The Marmon Wasp
Chapter I:
I was in shock. There are few things as exciting and as terrifying as finally getting to walk inside the Marmon Plant, the place where all the greatest cars get made. I felt my knees almost collapse like twigs on a windy day when I took my first step toward the brick building. My brother and father stood behind me watching me as I knocked on the large door. Both of my brothers had been apprentices for Marmon Motor Car Company so thanks to them I had an almost guaranteed spot as a worker here. When no one answered my knock, my father rolled his eyes and pushed open the door. I followed him into the magical place I’d only imagined being in only to be greeted by the strong smell of paint, oil, and sweat all rolled up into one. My brothers and my father led the way and walked around with the familiarity of people who had worked there before and brought me to the office. My father offered me a reassuring smile and nodded at me to knock again, this time on the office of Marmon’s CEO, a Mister O’Malley.
“Come on in!” said a booming voice behind the door. I gathered my courage and slowly pushed open the door, “Mister O’Malley?” I opened the door and was immediately greeted by a large man practically bursting with energy. “Yes! Yes, that’s me! I’m Mr. O’Malley! And you must be James! So good to finally meet you!” He thrust out his hand in greeting but I was so thrown off by the energy that it took me a second to realize that he was trying to shake mine. “H-hello sir, it’s an honor to meet you,” I stuttered as I shook his hand the way my father taught me, firm and with good eye contact.
“Sit down! Sit down! Let’s talk about your apprenticeship!” He collapsed into his large leather chair behind the desk and pointed at a small wooden stool for me to sit on. My father walked in with me and sat on a desk at the side of the room. My brothers stayed outside and offered me a nod as the door closed.
“Ricky! My friend! How’s the leg been? How’s li’l William and Joseph? I think I saw them outside! Not so little anymore huh?” I almost fell off my chair: no one calls my father Ricky; it’s always Rick or Mr. Feldman that I hear. I almost expected Father to lose his temper but instead, he just shook his head and chuckled.
“It’s going quite all right, Frank. The kids are good, leg isn’t as great. Still givin’ me hell early in the morning. And how’s that wallet of yours doing?”
O’Malley shook his head, “Getting lighter and lighter every day. These darn metal horses of mine just don’t go fast enough. So! You’ve brought me a runt to put through the ringer huh? He looks kinda small.” I bit my lip and looked down at my brown, worn-out shoes. I wanted to repudiate but I knew better and kept my mouth shut.
“Yep!” my father said. “He’s a bit small, but he’s got some kick in him. He can run like hell too.”
“He can run huh? Well, I know a few jobs that could use someone like that. He’s probably fine doing some other jobs though… like sorting through mail right? You gotta place to live kid?” I opened my mouth to respond but before I could say anything my father cut in.
“Yeah, he gotta place to stay, about 2 or 3 blocks away from here with some family friends.”
“Good! Good to hear. Oh hey, Ricky have you heard the News?”
“News? I ain’t heard anything! Tell me!”
“Ok, I’ve been hearing some rumors…” Mr. O’Malley paused dramatically and brought his head closer to my father’s. “That there’s going to be a big race right here in Indianapolis.”
“Aww ‘pshaw Frank. That aint news! Races are going on all the time!”
“That’s what I thought! But they say this one’s gonna be big, the stadium will be huge, and racers from all over the country I hear some are even coming from Europe to compete. Winner gets $30,000!”
“Wow almost makes me want to be a shoe?” The two men burst out into booming laughter while I just sat there wondering whether the interview part was over.
While they were talking and catching each other up on the things that had happened since they last saw one another I took the opportunity to look around. I noticed the ugly green carpet and a trail of mud coming from the door to my hand-me-down shoes. Oops! I felt the cool breeze as the fan above me circled, and I heard the laughter of my father. I even leaned back a bit and as the sun jumped into view right at my eyes, I blinked in surprise and quickly leaned forward again. I tried imagining all the fun things I would do at Marmon when I remembered that I should probably pay attention.
“Well! Great talking to you old pal but it’s time to get on with the tour!” Mr. O’Malley said begrudgingly.
“Oh, nonsense! Not the tour! I’ve taken it twice already. Just give it to him on his first day.”
“Alright fine. I guess I’ll be seeing you later Ricky.” He got up to shake his hand and my father did too signaling to me that it was time to go.
