Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 May 1951 — Page 17

y 29, 1951

HHT!

62d YEAR—NUMBER 88

ces TUESDAY, MAY 29, 1951

The Indianapolis Times

F

SPEEDWAY | SOUVENIR

Entered as Second-Class Matter at Postoffice Indianapolis, Indiana. Issued Dally.

By DUKE NALON TTTING on the pole position for the start of the 500Mile Race this year means more to me than perhaps it can ever mean to any driver. Not alone because a record-breaking run in qualifica‘tion trials—for a time—placed me there. Not alone because pole position is the goal of most drivers who want to achieve that extra something. I am grateful that the Lord has given me the ability — and the confidence—to still drive fast despite my disastrous wreck in the race two years ago. : A driver never knows after he narrawly misses death whether he has lost his nerve . . . “chilled” as we call it. I wanted to find out last year when I came here for the race. But it just wasn't our year with the Novi cars. Mechanical difficulties, which often catch up with the best of them, made it impossible to get to the qualification line early enough to get into the race.

» » » » never lost my confidence. I have always felt—and

particularly after 1 wrecked in a mass of flames— that a power greater than any of us guides the destiny of men. In warmup laps at the Speedway this year I felt I was the same driver who led the race in 1949 before the crash. When I completed my first qualification lap this year at 137.049 miles per hour I knew I wasn't “chilled.” I could feel it was a record, although my pit hadn't advised me. A driver gets to know his car so well that he can judge his speed, even though there’s no speedometer in a race car. When I pulled into the pits at the Close of qualification and was told officially that my first lap was the onelap record and that my 136.498 average for the 10 miles was a qualifying record I silently told myself . , . “this is it,” Later when Walt Faulkner bettered my records I

What The Signal Flags Mean From Start To Finish Of The ‘500’

Stop for

1; 1s itation

didn’t lose confidence in myself or the Novi cars. I take my hat off to “the little guy” for the terrific job he did.

“ » LJ . . -

know I can go faster than 136.498 . . . I feel I could qualify at 140 miles per hour, under the proper conditions. : What will happen in the race, I won't attempt to predict. A man would be foolish to forecast the outcome of any auto race because of the many factors involved in victory . . . or defeat. I feel good about the race. Nothing seems to excite me, nothing worries me. . That is good, because a relaxed race driver is the best iin The relaxed driver has the better chance to win, barring mechanical difficulties that always are an “if” in the best car's chances of victory. Whether the victory “break” will come this year, I can't say. It was one of those “breaks” that first got me into the seat of a race car in 1933. For three years I had been a mechanic’s helper at Roby Speedway, near Chicago, on my off day from my job as a foreman at the Inland Steel Co.

NE day a young fellow whose dad owned a meat mar-

ket came to the track with a new race car with a Ford V-8 engine. When the starter waved the red flag to get the cars off the track at the end of the warmup laps, this young fellow made a U-turn at the end of the straightaway and drove back to the pits in the wrong direction instead of circling the track. Officials told him he didn't know the rules and couldn't drive that day.

“Now, who will we get to drive?” I heard one of the pit crew say. “I'll drive it,” I told them. The crew was skeptical, of course, but a friend came to my aid: “This kid's ‘hot’ , . . been a big timer on the west coast.”

®

%

I hadn't driven before, but I climbed into the car. I

qualified 18th fastest ... and I won the feature race, a 50-mile event. » ” ~ ® » .

Y friend's confidence paid off. A month later I won the 100-mile race at Roby, too, in the same car. That “big break” put me into big league racing. The next year an AAA Contest Board race operator took over Roby and I raced with “the big boys” —Wilbur Shaw, “Wild Bill” Cummings, the late “Shorty” Cantlon, Babe Stapp, to name a few. Always looking for a new thrill, I added midget rac-

ing to my activities that winter in the Chicago Armory. 1 continued to win my share of prize money in the:big

cars and midgets and didn’t run into serious trouble until 1937. That year I had my first wreck. 1t happened at the Tennessee State Fairgrounds in Nashville while I was driving for Floyd Dreyer, of Indiananolis. While I was leading the 25-lap feature, the track became dusty. On the 19th lap it was so dusty I couldn't see ahead. A car spun, I hit it, another car hit me and a second car plowed into me also. Five drivers, including the late Ted Horn, were in the pileup. My left hand and leg were injured and I was in the hospital two weeks. » ~ » » ” » n route to my home in California a month later, I stopped off at Springfield, Mo. to visit the drivers in a race on the half-mile track. Although my hand and leg were still in splints, Floyd Dreyer gave me the chance to drive a new “hot” car he had just built. It was a two-day race meet and I finished second in the 25-lap feature both days. I also set a new track record of 25.80 seconds for the half-mile flat track. The ambition to some day win the 500-Mile Race started in 1935-—my third year as a driver—when I participated in the big one for the first time. I was a riding mechanic for Johnny Sawyer, but we didn't get in the race. Two-men cars were racing in the “500” then.

Vivid blue, orange stripe—Car attempt

Bi PRICE FIVE CENTS

‘ In my first year as a “500” driver—1937—I dr( for Frank Brisko but didn’t qualify. In 1938 I started in the rear and finished 11th. I kept trying year after year but hard luck trailed me and I didn’t finish in the money. CLEA * = =» so a THEN the war, and I exchanged my racing togs for Uncle Sam's uniform and was with the Air Service Command at Wright Field, Dayton, O., as technical representative for the North Africa and China-Burma-India theaters. When the “500” was resumed in 1946, I was on the Scuderia-Milan racing team from Italy with Count Varzi and Count Villoresi. It looked for a time like this race was the one I had dreamed about. I was in fourth place at 113 miles. Then . . . a universal joint “seized up" due to lack of lubrication and I was out of the race. Tough luck came to the “500” with me in 1947, too. Driving the Don Lee Mercedes, a broken piston on the 360th mile forced me out. I'll always remember 1948. It was the year I got the chance to drive one of the Novis after other drivers had been at the wheel. I started in 11th place, was in the lead on the 89th lap. This was my year, 1 thought. Still out in front on the 186th lap, I had to come in for my second refueling pit stop . . . one we hadn’t figured on. I finished third. » = » » » » IN 1949 . . . well, I was on my way to Victory Lane frum the start . .. I was confident of the Novi's power ,, , but fate overtook me on the 24th lap. This year . . . I still have one ambition—to win the 500-Mile Race. My Novi car is capable of doing it.

While I'm going to try hard . ..I don't say I will win, Only the good Lord—who took care of me in 1949—

has that answer.