There are a couple of Hubskiites that know my dad, and anybody that knows my dad knows that he is ALL stories. Dude has lived an incredible life. This is one we all know by heart... --- My dad grew up in a sleepy little suburb far east of Los Angeles, called Sierra Madre. He was dead-center in the middle of the 1950's Southern California car culture. He personally knew Von Dutch, Edelbrock, Carroll Shelby, Bondurant, Gurney, Disney, and the Los Angeles Rams. And he was a hoodlum of the 1950's variety... doing burnouts on main street in front of the soda shop... illegal drag racing... he was basically living the movie American Graffiti: The cops in town were the washouts from other departments elsewhere. Complete muppets. Incompetent and harmless. So my dad and his friends used to mess with them... In the middle of town there is a cannon, which is a war memorial: One night, my dad and his friends see the cops "hiding" in one of their usual spots, surveilling the main street area, and decide to mess with them. So, they each pretend to be hiding things in their coats, and one-by-one, sneak up to the nose of the cannon and put something into the open barrel. The cops see this, throw on their lights, and come screeching up to the cannon, lights and sirens blazing, to "catch the kids in the act, before they blow something up!" One cop lines the boys up alongside the cannon, and is reading them the riot act, while the other cop has his flashlight out, and is slowly inching around the muzzle of the cannon to look inside. My dad's best friend Mike O'Donnell is standing closest to the back of the cannon, and as the cop with the flashlight gets his head around the front of the muzzle, Mike leans down and shouts "BOOM!" into the open breech. The cop FREAKS OUT... flashlight goes flying... he panics and runs back to the idling police car... slams it in reverse... tears the open passenger door off the police car as he burns out in reverse... and screams off down the street, leaving his partner and the boys laughing their asses off. Ladies and gentlemen... my father.
Ok. For those who have seen the movie Ford vs Ferrari that came out recently, my Dad is kinda involved in that. The race in Southern California early in the movie, where Ken Miles is initially disqualified because his trunk is too small? And he takes a hammer to the inside of the trunk to stretch it out and meet the rulebook? Carroll Shelby was in a race the same day, driving a 7-liter Maserati. My dad was also racing his Corvette there the same day (not a photo of my dad): The thing is that there were only 5 "modified" class vehicles like the Maserati at the track that day - not enough to have a full race of their own - so the track decided to add the 5 Modifieds to the Stock class that my Dad was in. Now, there's no way a stock race car can compete with a modified-class car. For example, the Modifieds all arrive on a trailer and are not street-legal. The stock-class cars have to be street legal, like my Dad's Corvette; he drove his car to the race that day. So the Track Officials told everyone that this was going to be like LeMans, where several different class of cars are racing at the same time, but there are actually different races going on... the Modifieds will have a 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place according to their finishes, and the Stock-cars will have their own 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place trophies, regardless of where the Modifieds finish. BY NO MEANS were the Stock cars to try to compete with the Modified class cars! It was dangerous and pointless, so the Stockers should look for the Modifieds coming up in their rear view mirror, and let them pass. DON'T TRY AND RACE THE MODIFIEDS. At the second corner, Carroll Shelby was in first place with his Maserati, and my Dad was in 2nd place in his Corvette. Over the next two laps the two of them pulled away from the rest of the field, and were on their own. The 7-liter Maserati was a MONSTER powerhouse, of course, and could do a billion miles an hour on the straights. But a 7-liter engine is HEAVY, and it was slow through the corners. On the other hand, my Dad's Corvette was nimble and quick (the first production car with a fiberglass body, IIRC), and able to get through the corners fast, but did not have the top speed of the Maserati. Willow Springs Race Track has two long straight-ish sections, and some nice tight corners: So Shelby would come out of Turn 9 and push the throttle to Mach 10 as he came to the Start/Finish line, then have to brake hard into Turn 1, where my Dad would catch up and stay ahead into Turn 6. Then the fire-breathing 7-liter Maserati would blow by my Dad up to Turn 7, feather it a bit to get through Turn 8, brake hard for Turn 9, and turn on the rockets again approaching the Start/Finish line. Throughout the 20-plus laps of the race, the two diced back and forth like this. But my Dad noticed that Shelby had to feather the throttle a bit and scrub off some speed to get through Turn 8. My Dad figured that if he could get through 5 and 6 quicker, he could stay closer to Shelby on 7, pass him in 8, stay ahead through 9 as Shelby had to brake hard, and possibly stretch it out enough to beat Shelby to the Start/Finish line. Now, remember, they are two different class vehicles in completely different races, that just happen to be running at the same time on the same track. The two of them COULD HAVE just driven normally and both taken 1st Place in each of their races. But NOOOOOOOoOooOooOoOOoooo... these guys are RACERS. So they are 2 laps from the end of the race. Dad makes his move. HARD out of Turn 4. Don't let off through Turn 5. Shelby isn't even in his rear view mirror, as my dad comes in HOT to Turn 6... ... and runs wide, and clips the outside rail with his left front fender. No biggie. A little broken fiberglass. No structural damage. And he guns for Turns 7 and 8... ... and it WORKS. Carroll Shelby can't get past my Dad before Turn 9. My Dad is in the lead, carrying more speed into the corner, and comes out at full throttle ahead of Shelby on the front straight for the first time. He crosses the Start/Finish line ahead of Carroll Shelby and passes the white flag (last lap indicator) first!! THIS IS GOING TO WORK. HE CAN BEAT SHELBY'S MODIFIED-CLASS MASERATI IN A STOCK CAR!!! As my dad passes the Start/Finish line he notices the flagger is waving TWO flags at my Dad... the white flag, indicating the last lap, and a rolled black flag, too! He thinks: Black flag: eliminated from race! But wait... it was ROLLED... that means something... SHIT... what does that mean? Do I have to stop? Do I continue racing?!? WHAT DO I DO?!?" He's still ahead of Shelby and coming up to the corners where he needs to commit to his previous stunt to stay ahead of Shelby, and cross the Start/Finish in first place overall..... But that rolled black flag! What does it mean!?? He flutters the throttle going into 5, doesn't carry the speed he needs to stay ahead between Turns 6 and 7... and the Maserati blows by him. Shelby throws my dad a puzzled look as he passes. Carroll knows my dad beat him, and has slowed down, and is wondering why... Shelby crosses the finish line first taking 1st overall, my dad crosses just behind him taking 1st in the Stock ("Production") class. They see each other in the pits later. Shelby nods. My dad nods. They go their separate ways. (Footnote: A rolled black flag means that there is damage to your vehicle that is being reviewed by race officials, and you may have to leave the track... but they haven't decided yet. So KEEP RACING. When my Dad clipped the wall and damaged the fender, race officials were concerned that his tire/wheel might have been damaged, and were waiting for him to come around past them again on the track so they could see the damage and make a determination of whether it was just cosmetic damage, or if he needed to be Black Flagged and pulled out of the race immediately. They determined his vehicle was safe to continue racing; he didn't need to slow or stop.)
