The Indianapolis Star from Indianapolis, Indiana • Page 61

S6 THE INDIANAPOLIS STAR THE INDIANAPOLIS STAR S7 OIL HIT II (Q) INI irvv Danny Sullivan took a pleasant 'spinajround the 212-mile oval. yi ri niiWM Minn i 3 tmiMMrnit riitwn liniirif-iiiiitllirriTrtilll iriininiiliWMinwiinoinriiriinll Sit it 4 i -K' liB File Photo "lit" U- US'. (SS'w- Star File Photo RECOVERY TIME: Danny Sullivan somehow pulled himself safely out of this spin and came back to win the race. Tony Hulman purchased the Speedway, it was in poor condition. But to many who snuck onto the grounds back then, it was an ideal setting.

was at eace during war years Arm children and adults alike used the mostly-ignored grounds as their own personal adventure retreat and recreational facility Bobby Unser takes soggy checkered in race famous for Tom Sneva's crash. By John Bansch STAR STAFF WRITER obby Unser flashed around Johnny Rutherford 164 laps into the 1975 Indianapolis 500, headed for glorv and one of the most bizarre finishes in racing history. Eleven laps later on the warm, muggy afternoon, an unexpected, violent rainstorm swept across the Speedway. As an estimated 300,000 fans scurried to find cover, Unser received the second of his three Indianapolis checkered flags and cars driven by seven of his rivals careened out of control, spinning wildly into the wall and each other. Bill Puterbaugh spun on the slick north front straight as the red and checkered flags were thrown simultaneously, ending the chase after 435 miles.

Bentley Warren and Jimmy Caruthers crashed into him. Meanwhile, Bill Vukovich Jr. was spinning in Turn 4, Pancho Carter's car was whirling on the main straightaway, Steve Krisiloff was spinning at the start-finish line and Sheldon Kinser was out of control in Turn 1 Nature had changed a promising sprint to the finish into an abbreviated chase, leaving the competitors wondering if Unser in his Dan Star File Photo TWO MUCH: Bobby Unser still found plenty to celebrate in the rain, namely his second Indy 500 victory. Gurney-built Jorgensen Eagle or Rutherford, who finished second in his Gatorade McLaren, had enough fuel to go the distance. "Johnny was going to have a tough time catching me even with the boost screwed in," said a jubilant Unser, who made his final pit stop on the last official lap.

"I could outrun him all the way. I knew It would take a smart race to win and that's what we had in mind." Rutherford, attempting to become the fifth driver in "500" annals to win consecutive races, was told by his crew he could make It to the end while pitting on Lap 171, even though he had not gone more than 26 laps between stops. See 1975 Page 11 Sneva, 210.029 mph. 1985 I. fjf v.

1 kH 4 in ZS RISING FROM THE RUINS: When By Curt Cavin STAR STAFF WRITER he walk through time can be made with small steps llllj at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway's Hall of Fame Museum. Seventy-eight open-wheel races and one stock car race along with the accomplishments of the drivers and teams can be relived with two hours and a fresh pair of sneakers. Upstairs in the Speedway's photography office, director Ron McQueeney has millions of negatives that share a theme and tight quarters. This is Indianapolis, the most storied town of auto racing summed up in tiny frames of transparency. In this two-story building at the south end of IMS infield, the history of the Speedway can be seen and felt.

Well, almost. The late Tony Hulman bought the race track 50 years ago this November, but historians cannot say when he got his first look at IMS. Without doubt, the facility Hulman first saw carried a look of despair and disrepair. Fifty years ago this May, it was gloom and doom with extra o's. The financial strain of World War II had taken its four-year toll on the world's largest racing center.

For all of its eventual grandeur, the 2'2-mile oval was being driven by the elements of nature without check from a staff strapped by economics. Weeds grew out of control in the rundown pits. Small buildings were concealed by unwanted foliage. There were critter-sized cracks in the track's concrete and bricks, and enough ter-mites gnawing to cripple portions of the wooden grandstands. But perhaps more important to the mystique of the Brickyard, the fence along Georgetown Road was in similar tatter.

