to that point, he had yet to show strength at the Speedway.
To commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the "500," the winner
of the inaugural race in 1911 Ray Harroun drove his winning Marmon Wasp around
the Speedway in ceremonies before the race started. I was feeling a huge letdown
without Tony Bettenhausen, who was killed in practice eighteen days earlier. The
thought that kept running through my mind was the fastest car in the race was
the number 5 Lindsey Hopkins Autolite Special Epperly - Offy being driven by
Lloyd Ruby. That was Tony Bettenhausen's car; probably the best car he ever had
for the "Indianapolis 500." It should have been Tony's year to finally win the
"Indy 500" in his fifteenth attempt.
When the "Golden Anniversary" 1961 "Indianapolis 500" got
underway, Jim Hurtibise grabbed the lead from the outside of the front row on
the first lap in his yellow Demler Special number 99. This was a laydown Offy
roadster built by Quinn Epperly for the 1958 "Indy 500," featuring a small,
somewhat strange looking fin on the rear of the car. The car had an excellent
record at the Speedway. George Amick finished second in the 1958 race in the
car. Paul Goldsmith was fifth and third in 1959 and 1960 respectively in the
same yellow Demler 99.
Hurtibise was flying during the early laps of the 1961 "500."
Bill Cheesbourg, Eddie Sachs and Rodger Ward took turns taking the chase to the
Speedway one and four lap qualifying record holder Hurtibise. The 28 year old
native of North Tonawanda, New York looked mighty however and began lapping back
markers by lap 20.
I had not been as excited about Hurtibise's unexpected track
record (149.601 mph) on the final day of qualifications for the 1960
"Indianapolis 500" as a lot of other race fans were at the time. After he
shocked the racing world with his record run, Jim Hurtibise became an instant
crowd favorite. My racing mentor Steve Schern was a big Hurtibise fan. Hurtibise
seemed half crazy the way he drove. He worried me the way he raced in an erratic
fashion -- but I also realized he was good. When he was out of the race car, he
often wore a straw cowboy hat, with a shit eating grin spread across his face.
Throughout the years he raced, Jim Hurtibise acquired the reputation of a
crackpot and he was known to drink too many beers on a regular basis.
I was cutting the grass at my parents' home, in Carmel, Indiana,
on Sunday May 22, 1960, in a rush to finish the job before it rained. I felt a
tap on my back and looked around to see Steve Schern, my all time racing mentor
and my number one race buddy at that time. He had a big smile on his face and
started telling me about Jim Hurtibise's qualification run. Steve was as excited
as any time I ever saw him.
After thirty laps of the 1961 "Indianapolis 500," Hurtibise had a
six second lead on Rodger Ward, with 1960 "500" winner Jim Rathmann running
third, followed by Parnelli Jones, Eddie Sachs, A.J. Foyt and Len Sutton.
Rathmann began to catch second place Ward and eventually passed his rival from
the previous two years. His blistering pace had taken a toll on his tires and
Hurtibise came to the pits on lap 36, relinquishing the lead to Rathmann. When
Hurtibise came out of the pits after a fast 24 second pit stop, he fell to
seventeenth place.
Before the other leaders made their pit stops, rookie Parnelli
Jones grabbed the lead on lap 42 and three laps later, Sachs went by to take the
lead for the first time since the start of the race. After 48 laps, Jim Rathmann
lost power in turn four and limped into the pits to retire with magneto
problems. The first and second place cars of Sachs and Jones then came into the
pits for scheduled stops.
Within a few moments, Don Davis spun at the south end of
the main straightaway, got out of his race car and walked across the track to
the pits in in a daze, oblivious to the cars approaching at 180 mph. Within
seconds a group of cars descended on the Davis car and a four car pileup that
involved Bill Cheesbourg, Roger McCluskey, A.J. Shepherd and Jack Turner, who
flipped violently, unfolded in front of the pits.
After 50 laps, Sachs led Jones, Foyt, Sutton, Troy Ruttman, Eddie
Johnson and Ward. A few laps later, Sutton spun in turn one while the field was
under yellow, but Len was able to continue. Ten laps later, at the 60 lap mark,
Parnelli Jones led Foyt, Sachs, Sutton, Ward, Ruttman, Rathmann, Boyd, Hurtibise
and Shorty Templeman while the race was still under caution from the big crash.
The caution lights were on for twenty one laps. When the race
restarted, Jones led with Foyt challenging for the lead. On lap 76, Foyt passed
Parnelli to run at the front for the first time at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Within a
few laps, 1952 "Indy 500" winner Troy Ruttman passed Jones for second and went after
the leader Foyt.
Parnelli began to slow his pace and fell out of contention,
eventually coming into the pits. Hurtibise also began to experience problems and
pitted. Ruttman passed Foyt for the lead on lap 84. The personality of the race
began to change as problems began to occur to some of the early leaders. Ruttman
and Foyt had a tight battle and exchanged the lead on consecutive laps beginning
on the 89th circuit.
Foyt eased off for a few laps and then made another charge at the
leader Ruttman and regained first place on lap 95. Eddie Sachs was sitting
comfortably in third place, followed by Rodger Ward. When the field passed the
100 lap 250 mile halfway point, Foyt was running a couple seconds in front of
Ruttman, with Sachs and Ward following.
