The Indianapolis Star from Indianapolis, Indiana • Page 1

ill I IM III I II II II Ml. HTW' 'IW'llTTfyOTlli lfH')M rfft f' i VVKATHKK TODAY Partly Sunny High, 58; Low, 38 Yesterday High, 64; Low, 48 The Indian apoli TAR -J. "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is Liberty" Cor. 3:17 VOL. 70, NO.

342 -A SUNDAY, MAY 13, 1973 toe x1; 3 Cirrlw Emtlierfordl Grabs ole Crash In Practice Kills Pollard 65009 Fatal Impact 24 Qualify As New Speed Marks Set Then Broken ...11 By RAY MARQUETTE Records fell like raindrops at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway yesterday in a dramatic day of qualification attempts by the world's fastest race cars that was marred by the tragic death of Art Pollard. mmwmMmmmmm mm Twenty-four of the zippy rear-engined machines posted official speed records that leaves only nine spots open to fill the field for the May 28 500-Mile Race when the trials begin at noon today. JOHNNY RUTHERFORD, the man who came so close to attaining pole position in 1970, got the job done yesterday with a 10-mile average of 198.413 miles ON POLE Y7- Pole-sitter Johnny Rutherford gets a kiss from his wife, Betty, after qualifying with an average speed of 198.413 and a top lap of 199.071 yesterday in his McLaren turbo Offy. (Star Photo) Todaif Prayer Please, dear Lord, give me the ability to love my fellow man, and to understand and pray for those who may hurt me through unkind words or thoughtless deeds. Amen.

Sybil Turn To Page 30, Section 1 Ty-. feT'i I. ''iilwrTff Order Of The Day Gates Open 9 a.m. (EST) Practice 9 a.m. to 11:45.

Time Trials 12 noon to 6 p.m. Admission $2. an hour in his Gulf McLaren. That four-lap figure was almost 3 miles quicker than Bobby Unser had established a year ago and the Fort Worth hustler's third-lap speed of 199.071 mph shattered Bobby '72 record again by almost 3 miles an hour. Rutherford needed every tick of the stop watch as he first wrested the pole away from Swede Savage and his STP Eagle, then held off a last-gasp challenge by none other than Bobby U.

himself who came within 21100ths of a second of reclaiming the official record. THIS WAS A DAY for records, with a crowd, estimated by State Police at more than 275,000 crowding into Tony Hulman's huge playpen of speed in anticipation of the first 200-mph lap in IMS history. The fact that the fantastic 200 wasn't accomplished turned out to be sort of incidental as the 24 qualifiers established a rscord average for the first-day field at 192.741 mph 7.971 mph quicker than the first two dozen of 1971. And those 24 qualifiers fell only one short of the first-day record set in 1967. It was a day that began with Pollard's tragic crash that started in the southwest turn and ended in the southeast corner, rmiking him the 35th driver in Speedway history to lose his life.

BEFORE the huge throng had been informed of Pollard's demise, the search for speed was ready to begin. Not even a brisk and changing wind could dull the crowd's appetite for the magic of that 200 lap. None of the drivers who watched the wind sock wave high above the scoring pylon, figured there was any way 200 miles an hour could be reached on such a day. Peter Rcvson, who sat on the pole in Turn To Page 28, Column 3 apw.r Hon) llif How x4 4 8 Veteran driver Art Pollard's arm protrudes from machine finally came to a stop in the southeast turn his car shortly after the Eagle hit the outside wall of the Speedway. (Photo By Tom Dick) in the first turn yesterday.

The shattering, burning It was 9:37 a.m. yesterday when Art Pollard started through the first turn at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, driving the groove just as he had thousands of time. All of a sudden, his sleek, low-slung Eagle "broke made a quick dart to the right and rammed into the outside retaining wall, about 75 feet from the end of the southwest turn. SIXTY-THREE minutes later, the 46-year-old from Medford, Oregon, became the 35th driver killed at the Speedway. He was pronounced dead in Methodist Hospital of flame inhalation after being taken from the track hospital in the new cardiac ambulance.

The cause of the crash that occurred almost a year to the day after Jim Malloy was killed in a third-turn practice mishap that was remarkably similar to Pollard's may never be known. "Art had been driving the groove at the same spot earlier and seemed to almost lose it, then catch it at the last second," said one witness. "This time, it looked like he was going to go smoothly through the turn when the car suddenly turned right and went into the wall. He couldn't have gone more than 40 feet before he hit and the car simply exploded in a ball of flame and flying parts." THE IMPACT against the outer wall tore the right wheels off the machine. It bounced off and careened a blazing trail down across the track and into the grass of the short chute.

Observers there said the car was bouncing, airborne much of the time, before it suddenly began flipping as it came back onto the race track. It came to a stop right side up about halfway through the second turn after strewing parts and pieces all along the wild, journey. Johnny Rutherford and George Snider were the first drivers on the scene Turn To Page 28, Column 1 I'iijijo of lMi'liiresi Ofhr SloriN in Sports Section a ml on lng 1 SoHioii '1 Art enjoyed talking as much as he did driving and he was a master of the after-dinner speech. He also was a master at organization. Race drivers are, as a group, almost impossible to organize at or away from the track.