It was the door to a part of Speedway history not mentioned in the museum, not captured in the three photographs preserved in McQueeney's office. This is the story of the Speedway kids and their war-time playground, how the 559-acre complex was transformed from automobile racing giant to everyday hangout. Hunters found ac- tivity in several forms; teen-agers roamed likewise without care. There are not a lot of individuals left to tell their stories of the Speedway in 1942-45. While there were 13,092 town residents reported in the 1990 U.S.

Census, there were but 2,325 in 1940. Of those, likely half are deceased Speedway Two-time winner Bill Vukovich was leading again when tragedy struck. By Curt Cavin STAR STAFF WRITER he healing process varies depending on the injury. This one is working on 40 years. No one who was at the 1955 Indianapolis 500 has forgotten the events of the day.

Remember the winner? Most who weren't present can't. All remember the loser or have at least read about them. The Vukovich family. Working Lap 57 of 200, Bill Vukovich was in his most famous Indy position: first. That's where he had been at the end of the 1953 and 1954 race, too.

The Californian was on a three-peat roll that has not since been matched or seriously challenged at the world's most prestigious race track. Then hell caught him a few yards past the exit of Turn 2. Rodger Ward, who would win the race in 1959 and 1962, was two laps behind when his axle broke. That started the havoc that silenced the Speedway. "I saw Ward swerve, hit the inside wall and flip," said Johnny Boyd, who was trailing the action.

"I thought to myself, 'My because Ward and 1 were close and when you saw someone flip in those days here in a dirt car I thought that was it for him." Ward's car came to rest on the outside half of the race track on the backstretch, facing the oncoming traffic diagonally. Boyd said there was room to pass on the outside but he had been taught to opt for the inside at a reduced and consistent pace, if possible. He did. Al Keller did not. Keller, who was killed racing at Phoenix in 1961, grabbed his hand brake and locked the wheels, creating a significant cloud of smoke near the inside of the track.

His Traylor Offy veered back onto the track in the path of Boyd, who drove the blue Sumar Offy. Boyd nearly jumped out of his seat. "I saw Keller reach out and grab his brake and there was a ball of smoke," he said. "Then he made the move I was told never to make here he tried to overcorrect and I guess he was still on the throttle because that car shot back out of the infield and I thought, 'He's going to hit and man he did, midship. "He hit me a ton." Complicating the crash was the application of rubber on rubber.

The right front tire of Keller's car touched the left rear of Boyd's, sending Boyd's nose to the ground and to the right still clear of Ward. But not clear of Vukovich, who was scrambling for space from behind. Boyd never saw him. "As I started (to flip after hitting Keller), Vuky hit me in the right rear and I mean it felt like a freight train 'running over me," he said. "It cata-, pulted me forward and I blacked out from the shock.

The next thing I knew I was on my nose on the race track." Boyd's car flipped end over end, striking the old backstretch bridge the original Brickyard Crossing with the rear. Vukovich was not so fortunate. His 18-inch front left tire hit Boyd's right rear, jetting him immediately to the right. Vukovich barrel-rolled to the bridge and over the wall, so fast that many missed it. Speedway historian Bob Laycock and veteran observer Charlie Brock-man made three separate trips to the crash site and likely know as much about it as anyone who wasn't in a 1945 Fastest Qualifier 1945 The Indianapolis Motor Speedway was closed from 1942 to 1945 due to World War II.

1946 George Robson wins the first Indianapolis 500 under the Hulman family reign. Anton "Tony" Hulman had purchased the track in October 1945 for $700,000. mm 1952 Troy race drivers make appearance. 1953 Bill in leads 1 race run hottest Driver Clark's victory in rear-engine car sends roadsters to the museum. By George Moore STAR STAFF WRITER "1 Fl istory has a way itself, but at the In JY I 500 it took 49 yea It came in IS Fl istory has a way of repeating 3 itself, hut at the Indianannlis years.