I got up quickly and pushed my stool in, “Thank you, Mr. O’Malley, it was a pleasure meeting you.” I said this just as my mother taught me.
“No no! The pleasure was all mine! I’ll see you soon James!”
We arrived home just as the sun was beginning to set and I was greeted with the smell of chicken soup. My stomach rumbled as I jumped out of our family’s car and dashed to the open door, my feet kicking up dust and rocks. My mother was a fantastic cook, but if you ever interrupted her while she was cooking she would be very angry, but if you didn’t respond in time when Mother shouted dinner she would also be very angry. In short, she had a temper. She was a stout woman with the only dark brown hair in our family, as the rest of us got our light brown hair from Father. Her face was always set in a scowl and since she was also my teacher I got a few whacks from anything she would be holding in her hand for my behavior. I jumped through the door and quickly sat down in my seat and gave my mother a big toothy grin.
“Hi Mama!” I said quickly, digging my spoon into the delicious-looking soup. WHACK! I saw and heard the wooden spoon in her hand hit my hand before I felt it.
“What’d you do that for huh Mama?!”
“Wait till your brothers and your father sit down! Where are your manners!” I looked outside and saw my brothers carrying in spare parts for a wagon that my father had bought at the market. My father had this wagon and even though it was constantly in disrepair and we had a car he insisted on always fixing it and trying to get it to move without the entire thing falling apart.
“Thanks James,” Joseph said sarcastically as he sat in his seat and gave me a glare.
“None of that Joseph! Let’s eat!” Mother shouted as we all began eating the meal.
While we were eating my mother asked me, “So did the interview go well?”
“Yeph it went really well!” I said with my mouth still half full. Mother glared at me but thankfully didn’t comment on my manners, or lack thereof.
“He’ll be going into town in a few days for a tour and an orientation,” my father said.
“Wait by himself? Isn’t that a little dangerous? He’s a bit young.”
“He’ll be fine!” my father said in a conciliating tone. “He can handle himself, right kid?” I nodded along not wanting to involve myself.
“Fine, just be careful okay James?” I nodded again and finished my meal, excused myself, and collapsed in bed tired.
Chapter II:
The rooster crowed. My eyes opened begrudgingly as I slowly blinked away the tiredness. I never wanted to move out of my comfortable bed. I felt as if I had just closed my eyes to go to sleep. My mind was full of potential scenarios and thoughts of the next day, so much so that I couldn’t fall asleep. The next day… Why was I thinking of the next day? WAIT TODAY IS THE DAY. I threw off my blankets and jumped out of bed only to stumble right back onto it, as my mind had woken before my body, and I needed a second to let my body catch up. I stood up again and looked around my small room. There wasn’t much to look at. My two older brothers shared a room cause they were so close in age but since I was the young one I got my own room, but the downside was that it was small. I had my bed in one corner, and a dresser in another. There was a small desk with some papers on it filled with half-finished problems and doodles of cars… and dust collecting everywhere. I threw on the most appropriate clothes I could find and stood in front of my small mirror. I took a deep breath and walked out of the room. I can’t remember any of the details, but I know I ate breakfast, said goodbye to my family, got onto the train to Indianapolis and Marmon factories, and before that, settled in with my host family the Davis’s.
Once again, I faced the door of Mister O’Malley. I knocked and waited patiently for him to answer, but I heard no movement on the other side. I slowly pushed open the door and peeked my head through. “Mister O’Malley?” He wasn’t in the room and I know the normal thing to do was to just leave the room, but as soon as I started stepping back I noticed a letter on the main desk addressed to me. Of course, curiosity won. So I opened it. The letter read:
Dear James Feldman,
Welcome to the factory! Couldn’t be at the factory today, terribly sorry. Please send the note under this letter to Ray.
Good luck on your first day,
Mr. O’Malley
Hmmm. Not exactly how I wanted to start my first day. And wait. Is this the Ray that I think they’re saying?? I left the office and began searching for the Ray Harroun.