Parnelli Jones was hit by a wheel nut and he was cut severely
above the eye which filled his goggles with blood. This caused Parnelli's
Agajanian number 98 to slow for a few laps and Jones fell off the pace, after
declining relief from Jim Rathmann.
Hurtibise's car 99 lost a piston and he was out after 102 laps.
Troy Ruttman's number 52 John Zink Special retired after 105 laps with clutch
problems. This left Foyt, Sachs and Ward at the head of the pack as the battle
for victory began to take shape, with the three top mechanical talents in Indy
car racing in 1961, George Bignotti, Clint Brawner and A.J. Watson watching from
the pits while their drivers Foyt, Sachs and Ward battled on the track.
As the race moved into the second half, Foyt began to stretch his
lead and by lap 110, he had fifteen seconds on the field. After the leaders
stopped at the pits for fuel and tires, Foyt led Sachs by seven seconds with
Ward another seven seconds farther back. Then on lap 120, Eddie's Dean Van Lines
Special began to close on the leading Bowes Seal Fast Special. Ward's Leader
Card entry moved within 12.5 seconds of the leader Foyt.
Sachs picked it up even more and pulled right behind Foyt and
passed A.J. on lap 125. The Texan kept up the fight however and remained close.
After 130 laps, Sachs led Foyt, Ward, Dick Rathmann, Paul Goldsmith, Shorty
Templeman, Chuck Stevenson, Al Keller, Bob Christie and Jack Brabham. The
Australian's Cooper - Climax looked strange -- the only rear engine car on the
track.
Foyt grabbed the lead from Sachs on lap 138 but Eddie took it
back the next time around. The intensity of the fight for first place between
Sachs and Foyt saw both drivers circling the Speedway in excess of 147 miles per
hour. Three laps later, A.J. regained the lead. The race was developing into a
classic struggle at this point as Foyt's pearl, red and black car fought Eddie's
pure white Dean Van Lines number 1. I remember thinking to myself as I watched
Foyt's car was that it resembled a peppermint candy cane as it sparkled in the
bright Indiana early afternoon sunshine.
Those old Indy roadsters were great looking cars. There wasn't
much advertisement on them. Some decals were displayed. The decals were
advertisement from accessory firms who provided free spark plugs, motor oil,
piston rings, hoses and shock absorbers in exchange for display on the race
cars. Aside from that, since most of the cars were entered by sportsman and
racing enthusiasts, with their names scripted on the engine cover, the cars were
often painted in exotic colors like the pearl and candy apple red on Foyt's car
or the bright rose pink featured on the winning John Zink Specials that carried
Bob Sweikert to victory in 1955 and Pat Flaherty in 1956.
The Sachs - Foyt battle was very reminiscent of the previous
year's fight between Jim Rathmann and Rodger Ward in the 1960 "Indy 500." Eddie
and A.J. were racing each other so hard that Ward fell off the pace and dropped
twenty seconds behind the leading duo. Sachs motioned to the rear of his car as
he passed his Dean Van Lines crew in the pits and Foyt regained the lead on lap
152.
As Foyt and Sachs continued their contest, Ward fell thirty
seconds behind them. Sachs made his final scheduled stop of the race in 27
seconds while Foyt stayed on track until lap 161 when he came to the pits.
George Bignotti and the Bowes Seal Fast crew rushed to get A.J. out but they had
trouble disconnecting the fuel hose and the stop lasted 31 seconds. This placed
Ward, who had yet to pit, in first place for the first time in the race. Behind
Rodger, Sachs had about 100 yards on Foyt after both had made their stops.
Ward held a twelve second advantage, while Foyt chased Sachs and
then caught and passed the number 12 car, waving at Eddie as he went by into
second place. Sachs retaliated by passing Foyt. Ward finally pitted on lap 168,
receiving quick service from his Leader Card Racers crew with a 24 second stop.
Sachs took over the lead but Foyt passed him again on lap 170.
A.J. charged with laps in excess of 147 mph and began to pull
away from Sachs while Ward dropped back forty six seconds from the leaders. With
only twenty laps remaining, Foyt pulled out 3.5 seconds on Sachs. During Foyt's
earlier stop however, he did not receive a full supply of fuel and though A.J.
lapped Ward, chief mechanic George Bignotti realized the Bowes car would have to
come in for fuel before the end of the race.
There were only ten other cars still running with Foyt, Sachs and
Ward. Those still racing were Ward, Shorty Templeman, Al Keller, Chuck
Stevenson, Bobby Marshman, Lloyd Ruby, Jack Brabham, Norm Hall, Gene Hartley and
Parnelli Jones, each one lap behind the two leaders.
As I wrote earlier, Foyt seemed to me to be an unlikely contender to win the
"Indianapolis 500" as the final laps of the race passed. I wanted Sachs to catch
Foyt. Eddie seemed a legitimate "Indy 500" winner while A.J. had not earned the
right to take the number one prize in racing -- or so I thought at the time.
|
A.J. Foyt (car 1) and Eddie Sachs (number 12) had one of the most ferocious
battles in history for "Indianapolis 500" victory on May 30, 1961. |

|
courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
On lap 184, Foyt rushed into the pits and he overshot his stall
before his crew splashed enough fuel into car number 1. I felt pleased from my seat inside the main straightway as Sachs went by to take the
lead and a thirty second advantage with only sixteen laps to go. The fueling
mechanism in the Bowes Seal Fast pit was faulty and the crew borrowed a rig from
their neighbors on pit road that belonged to the car 8 driven by Len Sutton, who
had dropped out after 110 laps with transmission problems.