965 when Scotsman Jimmy Clark became the first foreign driver to win the race since Dario Resta captured the 1916 Memorial Day classic. Clark did even better than his pioneer predecessor, the '16 event was for only 300 miles. The somewhat shy, retiring Scot superstar covered the distance in 3 hours, 19 minutes, 5.34 seconds for average speed of 150.686 mph. He also set a precedent that continues to present, introducing the rear-engine race car to Victory Lane for the first time and putting the redoubtable front-engine roadster on the shelf. Today's 30th anniversary of that revolutionary event marks the ever-changing tide of affairs at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

The front row had A. J. Foyt on pole with a speed of 161.958 mph with the Sheraton-Thompson Lotus-Ford. Clark was in the middle of the front row at a speed of 160.729 mph the Team LotusFord. Dan Gurney the All Amercan Racers Lotus-Ford occupied the No.

3 starting spot 158.898 mph. That's some 70 mph slower than today's starting lineup. Foyt might have started on the pole, but once the green flag dropped Star File Photo INDY WACKY: Jimmy Clark was wide-eyed neophyte in the heat of the battle. basically was looking at the Flying Scot's tailpipes. Clark was in control almost from start.

He grabbed the lead going into the first turn and held it until A.J. slipped past going up the backstretch on Lap 2. The Scotsman was ahead again by a nose when the pair crossed the startfinish line on Lap 3, and he maintained that lead until his first pit stop on the 67th lap. That put the Flying Texan Foyt in front for nine circuits before he was forced to pit for fuel. The fuel tank on Sheraton-Thompson was bone dry, and Clark gained valuable time while Foyt's Ford Indy V-8 was being restarted.

The time-consuming stop was costly, as Clark lapped Foyt shortly after A.J. returned to the fray. He managed to unlap himself a couple of laps later. However, it didn't make all that much difference, as he was not be a presence at the end. A.J.

was eliminated on the 115th when the gearbox went out. Prior that he turned the fastest lap of See 1965 Page 9 1955 1957 After winning in George Salih's "laydown" roadster, Sam Hanks retires from racing. 1959 Winner Rodger Ward is one of 16 drivers on lead lap at checkered flag, the most ever. 1961 A.J. Foyt wins his first "500." Jack Brabham drives the first rear-engine entry, the CooperClimax, to ninth place.

-1 Fastest 1: -i Star File Photo THE MAD RUSSIAN: Bill Vukovich could well have won four straight Indy 500s. A broken steering pin stopped him in 1952. He was leading in '55 when he died in a crash. race car. The two found a speck of blue paint on the short outside wall prior to the bridge, but they originally thought it was from Boyd's car.

A scrape under the bridge proved Vukovich left the track before the bridge. His car landed upside-down several yards north of the bridge alongside the outer wall. Laycock is among those who have studied all known photo accounts. "I think I'd be short when I say he nipped 20 to 25 feet Into the air." Laycock said. "He was almost as high up as the trees.

"When he landed, he landed next to the Mobil gas tank (north of the bridge) and there was a guy sitting in a chair who just got out of the way. That roadster landed absolutely upside-down and there was not any space In those cars in that position for the driver. It almost sealed him in." Word quickly spread that Vukovich, who was driving the Lindsey Hopkins car, died from burns, though that was not the case. Medical personnel confirmed that the two-time defending champion was partially decapitated during contact with the bridge. The fire that broke out after the crash had no bearing on his survival.

"The bottom of my car brushed the inside of the bridge and Vuky's cockpit caught the bridge," said Boyd, who incurred only scrapes to his hands, arms anil shoulders. "That's the only difference between my being here and Vuky not. "He never knew what hit him. The thing was, we saw it coming and we should have been home free." Ward was not injured. Boyd, a rookie that May, went on to start 12 consecutive Indys and had a third-place finish in 1958 and a fifth in 1964.

Losing Vukovich was among the many devastating moments in his career. In the days of frequent fatalities, being a driver of a race car especially at Indy was a dangerous business. Boyd knew it, Vukovich knew it, Keller knew it. "None of us felt we were going to die in a race car, but we knew it was a possibility," Boyd said. "It was tough when Vuky was killed; it hurt really bad.