See, the Marmon Motor Car Company was originally part of a bigger company that manufactured flour mill grinding equipment in the late 19th century. Eventually, they branched out and in 1902, Marmon Motor Car Company was founded by Howard Carpenter Marmon. After a few years of experimenting with different types of cars, they finally settled on one, and Marmon became known for their reliable and fast cars. Marmon had some drivers too, drivers who represented them in races and with their cars. Ray Harroun was the team’s number-one driver and was already a very successful winner. He won many big racing events including The Wheatley Hills Sweepstakes. The Wheatley Hills Sweepstakes, located in Long Island, New York, was actually a bit of a bust. Ray Harroun was the only one to finish the race, the only one to finish out of 4 racers.
Now, one of the greatest cars built by Marmon Motor Car Company was the Wasp. This was all built for speed, and it was the first car to have only one seat (no seat for the engineer who usually rode with the driver in races). Ray was obviously the choice for this speedy car.
An interesting fact is that the Marmon Wasp already had some history on the track. Two days after the Wheeler-Schebler win, a 200-mile race, the Wasp blew a tire and slammed into a wall on the northeast turn. By his lucky stars, Ray Harroun walked away uninjured. The car however did not look too good. The damage was so bad the people at Marmon considered scrapping it.
I was currently in the office building and I started heading towards all the clanging and banging in the back. When I opened the door to the main factory I was immediately hit by even more noise, car engines, tools clanging, and people murmuring, and by an overpowering and complex odor. I remembered smelling this in Mr. O’Malley’s office but it was so much stronger now that I was at the source. Sweat, paint, oil, and car exhaust attacked my nose and I felt my eyes begin to water.
“Hah the smell’s pretty bad huh? Don’t worry about it you’ll get used to it.”
I turned and said, “I don’t think I can ever get used to this.” He chuckled and shook my hand.
“I’m Charlie, and you must be our new guy.” Charlie looked to be about 20-25 years old. He had smudges of grease all over his face and brown floppy hair atop his head.
“Yep! First day today. I’m James.”
“Well James, it’s nice meeting you. I’m one of the head engineers in this place so if you ever need anything, come find me.” I thanked him and was about to leave before I realized what I had in my hand.
“Hey! Actually Charlie, I could use some help right now finding where Ray is. I got a message for him from Mr. O’Malley.” “Yeah, no problem kid. He’s in the far corner all the way over there you see?” he said pointing. “He likes to be in a secluded area to do his work.” I thanked Charlie and started heading towards Ray.
I remember reading about Ray Harroun winning race after race and I guess because of that I kind of imagined him as a god. I wasn’t expecting him to be standing there regally with the aura of a supreme being, but I also wasn’t expecting him to be yelling at himself as he paced frantically. I watched for a while, feeling a rush of emotions. Excitement, from seeing a hero that I’d read about my entire life. Disappointment, from him not being exactly as I imagined. And confusion, from what was causing him so much stress. After recovering, I coughed to try and get his attention.
“What?!” He abruptly turned towards me. I took a step back in surprise. “What do you want??”
“Uh, uh, j-just a message from Mr. O’Malley. Sorry to disturb you” After seeing my expression he shook his head. “No, no, I’m sorry. That was incredibly rude of me. Hello son, I’m Ray Harroun.” He reached out his hand and I shook it. “Hello Mr. Ray, I’m James and today is my first day. Are you having some trouble with work?”
“Hah! Yes, you must have seen all that pacing. Err sorry ‘bout that, just helps me think.”
“Ray! We need some help over here with this engine!” Ray turned to me.
“Well, I must get going!” I handed him the note.
“Thank you for delivering this. I hope to see you again.” And with that, he walked off towards the engine in need of repair. As I watched him walk away, I realized that now that I’d delivered the letter, I had nothing to do. So, with a grin on my face, I began exploring the factory. Charlie was right though, for after about 10 minutes my eyes stopped watering and I got used to the smell. The feeling had finally set in. I was in the Marmon Factory. I was in the building where they produced the most amazing cars. I took a deep breath and felt like this, this factory, was where I belonged: with the clanging of the tools, the yelling of men as they argued over materials, the engines, some sputtering and some steadily purring, with all this, I somehow felt at peace in this chaos. I felt excited to start my life here, to grow up, and become so much more. This feeling was so empowering I smiled and-
“Hey! Watch it run!” WHAM! I felt a large shoulder slam into my head and I was knocked down to the ground. “Get your head out of the clouds!” A large burly man stood above me sneering at me. As I scrambled back up, my cheeks bright red, I heard laughter around me, only brightening my cheeks even more.