As the race passed the 190 lap mark, Sachs held a 27 second lead
over Foyt. Eddie looked set to win for Clint Brawner and Al Dean, who only two
years earlier had watched another Dean Van Lines Special driven to tenth place
by A.J. Foyt. Now, after coming close to "Indy" victory but not achieving it in
four years with the late Jimmy Bryan, they were waiting out the final laps with
their car in first place.
With the race in hand, Sachs eased his pace and appeared to be
cautiously approaching "500" victory. All of the sudden, on lap 198, Sachs
slowed and raced into the pits for fresh tires and Foyt went by to regain the
lead. Eddie rushed back to the track in a desperate attempt to catch A.J. It was
a futile effort however, as Foyt took the checkered flag 8.28 seconds in front
of Sachs for the second closest finish in "Indianapolis 500" history.
A humble 26 year old A.J. Foyt seemed surprised when he was
interviewed in Victory Lane. Indianapolis Motor Speedway president Tony Hulman
was pleased that Foyt, who had already become a family friend, had taken his
first "Indy 500" win. One of the greatest careers in racing history took flight
on May 30, 1961. Meanwhile Sachs accepted his defeat graciously but was
obviously heartbroken at his failure to win the "greatest spectacle in racing."
Eddie stopped with certain victory only three laps away when he saw excessive
wear on his front tires. This was the same situation that occurred one year
earlier when race leader Rodger Ward pitted with three laps remaining for the
same reason -- tire wear. Some speculated that Sachs made the decision to stop
because he had promised his wife he would quit racing if he were to win the 1961
"500" and he wasn't ready to retire.
|
A.J. Foyt watches his race cars while they practice for the 94th "Indianapolis
500" on May 15, 2010. |

Three years later to the day, after Eddie Sachs' most notable
racing accomplishment, that of losing to A.J. Foyt in one of the greatest
battles for victories in "Indianapolis 500" history, he lost his life trying
to capture the same prize. Eddie Sachs was dead. It was always very difficult to
accept the death of a well known racing driver back in those days even though it
occurred so frequently. On May 30, 1964, it was hard to come to the reality that
Eddie Sachs was no longer on planet Earth.
The crowd surrounding my three buddies and I stood quietly, in shock,
for a long time after Tom Carnegie's announcement that Sachs had perished. Dave,
Bill, Ace and I said little. At first slowly and then with more definition, the
tragic details of the lap two crash began to be revealed. I only caught the
explosion, a half mile away from where I was standing, out of the corner of my
eye because I was watching Jim Clark at the front. I did not know what happened
in the crash.
Click to look at
this violent video footage of the big crash on the second lap of the 1964
"Indianapolis 500." It brings back the horror of that day.
Coming off turn four, Dave MacDonald's Mickey Thompson Sears Allstate Special
got sideways and slid to the inside at the north end of the track. There was
speculation that either something broke on MacDonald's car or air got underneath
and the driver lost control of the steering; what used to be called negative
lift in the days when race car designers were first discovering aerodynamics.
Looking at the video footage, MacDonald did not appear to spin but rather slide
full speed into a concrete retaining wall which ran on angle from the track.
When MacDonald's car hit the inner wall, it exploded in flames. Ford Motor
Company officials mandated their new DOHC V8 engine run on high octane pump
gasoline. The only Ford powered car, of the seven starting the race, to disobey
Ford and run methanol was the A.J. Watson creation driven by Rodger Ward.
Gasoline is many times more combustible than methanol, which ignites almost
invisibly. Fuel cells did not appear in racing until the following year, as a
result of the crash in the 1964 "500."
The force of MacDonald's car, full of fuel, at a speed in excess of 150 miles
per hour, caused the gasoline to explode with horrifying violence.
After hitting the wall, the MacDonald car bounced back on to the
track and clipped Bobby Unser's Novi. Johnny Rutherford, who was behind Unser,
went over the top of MacDonald's car. MacDonald continued sliding to the outside
of the track and had almost come to a stop when Eddie Sachs hit the Mickey
Thompson car broadside, causing a second huge explosion that was nearly as
violent as the fire from MacDonald's initial hit. A lemon which Eddie had in his
mouth was later found in the driver seat in Rutherford's car. Had there not been
so much fire and smoke blocking his view, Sachs might well have avoided
MacDonald's car. Ronnie Duman's car was on fire and hit the inside wall. The
cars driven by Norm Hall and Chuck Stevenson were also damaged in the accident.
In all seven cars were eliminated in the crash.


My buddies and I began to talk about the crash. We
wondered if Sachs had burned to death but later reports stated Eddie was killed
upon impact with MacDonald's car. I think it might have been the first time any
of them had seen a fatal crash at a race in person and like me, they were deeply
affected by how frightening racing could be.
Empty seats around us were visible and quite a few people left after the Sachs
announcement. Arguably the most anticipated "Indianapolis 500" in several years
had been reduced to a secondary story in terms of the potential competition that
had yet to take place. Death would forever be the largest headline whenever the
1964 race is remembered.