But Pollard possessed a knack for getting on the phone and making things happen. Last winter, he was at his best. He began a weekly Thursday night poker game at his apartment that saw Johnny Parsons, John Mahler, Cy Fairchild, Billy Vukovich, Art's friends and neighbors, lose money and enjoy themselves. Then on each Tuesday and Thursday morning, Pollard would got up and begin rousing Parsons, Mahler, Merle Bettcnhauscn and me to go down to the Athletic Club and work out. It was a pleasure to watch Pollard muscle his way around the basketball court for two straight hours, knock a volley ball back and forth for another 90 minutes and finish it up with a welghl-liftlng exhibition that usually sent the steady customers away shaking their heads.

Just this past month, the competition had turned to golf and Art, though not the golfer Vuky or Mahler is, played every hole like it was Augusta. But as competitive as he was, he was always vibrant, even-tempered and hardly ever moody. After he helped me get started racing last summer he told me never to burn any bridges in dealing with people. "You've got to keep the right attitude all the time. When somebody spins and causes you to wreck, don't fly off the handle and try to get back at them, 'cause sooner or later you're i i WRITER RECALLS FRIENDSHIP WITH DRIVER Art Pollard Made Time For People going to make a mistake too," he used to say.

Most of all, tough, Art Pollard never seemed to age. Last summer we went to a concert to hear the Carpenters and he knew almost every song they sang. He always dressed with style, too. But his mental frame of mind was truly a wonder. A year ago, he suffered a broken leg in a crash after qualifying for the race.

That crash probably would have made a lot of guys of 35 quit. But Pollard as a tough cuss. Two hours after they put the cast on, he was scheming on how to get it off in time for the Pocono 500. He finally succeeded and ran strong at Ontario. This May had all the signs of being his best since he drove Andy Granatel- First Row No.

Driver Avg. 7. Johnny Rutherford 198.413 8. Bobby Unser 198.183 66. Mark Donohue 197.412 Second Row 40.

Swede Savage 196.582 5. Gary Bettcnhauscn 195.599 11. Mario Andrettl 195.059 Third Row 24. Steve Krisiloff 194.932 4. Al Unser 194.879 21.

Jimmy Caruthcrs 194.217 Fourth Row 15. Peter Revson 192.606 20. Gordon Johncock 192.555 12. Bobby Allison 192.308 Fifth Row 60. Graham McRae 192.031 3.

Roger McCluskcy 191.928 18. Lloyd Ruby 191.622 Sixth Row 2. Bill Vukovich 191.103 77. Salt Walther 190.739 48. Jerry Grant 190.235 Seventh Row 19.

Mel Krnyon 190.225 62. Wally Dallcnbaih 190.194 98. Mike Mosley 189.753 Eighth Row 73. David Hobbs 189.454 14. A.

J. Foyt 188.927 34. Sam Posey 187.921 li's turbine in 1968. He had a '73 Eagle, two good mechanics and a new sponsor. All during practice he'd been one of the fastest.

He kept telling me, "Man, when things start out smooth and are organized like this operation, you know you're going to do well." He was running 19t-plus yesterday when he crashed. He would have overcome the burns and broken bones, but the flames in his lungs were too deadly. So now he's just another name In the Speedway record book, with an asterisk for being dead. They say, "Well, that's too bad but you got to keep on living." But I can't help feel a part of me and a lot of other people went away yesterday. (UPi Ttiienoio) By ROBIN MILLER When a race driver is killed on the track, the first thing everybody says is, "That's too bad, he was a hell of a guy." In the obituary the next day, his past performances are listed and any otiher worthy achievements are mentioned.

Yesterday Art Pollard left us. Not Art Pollard, the race driver, but Art Pollard, the human bring. This is a personal eulogy. I'm 23 years old. Art was 48 just last Saturday.

But we had as much in common as any two people I know. We had a lot of good times together and in the three years I knew him, he showed me why he was different from most. At 46, he was just hitting fourth gear. For one, he was a grandfather but as youthful as any when it came to standing on a gas pedal. His other uncommon feature was that Art Pollard actually cared, gave a damn If you please, about a bunch of people in this world.

Whether you raced against him, dined with him, laughed with him or just barely knew him, Art Pollard came across as more than an autograph, handshake or wave. In the pressurized world of professional auto racing, most drivers, understandably, have too much on their minds to stop and chat with everyone who calls their names. But Pollard made time for nearly anybody. Whether you were a Boy Scout, a crippled child, a pushy mother demanding an autograph or a drunk wanting to talk to "that old Art Pollard tried to become a part of your world for at least a couple of minutes. And if you don't think that means a lot to people, you are mistaken.

Hick: Is' Kentucky's Rick Mount (30) leaps into the air too soon to block a shot by the Pacers' Don Freeman (13) during first-period action in yesterday's ABA championship game, won 88-81 by Indiana. Mount was called for a foul on the play as Freeman's shot was good. Details in Sports Section. (AP Wirepholo) Mnsitlv Today Star News Summary 2 Star Telephone Numbers Main Office 633-1240 Circulation 633-921 1 Want Ads 633-1212 Scores After 4:30 p.m. TODAY'S CIIUCKI.i; "How do I love thee? I mc compute the ways," said Ihe data processing operator to his girlfriend.

i The ealher Joe Crow Says: It's no Polc-lsh joke to Johnny Rutherford. Indianapolis Partly sunny, cool and windy today; artly cloudy tonight with slight chance of showers; partly sunny ngain tomorrow with a high around 60. Indiana Partly sunny and cool today with north to smith highs ranging between 52-63; partly cloudy, cooler tonight with slight chance of showers; lows tonight between 31-43. ART POLLARD WAS OLDEST ENTRY THIS YEAR But Enthusiasm, Mod Clothes Belied His Age i i i i irt-lhKi- I i i i i.