E3ut that's what happened in those days, an era I'm glad to say I raced in because car owners sought you out to drive their cars. They thought you could be the difference in winning a race. See 1955 Page 8 1946 54: 1954, Jack McGrath, 141 .033 mph. 1954 Vukovich repeats, becoming the first driver to average 130 mph for the 500 miles. it' la 9 Bill Vukovich Mark Robinson 1 v.

i as an the the in in at no he the his to lap to 4 I grandstand and out of the grounds in the south chute. Dry Run also makes its way through the outside portion of the golf course. The reservoir at Eagle Creek also helped curb the water at IMS. Before those two creations, the front stretch of bricks occasionally became its own pool without a ladder. "I remember you had to stand in the bleachers to keep your head above the water," said Crumley, who in 1945 worked at the golf course, where he now works two days a week.

Glen Collins, now 88, was not exactly a kid in 1942-45, but he had enough fun in the dormant IMS to be called one. The life-long Speedway resident fondly remembers his excursions to the property he was supposed to be monitoring as a member of the town's four-man police department. There was never any trouble because many of the neighborhood folks saw the track as a park, or at least their private refuge. "We used to go in there and hunt rabbit," said Collins, who later hired both Cassaday and Crumley as town patrolmen. "The fence was there, but it really wasn't.

Anybody could get in and I think a lot of people did. Certainly you could if you wanted to. Guys that worked for me did things in there on their shift and I did things on mine. (The empty Speedway) was there, so we used it." Jack Hoerger, 68, grew up near Cassaday on 15th Street and has seldom strayed. He has lived in his current house on Allison for 48 years.

The track was his home away from nearby home. "Every spring and summer we'd go over there; I guess we thought the place had to have us," he said. "It was a great place." Being part of history Hoerger describes IMS during the war as a piece of property not suited in any way for automobile racing. "It was like if you had an old brick patio that was left alone for four years," he said. "We used to call the little trees that grew up in the cracks 'stink' trees, like the ones that grow See WAR YEARS Page 8 Hff r- liHWi -mi i Fastest Qualifier 1975-84: 1984, Tom KTK around the track on my bicycle." "It wasn't like we were breaking any rules or anything," Cassaday said.

"(Going inside) was just something to do and it certainly wasn't vandalism. We were there to have fun because it was there. There seemed to be no reason why we couldn't; it wasn't being used and most people figured it never would, at least not as a race track." There used to be a cluster of trees In the infield of Turn 4 and squirrels were almost as thick as the leaves. Mushrooms sprouted on the banking "It wasn't like we were breaking any rules or anything. (Going inside) was just something to do and it certainly wasn't vandalism.

We were there to have fun because it was there. There seemed to be no reason why we couldn't; it wasn't being used and most people figured it never would, at least not as a race track." Bob Cassaday on the north end and ducks flew in and around the way balloons do on modern-day race mornings. It was a hunter's dream, sort of an Eagle Creek Park without hills and state government restrictions. Maybe the best thing, Cassaday said, was the rain created swimming pools in the underpasses. Today, pumps run almost continuously to remove the quick-gathering water.

Cassaday and his pals used to swim there for hours, though in hindsight, he regrets it. "We used to hold our breath and swim from one side to the other. It was our private lake," he said. "That wasn't very smart, but it sure was fun." The south end of the town used to be In a flood plain until the IMS staff created in 1965 the ditch known today as Dry Run. The water supply that flooded Turn 1 on the day before the 1956 race was routed under the main 198.413 mph.

1975 From his house at 1928 Allison, he could practically skip a rock to the 10-foot fence that guarded the race track, closed seven months after the 1941 race and the United States' entry into the war. As a point of reference, consider that this was a different era. The land at 25th Street and Georgetown Road is now occupied by the Coca-Cola plant, but in the 1940s It was dominated by a marsh. The lot where the high school sits was then farmland, with a pond that the seven children of the Rosner family father Frank owned the town's drug store at 16th and Main used for ice skating in the winter. Few houses stood west of Lynhurst Road, a half-mile from the track.

