History and Humor Handed Out at
‘Legendary Dragstrips’ Panel Discussion at the Wally Parks Motorsports
Museum
POMONA, Calif. (Apr. 20, 2004) – “These were the
wonder years,” emcee Dave McClelland mused, “because it was a wonder how
we survived!” McClelland was speaking to a crowd of more than 200 who came
to the Wally Parks NHRA Motorsports Museum for a nostalgia-laced special
panel discussion on the golden age of California dragstrips.
And after hearing the numerous wild and wacky tales – cars running while
intentionally on fire, wheel-standing exhibit runs, four jet-engined
dragsters racing at the same time side-by-side, cars exploding and their
remnants landing on churches blocks away, you got the idea McClelland
wasn’t totally kidding.
Called “The Men Who Ran Dragstrips We Knew and Loved,” the two-hour-plus
program consisted of a panel of eight former dragstrip operators who bared
their souls about the early days of drag racing with historic and humorous
anecdotes. The panel featured C.J. “Pappy” Hart of Santa Ana and Lions
Dragstrips, Steve Gibbs from Irwindale Dragway and Fremont Drag Strip,
“Hand Grenade” Harry Hibler from San Fernando Raceway, Mike Jones from
Orange County, Don Rackemann from Saugus, Fontana and Riverside, Blackie
Gejeian from Fresno, Chuck Griffith from Pomona and Lou Senter from
Saugus.
It was hosted by legendary NHRA announcer and former Dallas track operator
McClelland, who asked questions about the good old days and bantered back
and forth with the panelists, eliciting riotous, yet revealing remarks.
Typical exchange: McClelland to the soon-to-be 93-year-old Pappy Hart:
“Pappy, you were the brightest guy in the world to start the first
dragstrip. That was so smart.”
Pappy: “That’s right. I’m smart.”
McClelland: “If you’re so smart, why aren’t you driving a Rolls?”
Pappy: “Because I’m a Ford man.”
McClelland, laughing: “This is gonna be a fun day.”
The crowd roared...and that was just the beginning. They laughed and
reminisced throughout the event as the panelists brought the ghost
dragstrips back to life with flavor and feeling.
Many subjects were broached, from driver safety – or lack of it, to noise
laws, tow money, track economics, to, well, cheating. Or as wily Don
Rackemann said, “money can be skimmed from many places.”
Rackemann, who was candid as well as funny, evoked memories with stories
on planes landing on tracks, 13-year-old flag men holding up traffic where
a public street crossed a track during races, and, of course, making
money.
Fessing up to what many already knew, Rackemann explained how he used to
wink at certain drivers before he dropped the flag. For other racers
though, he would nod his head. “A guy’s got to make a buck,” he
deadpanned.
Speaking of money, a lot was discussed on tow money or appearance fees.
Apparently most operators paid in some fashion, but Pappy Hart refused to
concede that he had…for awhile. After many good natured jokes, Hart said
he gave “sympathy money” to some drivers.
Steve Gibbs said he slipped drivers money to make runs at Irwindale, or as
he said they liked to call it, “where the smog meets the rocks.” According
to Gibbs, they actually had a sign at the end of the track which simply
read, “Lots of Rocks.” Gibbs also said Irwindale was known for its food,
especially its hamburgers. “One of the owners of the track owned In-N-Out
Burgers,” he said. “Half the people would talk about the races, the other
half would talk about the great food.”
Another panelist with great stories was Fresno’s Blackie Gejeian. He held
up a photo of four jet dragsters running side by side. Asked how he did
things like that and stayed out of jail, Gejeian just grinned. “We did
things back then we shouldn’t have, but the crowds loved it.” Gejeian also
said having four super-powerful dragsters take off at once did, uh, cause
some problems. “They just about blew off the fence. They also cleaned the
track off – no rocks or anything left.”
Always the showman, Gejeian gave great details on a car that was “burned
down,” how it exploded and flew into the air. “It looked a flying saucer,”
he said. “It was a good show, but the next morning I got a call from the
local high school. They wanted to know how hot metal landed on top of 13
of their school buses.”
Gejeian also told how Frank Pedregon Sr. (father of Cruz, Frank Jr., and
Tony) used to light his car on fire and delight the crowd with a fireball
run. One day his car flipped a few times and disappeared on fire into a
ditch. The only injury was to his wife who broke her leg falling into the
ditch to look for him. Hibler said the very next day Pedregon brought his
car to San Fernando and said if he could get some oil, he’d run it. “The
car was absolutely destroyed and he still wanted to run.”