There were still 198 laps to run however and the historic confrontation
between the old front engine "Indy" roadster and the new rear engine cars for
supremacy at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was still to be decided. I was
convinced this would be Jim Clark's day. Obviously the pageantry of an hour and
45 minutes earlier was gone, but the battle still had to be fought.
After one hour and forty five minutes, the racers brought their nerves
under control and set about preparing for the task at hand. There were
undisclosed reports that several of the 26 drivers still in the race had to be
literally coaxed back into their race cars, so frightened they were by the
deadly crash and the huge fire. Others put their helmets back on determined to
get on with the race.
There is a photo of Jim Clark sitting in his number 6 Lotus Powered by Ford (I
wish I could find it to post here),
waiting for the race to resume, while his Team Lotus crew stands nearby. A few
yards behind Clark's leading car is Bobby Marshman sitting in his car 51 Pure
Firebird Special, surrounded by the Lindsey Hopkins crew headed by Jack Beckley.
In my mind, the race was going to be Clark versus Marshman. As far as I was
concerned, the remaining 24 cars and drivers were all pretenders. Clark had been
able to pull away from Marshman at the start of the race by shifting into a
lower gear. During the break, I replayed the start several times in my mind and
felt concern about Marshman.
Clark's dark green Lotus - Ford number 6 resumed its charge when the race
resumed. By lap five, Jimmy was lapping back markers. However when the Scotsmen
got caught up in the lapped traffic, Marshman rushed past to grab the lead on
lap seven. The next lap, Bobby had a three second advantage on Clark. At this
point, Ford powered cars ran one two three four, with Dan Gurney and Rodger Ward
following Marshman and Clark. Meanwhile Parnelli Jones and A.J. Foyt were
engaged in their own battle for fifth place in their Offy roadsters.
Gurney pitted on lap 19 with a fuel tank selector problem and dropped to
fifteenth. Walt Hansgen, in the rear engine Offy powered Huffaker MG liquid
Suspension Special, moved to sixth place. Marshman was flying, running at a pace
as fast as 155 mph. On lap 25, Bobby was fourteen seconds ahead of Clark. By lap
30, he held a 23 second advantage. I took notice and it bothered me that
Marshman was running so much faster than Clark. My three buddies also saw what
was happening on track and started to tease me that my driver was being beaten
and they were correct. Marshman was clearly faster than Clark.
Marshman was racing all over the track as he overtook the field. He
was going low in the corners -- down to the grass at times -- and it eventually
caught him as he ran over debris, broke an oil line and slowed. Bobby retired
from the race and Clark moved back into the lead. Needless to say, I felt a
sense of relief to see Marshman's Pure Firebird Special break down. It was
apparent he had the edge on Jimmy and it was going to be difficult for Clark to
make up that advantage on the track.
Although Clark held a healthy advantage on second place Jones and third place
Foyt, my optimism was short lived. On lap 48, Clark came by my friends and I
with his left rear wheel tilted against the number 6 Lotus - Ford. He skillfully
brought the car to a halt in the turn one infield, out of the race.
Damn -- it was all over! I could not believe it! The chunking that had shown up
on May 18 on the Dunlop tires on the Team Lotus entries when Dan Gurney tested
on full tanks, had struck again. The tread had separated from the left rear tire
on Jim Clark's car and the resulting vibration caused the rear suspension to
collapse. Perhaps Jimmy sensed there was a problem and that is why he let Bobby
Marshman pull away from him when they were racing in the early laps.
I was as disappointed as I had ever been in my nine trips to watch the
"Indianapolis 500." I had been waiting since the 1963 "500" to see Jim Clark win
the race and now it was all over because Colin Chapman had insisted on using
Dunlop tires even though his partners at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Ford
Motor Company, argued in favor of running Firestones. That foolish choice cost
Jim Clark victory on May 30, 1964. I realized it the moment Jimmy brought his
Lotus to a stop in the grass inside turn one. I was as pissed at Colin Chapman
as I had ever been at anyone at a race track. Chapman's big mistake not only
cost Clark but it also was the reason Dan Gurney was brought to the pits on lap
112 for fear the same thing would occur as happened with Clark.
With Marshman and Clark both out, Parnelli Jones took the lead with A.J. Foyt
racing wheel to wheel with number 98 for the next nine laps until the Agajanian
car came to the pits. As Parnelli pulled away, methanol that had spilled on his
car during refueling, ignited. Jones jumped out of the car while it was moving,
with his driving uniform on fire. Safety workers quickly extinguished the fire.
The day was turning into total disaster. In the
meantime the race was essentially handed to A.J. Foyt. Rodger Ward was in second
and his rear engine Ford at times appeared to be faster than Foyt's Offy
roadster. At one point, Ward closed to within twelve seconds but the secret
switch from gasoline to methanol by A.J. Watson resulted in a setup that burned
too much fuel. It wasn't only a fuel miscalculation however. Ward appeared to be
more affected by the lap two tragedy than Foyt. Ward showed his uneasiness about
returning to the race by not extending himself. In the mean time, Foyt moved
forward appearing unaffected by the tragedy on lap two.