Speedway was distinct geographically from Indianapolis, much the way Clermont is today. There was no. chain-link fence around the race track and no yellow-shirted patrol guard stationed at every gate. The grandstands were main-straightaway only, leaving the rest of the complex in a wilderness-like state. Cassaday remembers how the nails at the bottom of the wood fence's rotten planks were loose, allowing for a simple and swift push.

Quickly and almost effortlessly, entrance was a no-brainer for a curious and thrill-seeking youth. Tom Sawyer never had it so easy. "We'd get the boards swinging and in we'd go," he said, laughing. "They'd drop right back into place so fast, like you were never there. It worked good." Through the fence was a world free of the noise that has become synonymous with the 86-year-old track.

With the war on indefinitely, track owner Eddie Rickenbacker had laid off virtually all of his employees, giving the facility a ghost-town feeling. Cassaday and the others who ventured into the closed operation seldom saw signs of management or enforcement of what was private property. They never came a "No Trespassing" sign. Not one was posted. "Only if you got on the golf course would you be chased off," said Jim Crumley, whose family moved to the 5500 block of 16th Street in 1943.

"There weren't too many houses around, so if you wanted in, you went in; ft was that easy. 1 used to ride mm. ah. Qualifier 1965-74: 1973, Johnny Rutherford, Star File Photo A NEW SPIN: Sullivan isn't sure today why he didn't crash. "I saw it the other day and it still gives me chills," he said.

"It didn't when it happened, but it does now." "I knew I had a few more laps to pass him and I wasn't going to screw it up again," Sullivan said. "I wanted to get by clean and I knew I could take him. I also didn't let him push me down the apron this time." From that point, he never relinquished the top spot, building a 15-second advantage. A final yellow light gave Andretti one last opportunity with two laps to go, but Sullivan held his ground. "I ran as hard as I could all day and my crew did everything I could possibly ask for," Andretti said.

"But my car stayed the same the entire race and we could never make it better. I saw him coming on before he spun and I knew they had found something." In his third "500" and only his second race for team owner Roger Penske, the Louisville, Ky native had captured the biggest prize in auto racing. "Everybody was saying, 'Where did this guy come said Sullivan, who had started eighth. "But I didn't look at it as happening so quickly as everybody else because 1 had been working hard other places Europe and other Formula series that the Indy-car media didn't cover." Yet every May highlights make the loop seem like yesterday. "It's got an aura about it and its own title, 'Spin to Posterity-wise, it's something I'll be able to show my kids and grandklds," said Sullivan, who has a 5-year-old son.

By Mark Ambrogi STAR STAFF WRITER fl ot a May goes by when Dan- I .31 1 ny Sullivan doesn't see his II I racinS career do a 360 right before his eyes. This month, in particular, Sullivan has already been treated to many encores of his 10-year-old "Spin to Win" Indianapolis 500 victory. "I'd sure like to have the residuals," the 45-year-old Sullivan said of his "500" film festival highlight that assured his place in racing history. "I saw it the other day and it still gives me chills. It didn't when it happened, but it does now." The spin occurred on Lap 120 as Sullivan was just getting past race leader Mario Andretti.

With all four wheels under the line, Sullivan drove under Andretti going through the first turn. "I passed him by maybe one foot," he said. Coming off the corner, he wiggled and his Miller American MarchCos-worth snapped around. It did a complete 200-mph pirouette. "I've spun before but not while leading the race and certainly not here in Indianapolis where you tend to get sucked into the wall," recalled Sullivan, who will start on the outside of Row 6 this year.

"It's one of those things that happened and fate was on my side. I guess I looped it in fa good enough position to not hit anything. I was lucky, gathered it up and took off and passed him a little later in the same spot." Andretti somehow managed to avoid the spinning Sullivan in the smoke-filled air. "I stayed off the brakes so I wouldn't spin and kept my car as straight as possible," Andretti said following the race. "I hoped inertia would keep him out of my way and it did." Sullivan made the bold move because he thought the race was winding down, misunderstanding his team manager's lap count on the radio.

