Back in the "old" days, the
spectator count wasn't all that great, although it was somewhat relevant as to
how many people were around back then, the percentages were quite less than they
are today. When Hank and I would run the car at one of the many Southern
California drag strips, a few friends and family were always there to cheer us
on and because the car always ran well we had our share of fans.
One thing about the fans back then,
they were super exuberant. As I've stated before it was a great
era. It was run-wutcha-brung and that's no kidding, I was there.
There was practically any kind of engine and chassis combination you could
think of. Airplane engines of all sorts, car, truck and tractor engines,
big ones, little ones, one, two, three and four engine things
running on gasoline, alcohol or nitro and even diesels. If you were above
a certain speed (No elapsed times back then) at a given time in the afternoon
they would call for eliminations and the fastest cars would race each
other. It was usually 8 or 10 cars and they would race the ones with the
slower times, first (think there might have been a little sandbagging going
on). Because of the variety of racecars and engines the fans would scream
and holler for their favorite car, engine(s) or driver.
The purse destroyer
My wife Jo, was probably the most
notable (and noisiest) of all the fans. When the dragster was being
pushed down the return road to be started, she would start cheering and by the
time we got the engine fired and turned around in the staging area she would be
out of her seat and jumping up and down at the fence screaming and hollering
and the race hadn't even started yet. When the race started, along with
the screaming, hollering and jumping up and down, she would swing her arms up
and down and around in circles hanging on to her purse strap. Needless to
say after a few revolutions of the purse and a few apologies for wapping the
persons on either side of her she would clear out the area. When the RPM
of the purse got up to speed, the next thing that would happen is that it would
catch on the top of the chain link fence and WAM! RIIIIIIIP! The 'ole purse
just couldn't take it. Can you imagine, ladies purse stuff flying all
over the place, into the air, into the stands, on the ground and this person
screaming and hollering, now there's a real fan. I received reports from
reliable sources that word went out from the fans to "Watch out for that blonde
with the purse". It was a case of "Extreme" fan appreciation and we all
loved it. The next time out, in a diligent effort to save the fans, the
stands and the fences (and purses) we will make Jo a crewmember. Thanks,
see you at the races.