I continued to watch but my heart was no longer in the race. Other than Ward,
the remaining rear engine cars were all powered by Offies. After 100 laps, the
order of the top ten was Foyt, Ward, Jim Hurtibise in an Offy roadster, the rear
engine Vollstedt driven by Len Sutton, Lloyd Ruby's roadster, Don Branson's Offy
powered Watson rear engine, Johnny Boyd's roadster, rookie Johnny White in
another roadster, Troy Ruttman and Bud Tingelstad. I wanted to see Ward catch
Foyt to save the day for Ford and the rear engine cars but Rodger had to make
five pit stops while A.J. only stopped twice.
As the race progressed into the second half, Tom Carnegie announced that Dave
MacDonald had died from injuries in the big crash. MacDonald was taken to
Methodist Hospital six miles from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway after the
crash and died a couple hours later. With that announcement, I am confident most
of the record crowd at IMS felt like I did and was ready for the race to be
over. In those days, although I admired A.J. Foyt's skills and had become used
to his constant success, I was not especially happy that he was going to win his
second "Indianapolis 500."
In later years, I mellowed about A.J. Foyt and I was happy to see him win the
"Indy 500" two more times. In 1964 however, I was about as excited to see him
win as NASCAR fans are to see Jimmie Johnson continue to win Cup championships
today. The 29 year old Texan kept lapping the 2.5 mile oval at a speed in the
high 140 mph range and Rodger Ward continued to fall further behind.
The morning sunshine gave way to overcast skies which seemed appropriate given
the mood of the day. Thankfully the race finally came to an end as Foyt took the
checkered flag a full lap in front of Ward to set an average speed record for
the "Indianapolis 500" of 147.350 mph. I watched and felt cheated that not only
did Jim Clark not win but the front engined Offy roadster still ruled the
Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
It was not a good day for the rear engine cars. Of the twelve cars running at the finish, only two
had the engine located behind the driver, Ward's car and the Huffaker - Offy
driven by Walt Hansgen, who actually finished thirteenth, after completing 176
laps. Finishing behind Ward were eight more Offy roadsters, driven by Lloyd
Ruby, rookie Johnny White, Johnny Boyd, Bud Tingelstad, Dick Rathmann, rookies
Bob Harkey and Bob Wente and Bobby Grim, and a Novi driven by famous drag racer
Art Malone.
In 1964 and 1965, fans were allowed to walk the pits freely after the
"Indianapolis 500." Yes, I am serious! By then the cars had all been moved back
into the garage area, but it was still neat to walk the pits. Bill Correll and
Dave Willmuth were ready to leave the Speedway but for whatever reason, I wanted
to hang around. I talked Ace Mace into remaining at the track with me. We told
Dave and Bill we would meet them back at Glendale Shopping Center, where my car
was parked. Then Ace and I walked through the pits and around the 2.5 mile oval.
It's the only time I did that.
During our walk, I continued to express my disappointment about the race and
both Ace and I felt sad about the deaths of Eddie Sachs and Dave MacDonald. We
closely examined the crash site. The track surface showed the scars from the
tragedy which took place several hours earlier. Residue from burning race cars
and foam spray covered the area. All in all, it had been a bad day. We did not
get back to the car, after catching a bus from IMS to Monument Circle downtown
and then riding another bus to Glendale, where Dave and Bill were waiting, for a
couple hours. Bill was pissed off because they had been waiting for Ace and I
and he had to get to his job at the Carmel Dairy Queen. He had good reason to be
mad as I acted like a self centered asshole.
Sports Illustrated
- June 8, 1964
The Magnificent And The
Macabre
by Bob Ottum
At the Indianapolis Speedway and in theaters across the land a vast,
unprecedented audience tensed for the start of the 48th 500-mile race. It had
assembled—some 260,000 persons at the Speedway, another half a million before
theater television screens—to witness a decisive struggle between the
traditional Indy roadsters and swift, insurgent rear-engine cars. But less than
five minutes after the start an exploding smashup snuffed out the life of one
driver and fatally injured another, and from that moment on the race was not to
the swift and car styles did not matter. It became, grimly and awesomely, a
500-mile race of men brave enough to stay in it and see it through.
In the end the winner was A.J. Foyt, of all the drivers the man most unshakably
immune to the clash of cars and the smoke of death. He won driving calmly, icily
at a record average speed of 147.35 mph through an atmosphere of high tension
that made this year's race—more than any other in 500 history—a spectacle of the
magnificent and macabre.
Foyt's brilliant triumph was shadowed by the casualties of the day. A Speedway
rookie, Dave MacDonald, and a veteran, Eddie Sachs, lay dead. Smooth old
professionals, among them the 1963 winner, Rufus Parnell Jones, were sidelined
with injuries and burns. Twenty-one drivers were out of the race in a somber
accumulation of crashes and engine and tire failures; Gasoline Alley was a
clutter of broken cars and on the track a bleak testament to the dead
remained—the powdery white residue of fire-extinguishing foam.
The race raised questions that would certainly alter future 500s, the most
crucial concerning the relative hazards of gasoline as opposed to alcohol fuel.
And it left the dispute over car design still unsettled.
It was Foyt's unbending nerve that brought him out of it the winner. His final
challenger—once Jones was put out of the race by a freakish pit-stop
accident—was Rodger Ward, that steady old fox of the backstretch, usually a
nerveless driver, but so rattled by the chain of accidents that he lost his
chance for victory by making a series of vital mistakes and five pit stops, "two
more than we needed."