Apparently lighting cars on fire was a big crowd pleaser back then. Gibbs,
who admitted he likes fireworks, talked about how, after an event, he
filled a dead car with M-80s and gasoline. What he didn’t know was that
his friends doused the car with additional gas when he went to get a fire
extinguisher – just in case. “When I lit the fuse, the car turned into
something from Apocalypse Now.”
Keeping neighbors surrounding the local tracks happy was always fun. Harry
Hibler had some explaining to do when a car launched a head and it landed
in front of a nearby church. “They got pretty upset,” he laughed.
McClelland said they put air conditioning in a local church and the pastor
never complained about the noise again.
Through it all, the camaraderie among the tracks kept them going. Mike
Jones said he was the new guy and used to get razzed by the others. “Steve
Gibbs would call me up in the middle of the night, disguising his voice.
He’d say he was driving the Flying Igloo and wanted to know if I could get
him in the race at the last minute.”
Gibbs, who was known as a racer’s best friend, remembered the closeness
between competitors and how they liked to joke around. He told the story
of how a racer named Connie Swingle (“he used to march to a different
drummer,” Gibbs said), used to do wheel stands in a ratty vehicle aptly
called the Trash Truck. According to Gibbs, Swingle finished his wheel
stand run and decided to do one coming back…even though racer Bob Riggle
was about to do his wheel stand and had no idea what Swingle was up to.
“Connie thought it’d be fun to have both cars meet in the middle doing
wheel stands.” And sure enough, Swingle did it. “Both their wheels were in
the air,” Gibbs said, “but Riggle didn’t see the humor in it.”
Pressed by Greg Sharp, curator of the Parks NHRA Museum, Gibbs told a
heart-warming story of how “Jungle Jim” Lieberman and other drivers
chipped in and gave him an envelope filled with money to keep Fremont
running after rain ruined a race there. “I still get misty when I think
about it” Gibbs said.
Camaraderie, excitement and fun weren’t enough to keep the tracks going,
though. In the end, all succumbed to the same thing: lack of money. All
the operators agreed that the price of the land, plus rising insurance
costs, noise laws etc., were the death knell to the famous tracks.
“There was no ROI, return on investment,” said Rackemann. “Economically
it doesn’t work. The property values are too high.”
“We had a 50-year lease and they bought it out to turn the track into an
office park,” said Jones of the demise of the Orange County track.
“It was hell to lose a track like Fresno,” lamented Gejeian. Shaking his
head, he added, “it’s now a place to park farm equipment.” Hibler said
noise laws closed the San Fernando strip. Griffith, who ran Pomona (the
only vintage So-Cal track still in existence), said noise laws always kept
him at bay as well. “You just have to continue to fight it.”
Fight it they did, up until the end. “It was more enjoyable back then,”
said Jones. There was room for innovation and that was the fun part.”
“Safety came out of all the stuff we did,” said Rackemann, and all agreed.
“We had racers sitting on apple boxes with no safety belts,” Senter said.
“These are the people that staged the races,” McClelland said. “They were
the forerunners for what we have today. We owe them a great deal of
gratitude.”
Famed drag racer Mousie Marcellus was in the audience and told the
panelist, “I want to thank you all. I raced at every one of your tracks
and had a ball.”
NHRA Founder Wally Parks was very touched by the event, telling the
audience and panelists something they’ve longed to hear for years about
the infamous NHRA fuel ban that nearly tore the organization apart 40
years ago. “We thought we were on the right track, doing the right thing,
but we weren’t. It didn’t work and we were wrong. I’m sorry about what
happened and thanks for putting up with us.”
“A day of true confessions,” McClelland said.
“We all felt we were doing the best job we could,” concluded Gibbs. “There
was money to be made, but money to be lost, too. It was a risky business.”
But for one Saturday afternoon at the Parks NHRA Museum, the tracks of the
past were alive and well again, and fun as always.
Named for the founder of the National Hot Rod Association, the Wally Parks
NHRA Motorsports Museum houses the very roots of hot rodding. Scores of
famous vehicles spanning American motorsports history are on display,
including winning cars representing 50 years of drag racing, dry lakes and
salt-flat racers, oval track challengers and exhibits describing their
colorful backgrounds.
The Wally Parks NHRA Motorsports Museum is open Wednesday through Sunday,
10 a.m. to 5 p.m., PST. Current NHRA members are admitted free. Admission
for non-members is $5 for adults, $3 for seniors 60 and older, $3 for
juniors six through 15, and free for children under the age of five. The
Museum is also available for private parties, meetings, corporate events,
weddings and special group tours. The Wally Parks NHRA Motorsports Museum
is located at Fairplex Gate 1, 1101 W. McKinley Ave. in Pomona. For
further information on special exhibits, museum events or directions, call
909/622-2133 or visit
www.nhra.com/museum.
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