Indy 500 Memories: Sneaking Into Gasoline Alley
By Dick Smith
©1996
SpeedCenter Internet Publishing, Inc.
Exclusive to SpeedCenter
Approximately 30 years ago I was spending part of a day in
Gasoline Alley at Indy. I didn’t have a garage pass which were
very tightly held in those days.
As usual, I sneaked in.
The problem was that once you were in you didn’t want to leave, and
chance not getting back in. So I hung around for a couple of hours
soaking up what I could.
These were the old wooden garages, some of which dated back
to who knows when and some rebuilt in identical style and size
after the big garage fire on race morning in 1941.
From one perspective these garages were class! The Gasoline Alley facility
was undoubtedly the best in the nation and probably the world. From
another perspective, they were right out of high button shoes.
They were of all wood construction with double doors that swung outward,
and a high set of single pane windows ran across each door. White
with green trim. Inside, if it were your garage, you might have
been able to stick your bicycle next to Dad’s Buick without
scratching the paint on a good day.
These things were tiny and each garage had its own personality.
Over the years, the teams had built work benches on the back wall,
painted the walls, and even re-floored some of them. There were
doubles, connected, and even a triple garage.
Teams opted to return each year to the garage(s) they called home and some even used them
year round. Many teams left the doors open to help cool the place
in Indiana’s weather and only placed a flag draped rope across the
opening.
Others closed up tight and covered over the windows to
keep out prying eyes. It was a place to rub shoulders with drivers,
mechanics, owners, and entrants as well as study each car intently.
This was where the hero’s hung out.
The cars were still a major focus. I mean, with names such
as Jones & Maley, Central Excavating, Bob Estes Trio Brass, Belanger
Motors, and Dean Van Lines Special (they ALL were called specials)
how commercial could it be?
If a team carried sponsorship, it
invariably came in the form of the name of the car owner’s business.
Probably less than a third of the teams had an outside sponsor and
those were minimal.
What we saw were people chasing dreams. Buy or
build a car that could be used basically ONLY at Indianapolis, stick
some form of power in it, and go follow the rainbow. There wasn’t a
motor home in sight. Nor a single hospitality tent.
You could tell the serious players in those days because they wore a white T-shirt that said Vel’s
Mobil Station or something similar on the front. If you got hungry,
you ate with the other teams, drivers, and personalities at the
special cafeteria in the garage area.
Getting into the garage area was BIG TIME, especially for a
16-18 year old fan. I’ll share my 60’s secret method with you.
At
that time, and still the same today, Gasoline Alley is separated
from the pits by an opening in the Tower Terrace seating and
a 30-foot stretch of concrete that normally is used as
a pedestrian walkway behind the seating.
When a car enters or leaves the garage area, the Safety Patrol guys
in charge of the area, blow their little whistles to show their importance,
and uncoil a pair of ropes to cordon off a path between Gasoline Alley
and the pit entrance.
As can be expected, with all the foot traffic, the spectators tend to
group around this spot to get a good look at each passing car. If
one had enough nerve, you’d stand patiently waiting for a car to be
pushed back to the garages from the pits.
As the Safety Patrol personnel are focusing on pushing back the crowds,
blowing their whistles, acting important, and extending their rope, I’d slip
under the end and join the crew in pushing the car!
Worked every time.
Today, I’d stick out like a sore thumb against the crew and their fancy
uniforms. Back then, dressed in cotton slacks and a shirt, I fit right
in....maybe looking just a tad young. If you wanted to go into the pits, you
repeated this operation but helped push a car out to the track after getting
into the garage area.
I was spending some time that year observing Mickey Thompson work on
one of his ultra low rear engine cars. A fairly well known West Coast
hot-rodder, Mickey had brought some new ideas to the Speedway. As
usual, the "new ideas" weren’t world beaters compared to the top of the
line cars but they were different. After some tidying up, the team decided
to take the car out to run it and began their preparations to go trackside.
At the last minute, Mickey, turned and ran back into the garage. Quickly
he stripped out of his California style "Mickey Thompson" T-shirt and
pulled a new, clean one from a chest. I was impressed. Here was a
guy and team that wanted to make a good impression with their professionalism!
Since I didn’t have a Mickey Thompson T-shirt, I opted to continue walking
around the garage area.
This wasn’t some Mid-Western bull-ring. This was Indy. The fanciest and
most important of all. This was the racing plant with the most amenities
of all. This was AAA Champ Car and early USAC racing at its highest
level. And it was so laid back that a kid fan could participate in a
remote way.
Looking at Indycar racing today, the events of these times seem like
something out of the dark ages. The sport has come a long way. Is it
better? Certainly, in most every way. But that is not to say that the
crews and teams of 50’s and 60’s were any less than those today.
They were at the top of their profession. The top just wasn’t so high.
It was expensive! Big time expensive and the owners and entrants
kicked in huge amounts to chase those dreams.
What it didn’t have was money, real MONEY.
By that I mean the vast sums
kicking around today that go for coordinated Nomex and lounge wear for
the crew/wives/owners/sponsors and VIP’s, motor homes, hospitality tents,
trackside suites, and tons of beautiful people.
They are a product of
sponsorships and are necessary to make the sponsorship work. It's a
big circle, chicken and egg type of situation.
Back then, money went from
some individual’s pocket to the team to buy a new set of tires for qualifying.
Today it goes into promoting more and increased sponsorships which are
then used to lure other sponsors to buy the team some tires.
It’s different today.
Could we have progressed to where the technology is today
without sponsorships? No way, in my opinion. But F. Scott Fitzgerald was right.
There IS a difference between them and us.
Somehow, I just don’t see a similar 16 year old kid with nerve
wandering around Gasoline Alley, rubbing shoulders and striking up
brief conversations with the Sam Hanks, "Herk", Mark Donahue, or Mickey
Thompson's of today.
Anyway, the hamburgers in the now extinct Gasoline
Alley Cafeteria were really bad, but I’d trade a thousand Big Mac's for the
opportunity to sit there again someday.
|