"I thought I wasn't getting the fuel to the engine properly," said Ward after
the race, wearily rubbing track grime from his face and looking his 43 years.
"But I was running the fuel mixture too rich and burning it away. The first time
I found I was out of fuel I couldn't believe it. The car was capable of
winning—the car should have won—but the driver didn't do a good job."
In winning, Foyt earned $153,650 prize money, the richest purse in 500 history,
and took a long lead toward his fourth national driving championship. He also
became, against the backdrop of the day's tragedy, the leading spokesman of
racing's old guard, those who cling to Indy's traditional Offenhauser-powered,
alcohol-burning, front-engine roadsters.
"I am sorry those guys died," said Foyt. "We are all sorry they died. That is
racing.
"But I am afraid of those rear-engine cars. I am scared of having all that
gasoline around me in that type of chassis. Why, damn it, you are sitting on
gasoline, you have gasoline on each side of you. Well, I can carry just as much
fuel in my front-engine car—my so-called antique car—with a much greater safety
margin."
Foyt had not been the only one concerned about the safety margin. At the
customary meeting of all drivers the day before the race, Chief Steward Harlan
Fengler had made it a special point. "Gentlemen, please," he said, "remember
that you will be starting the race with heavy loads of fuel, and your cars will
handle differently than when they are light. Be careful out there."
Foyt had not been the only one concerned about the safety margin. At the
customary meeting of all drivers the day before the race, Chief Steward Harlan
Fengler had made it a special point. "Gentlemen, please," he said, "remember
that you will be starting the race with heavy loads of fuel, and your cars will
handle differently than when they are light. Be careful out there."
But on race morning, under a charcoal-gray sky and with a chill wind blowing
across the Indiana plain, thoughts of the dangers of racing were submerged in a
scene of festival gaiety. A band blared, celebrities paraded, a burst of colored
balloons rose from the infield. Then, two minutes after the start of the race,
some five minutes after Speedway President Anton Hulman had barked out his
traditional "Gentlemen, start your engines," the fantastic series of accidents
began.
Scotland's Jimmy Clark, his face taped for protection against the wind, jumped
impressively into the lead from his pole position. His Lotus-Ford is so
low-hanging that it looks like a water bug skimming along the track, and on the
first lap—at a record 149.775 mph—he had pulled in front of the pack by some 200
yards. On the second lap he came whining past in a blur of British racing green
at 154.613 mph. Behind him came disaster.
Twenty-six-year-old Dave MacDonald, a fine sports car man racing his first 500
in a Ford-engined car built by speed merchant Mickey Thompson, suddenly veered
out of control rounding the last turn before the homestretch. He caromed like a
deadly billiard shot off the low walls on both sides of the track, and flame
exploded around him in a puff of orange. In the seconds that followed the race
became a fiery tangle. Six other cars were caught in the path of fire MacDonald
had painted across the track. Some made it through. Eddie Sachs, who had said
before the race, "You will find me out there in the middle of things," did not.
His Ford-engined American Red Ball Special slammed into MacDonald and spun away.
An explosion made an enormous whoosh. Sachs was crushed against his steering
wheel by the violence of the collision and was apparently already dead when fire
engulfed his car. A huge, ragged pillar of black smoke rose above the wreckage.
Not far away Driver Ronnie Duman, his clothing afire, popped out of his burning
Offenhauser, leaped a retaining wall and rolled on the grass to extinguish the
flames. Bobby Unser in a Novi Ferguson, Johnny Rutherford in an Offenhauser and
Chuck Stevenson in an Offenhauser threaded their way to safety.
The race was stopped, the first time ever due to an accident (rain interrupted
the 1926 500). In the next hour, while work crews cleaned the track, the drivers
regrouped on the track opposite the principal grandstand.
Over the public address system came the somber announcement: Sachs was dead. The
crowd stood, uncovered and fell silent in a long moment of tribute. The drivers
froze in a tableau of bright-colored uniforms. An hour and 45 minutes after
MacDonald's fateful slide, the race began again.
But now, chillingly, the atmosphere had changed. The long-awaited battle between
old and new, between Offenhauser and Ford, did not seem so important. The
surviving cars lined up single file for the restart in the order in which they
had been running. Foyt, in fifth place, pulled on red golfing gloves, banging
his fists together like a boxer to tighten them across his knuckles. He rested
coolly in his cockpit, three sticks of gum taped on top of the driveshaft
housing, just below his left arm where he could reach them handily. At the head
of the line Clark looked around at the crowd, at his crew. He fidgeted with his
helmet, finally climbed into the Lotus.
The engines sounded again, and after the inspection lap by the pace car, Clark
sprinted ahead once more. Bobby Marshman made a great rush at him in a 1963
Lotus-Ford that was the track's fastest in practice. He took the lead and poured
it on, pulling away from Clark with astonishing ease. Behind Clark came Ward and
next was Dan Gurney's Lotus-Ford. Those four Fords in front looked unbeatable as
Jones and Foyt struggled in fifth and sixth place to uphold the old guard. On
this day, however, nothing was sure or certain.