"I thought there were 18 laps or something like that because I couldn't hear right or read the pit board so I just thought I better get by Mario because he's going to be really tough to pass with 10 laps to go," Sullivan said. "I kept thinking, 'Man, this has been a quick But you can lose sight of time out there. "The turbulence was bad because we were right behind Mario. I could see the three numbers on the pit board but I couldn't read them. Of course, you're also going by at 220 miles an hour." Following the shocking spin, Sullivan had four new tires put on and rejoined the chase right behind Andretti.

He remained second before overtaking Andretti for the second time on Lap 140. JM II 'I" I A A 1992 Unser Jr. holds off Scott Goodyear by 0.043 seconds, closest finish ever. Fastest Qualifier 1985-95: 1992, 1987 Al Unser after out and "7-3 yU li jl t-T All Star Staff Photo Greg Griflo OLD STOMPING GROUNDS: Bob Cassaday, now a USAC vice president, saw the Speedway up close when weeds and trees were thriving on the track. All that's visibly left of that era now is The yard of brick.

and many more have moved. Most of those who saw IMS in its most embarrassing state were either adventurous or mischievous, or both. Five decades have turned black-and-white memories to gray. But looking back, that hardly matters. The once-silent Indy is worth talking about.

Recreation heaven This is the 67th May of Bob Cassa-day's life and most have been spent befriending the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. He moved to the track's back door in 1942, enrolling at Speedway High School as a freshman. mph. 1965 Fastest 1965 Jimmy Clark is first "500" winner in a rear-engine car, Colin Chapman's LotusFord. 1967 Foyt wins for third time in seven races when Parnelli Jones' turbine falters on the 197th lap.

flAlS 1 vnmmmmmw(t IJHUUJ Ill OIF 1 am 5 rifjfMiSiiTOijMimiiimMiiiif-'- Qualifier 1955-64: 1964, Jim Clark, 158.828 Roberto Guerrero, 232.482 mph. 1985 Danny Sullivan pulls his famous spin-to-win maneuver to outlast Mario Andretti. 1 I becomes second four-time winner the dominant Mario Andretti falls Roberto Guerrero stalls in pits. 1968 Bobby Unser goes on to win after the turbine, this time with Joe Leonard at the wheel, fails in the waning laps. Urn V.

ii 1962 Parnelli Jones cracks the magical 150-mph-barrier in qualifying. Ward wins for second time in four years, in record speed (140.293 1963 Jones wins pole (151.153) and race (143.137) in record speed. Ruttman wins first without any relief used. Roadsters first Speedway Vukovich finishes pole-winning qualification the rain; then 95 laps to win in one of days in history. Carl Scarborough dies of heat exhaustion.

1989 Emerson Fittipaldi wins after bumping with Al Unser Jr. on 199th lap. 1" Hk' iiaitmMmSmiklt 1976 Entire track is repaved at once for the first time. Johnny Rutherford wins third rain-shortened race in four years. 1977 Foyt becomes first four-time winner.

1978 Tom Sneva breaks 200-mph barrier in qualifying, but finishes second in race to Al Unser who wins for third time. 1972 Mark Donohue's McLaren becomes the first winning car with a rear wing and the first winner for owner Roger Penske. Mark Bobby Unser qualifies at a record 1980 Ground effects take effect. Rutherford wins in the Chaparral. 1981 Bobby Unser wins, has title taken away on lap penalty, but gets it back in court.

He then retires to the TV booth. A.J. Foyt Donohue 195.940 1991 Rick Mears becomes third four-time "500" winner, outdueling Michael Andretti to finish. 1994 Unser Jr. wins for second time, giving his family nine victories and Penske 10.

i Star Staff Graphics Tom Peyton I SOUKS6S: Indianapolis Mor Speedway, Research;.