With only 40 of the race's 200 laps run, Marshman was out with a ruptured oil
pan. A few minutes later Dave MacDonald died in Indianapolis' Methodist
Hospital. Then Clark's car came down the homestretch with its left rear wheel
cocked up at a crazy angle, sparks spewing from suspension parts dragging on the
track. He fought to control the car for a hair-raising 600 yards and finally
wrestled it safely into the infield.
Ward fell back, Gurney too, and suddenly the Fords had all but had it. Foyt and
Jones were locked in a stirring, savage wheel-to-wheel duel for first place.
This lasted seven laps, then ended abruptly as Parnelli pitted for fuel. His
cheering section waited with a placard: "Parnelli, yes. Lotus, no."
Suddenly, unexplainably (Had fuel spilled on his hot exhaust pipe? Had a spark
ignited the tank when the filler cap was closed?), Jones's car was afire. The
flames rolled out from under the chassis as he pulled away, and he looked back
over his shoulder into a sheet of fire. He bailed out and the car turned into a
torch, slamming into the pit wall while crewmen scrambled away.
It was now 1:35 p.m., 55 laps were in, and Foyt had the lead for good. Ward once
closed to within 12 seconds, but his subsequent pit stops put him out of the
fight. Foyt was more than a lap ahead at the end. Then came Ward, Lloyd Ruby in
an Offy and rookie Johnny White in an Offy. The first four had all broken
Jones's 1963 record of 143.137 mph.
The rush of the slipstream around Foyt had frayed a hole in the right elbow of
his racing uniform and his lips were cracked and raw. "You guys," he rasped to
reporters in his garage, "didn't come right out and say it—but you sort of
hinted I would lose. You thought this so-called antique front-engine roadster
couldn't hack it against the high-powered Fords, against the rear-engine cars."
He shrugged. "We just didn't think the Fords would make it. We couldn't believe
it. We were right."
There was backstage drama as well. On the night before the race, his chief
mechanic, George Bignotti, had been forced to install a new engine in Foyt's car
after the other had developed a strain during practice. And, gambling on not
changing tires (Foyt, on Firestones, was the first winner ever to drive the race
on one set), Bignotti removed the front air-jacks from the car to lighten it.
Indy Champion Foyt looked at his car and the garland of
roses perched crazily over the cockpit. "We are," he mused, "thinking about
something real drastic for next year. We are going to go into streamlining.
Maybe something with an enclosed cockpit. I can't tell you more about it because
I don't know myself what it will look like, but...."
Said Bill Ansted, Indianapolis auto parts millionaire and Foyt's sponsor: "We
will, of course, buy him anything he wants for next year."
Firestone was in the same mood. Within an hour after the race was over, company
officials were standing by with a new contract to test tires. The mercurial
Texan, a Goodyear tester through the past year, had switched on the first day of
qualifying from Goodyears to Fire-stones, then half-switched back and wore a
Goodyear driving uniform in the race. He vowed not to accept Firestone's $7,500
in prize money if he won the race. "We have made out the check," said a
Firestone official. "Whether or not he accepts it is up to him."
The race had other startling aspects. Ford, in lending its powerful new overhead
camshaft engines to private car owners for the race, had kept a tight rein,
specifying that they must run on gasoline during the actual race. Ford, in fact,
had forbidden the crews to tear the engines down and had provided a supply of
fresh, new ones from Detroit as replacements. All seven Fords in the race, said
company spokesmen, had raced on gasoline as ordered. Not so, said A.J. Watson,
the builder of Rodger Ward's car and his chief mechanic. He had, he said, closed
his garage doors to Ford's engineers one night and converted the engine to
alcohol. Ward had burned alcohol during the race.
As for the Lotus-Fords, fuel was not the problem. The engines ran beautifully on
gas. Marshman's trouble was oil. Both Clark and Gurney were put out by mishaps
with their Dunlop tires. The tread began to peel from Clark's left rear tire,
and the resulting vibration, Lotus Builder Colin Chapman said, caused the
suspension to fail. Gurney complained that a tire sounded "funny," had it
replaced and finally was called in for keeps on Chapman's orders.
The stage thus was set for another year of ferment at Indy: design changes were
in the offing, a fight over fuel was shaping up and the tire companies were
squaring away to fight anew.
This year of transition had been the bad one. At breakfast in the
driver-mechanic cafeteria under the grandstand, Mickey Thompson had talked of
his plans for Dave MacDonald and the Sears Allstate Specials. "Why, we'll even
put out a line of Dave MacDonald T shirts," said Mickey, "and sell them through
Sears catalogues. And Dave MacDonald toy racing cars. You know: stuff like that
to make the kid some extra money."
And at nightfall, rumpled, unwashed—still in his suit with the wind-ripped
elbow—winner A.J. Foyt stood talking earnestly in Gasoline Alley. "Looky here,"
he said. "You can't let this get you down, about those guys getting killed. You
got to carry on in racing. Maybe you haven't noticed it about me—but I haven't
got any close friends in racing. You can't let anyone get too close to you in
this game. If they get killed it breaks your heart. And if you are going to race
you have got to race alone."
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*****
A.J. Foyt does not look pleased after qualifying at 154.670 mph on May 16, 1964
for the 48th "Indianapolis 500." Foyt's run placed him fifth on the grid, behind
Parnelli Jones and the three rear engine Fords of Jim Clark, Bobby Marshman and
Rodger Ward.
In the race however, Clark, Marshman and Jones all fell by the wayside and Ward
was unable to match Foyt's pace and A.J. came through the tragedy and wreckage
of the day to emerge with his second "Indy 500" victory. |

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courtesy - Indianapolis Motor Speedway |
The following morning, the headline on the front page of The
Indianapolis Star read FOYT VICTOR IN TRAGIC 500. I think most "Indianapolis
500" fanatics were relieved to see the 1964 race pass into history. However,
despite the unhappy conclusion to May 1964 at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway,
it was one of the most significant months in the history of the "greatest
spectacle in racing." Although the traditional front engine Offy roadster
continued to rule the "Indy 500," the event took a giant leap in terms of public
consciousness. The curiosity over the entrance of the Lotus - Fords and Jim
Clark in 1963 translated into full scale acknowledgement that Indy car
racing and its showcase event would never be the same again. In the process, the
"Indy 500" was instantly transformed from a regional late spring early summer
Midwestern celebration into a world class major league sporting event.
As a postscript to his 1964 "Indianapolis 500" victory, A.J. Foyt
followed up with the most successful season in his legendary career, winning
seven of the ten remaining races on the 1964 Indy car schedule. That gave Foyt a
total of ten wins in thirteen races for the 1964 Indy car season and his fourth
championship. The Texan branched out, winning the "Firecracker 400" NASCAR
classic, on July 4, at Daytona.
The three races that A.J. Foyt did not win in Indy cars in 1964
were won by rear engine cars. Lloyd Ruby won the season finale at the new one
mile Phoenix International Raceway, on November 22, in an Offy powered Halibrand
chassis, similar to the one in which Eddie Sachs had been killed on May 30. The
other two races, at Milwaukee and Trenton, were won by Parnelli Jones, in the
same British racing green Lotus - Ford, driven by Jim Clark at the Indianapolis
Motor Speedway. Parnelli carried number 98 instead of the number 6 on the car
when Clark drove it. Though the car was prepared by the regular Jones crew, it
was still owned by Team Lotus until after the season when Colin Chapman sold it
to J.C. Agajanian for 1965.
After the Dunlop tire disaster, Colin Chapman was summoned to
Ford Motor Company headquarters, where he was berated for the tire decision
which cost Jim Clark "Indianapolis 500" victory. Ford threatened to end their
Indianapolis partnership with Team Lotus in favor of A.J. Foyt or Parnelli Jones
until Chapman revealed plans for an advanced rear engine Lotus specifically
designed for the Speedway he had been planning since first coming to race in the
"500" in 1963. This would become the legendary Lotus 38. Chapman apparently
convinced Ford to remain with Team Lotus for another year but only if the car
raced on Firestone or Goodyear tires and also only if Clark were the driver.
When Jim Clark left Indianapolis after the 1964 "Indy 500," he
expressed some uncertainty about returning in 1965. The fiery lap two crash made
Jimmy aware of the violent potential of racing at the Indianapolis Motor
Speedway and left a negative impression on him. He raced a different Lotus 34
than the one he race at Indianapolis, at Trenton on September 27, but only
qualified seventh and was out after 96 (of 200) laps with a broken drive shaft.
Clark focused on developing the new Lotus 33 Grand Prix car for
the remainder of 1964 and defending his Formula One World Championship. The
Lotus 33 did not make its debut until August 2 in the Grand Prix of Germany.
Clark won in Holland, Belgium and Great Britain, in the Lotus 25 which carried
him to the 1963 World title. New cars from BRM, Brabham and Ferrari proved to be
formidable challengers to Clark and Lotus. Although he was nine and four points
behind his rivals Graham Hill (BRM) and John Surtees (Ferrari) respectively,
Clark was still in the running for the championship at the Grand Prix season
finale in Mexico, on October 25.
Starting from pole, in Mexico, Clark's new Lotus 33 grabbed the
lead at the start and was dominating the race and outpacing his title rivals
Hill and Surtees. As the race entered the final laps, Jimmy looked on his way to
a repeat championship. With seven to go, in the 65 lap race, Clark's Lotus 33
began leaking oil. On the final lap, the Climax engine seized, and he fell to
fifth, handing the championship to Surtees who went by to finish second behind
Dan Gurney's Brabham, while Hill finished two laps behind in eleventh but still
managed to grab enough points to take second in the season final World
standings.
Although he failed to win any Indy cars races in 1964, Bobby
Marshman ran strong and was often A.J. Foyt's leading challenger. Marshman's car
owner Lindsey Hopkins requested a new Lotus from Colin Chapman for 1965 but the
offer was declined. Lotus offered Hopkins another 1964 car for 1965. Hopkins
decided his 1963 Lotus was just as fast and also placed an order for a new Lola
Indy car being built in England by Eric Broadley who decided to become an Indy
car participant in 1965.
Marshman was testing tires at Phoenix (I believe for Goodyear) in
his 1963 Lotus - Ford a few days after the season ending race. He was wearing a
tee shirt, rather than his regular fireproof driving uniform, due to hot
weather. Marshman had a bad crash and his fuel tank ruptured. Bobby died of burn
related injuries on December 4.
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