For the rest of the day, I had trouble having a good time. I received some friendly smiles while walking around but my head was down and I didn’t notice them. I did notice, however, the laughs hidden behind hands, the smirks as they noticed me, and the outright glares from some workers. Lunch was just as terrible. I sat on top of a toolbox in the corner of the factory. I didn’t even taste the lunch that my mother so devotedly packed for me. I just kept my head down and ate as fast as possible. Nearing the end of my workday, I was already begging for this apprenticeship to be over. I was planning the speech I would give to my parents, the speech to somehow convince them to relieve me of this apprenticeship. I could picture their disappointment as they saw their son quit on their first day and my eyes began brimming with tears as I imagined how the scene would play out.
“Hey Jimmy! Jimmy!” I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and was greeted by Ray breathing hard. “Hey son, I was calling your name!”
“Oh sorry, Ray I was a bit distracted.”
“No worries. I talked to that idiot who pushed you and gave him a piece of my mind. He won’t mess with you again. Anyway, I was looking for you during lunch break, but I couldn’t find you. I wanted to tell you what the letter you delivered to me said. It said that Mr. O’Malley wanted you to be my assistant, that you would work with me and help me out around the factory. Is that ok with you?” I stood there, shocked.
“Y-yes! Yes! I would love to work with you! That would be amazing!”
“Great Jimmy, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I was so happy I didn’t even notice him saying my name wrong.
“Goodbye, Ray!” And despite what felt like a terrible day, I left the factory with a smile on my face.
Chapter III:
Weeks flew as I was put to work by Mr. Ray. I was a bit disappointed at first when he had me doing errands and mundane jobs like grabbing food, but it gave me the chance to explore. Mr. Ray always loved the sandwiches from Kings Deli on Capitol Avenue which meant a quick 10-minute trolley ride deeper into the heart of the bustling city of Indianapolis. I always loved getting those sandwiches though, because sometimes Ray would give me a little more than what the sandwich cost so I could get something for myself. On dreary days, it would rain which meant walking… because the dirt roads quickly turned into mud, mud that would greedily sink the carriages, blocking the road and preventing any other vehicles from passing. Sometimes Ray would ask for odd things like a helmet or a small handheld mirror. Finding these objects was always difficult, and I got lost a few times. Fortunately, Marmon Factories was a well-known location so I could always ask for directions. I also talked to Ray quite often about many things and noticed he had two moods which he often switched between for hours at a time. The first mood was the frantic pacing mood I first encountered when I met him. When an idea popped into his head and wouldn’t leave, he’d pace. The second, however, was a much more relaxed loose version and that’s when I really got to talk with him. I learned that he had a son a little younger than I am now. I also learned more about cars. As it turns out, driving race cars is incredibly dangerous and that’s what attracted so many spectators. The thrill of seeing boxes on wheels traveling up to 70 miles an hour potentially hurtling to their death, despite being grim, delighted me. Racecars were unreliable, tire blowouts were common, as were oil leakages which caused explosions, and cars careening out of control. Cars also frequently flipped upside down, crushing the driver. Bets were made during races on whether the driver would live or die. Many towns and cities banned racing and many more believed it should be made illegal.
I enjoyed hearing all of Ray’s exploits, exploits that usually ended in failure. After a while, I started seeing Ray less as a god and more as a friend. Marmon Factories started to become my home. Every day I would wake up, get on the bus, and head straight to the back of the factory, where I would always find Ray sitting there with a task for me at the ready. After walking around the city I’d get back to the factory where I would eat my lunch with Ray and get working. Sometimes I would do manual labor, and other times I would help him improve the Marmon. My favorite time, however, would be when Ray decided he wanted a break and would sit with me on the roof of the factory. Up there it was so peaceful and calm. We would sit on the roof watching the people on the streets scuttle around like ants, walking wherever they were trying to go to do whatever they needed or wanted to do.
Chapter IV:
The first time I heard mention of the International Sweepstakes was when I was coming back from Kings Deli, with a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a wrapped one with the name Ray on it in the other. I was munching contentedly on the trolley when I overheard a couple talking.
“Well, now it seems like those rich men running the Indianapolis Motor Speedway found a way to get richer. Look how desperate these fools look talkin’ about a 500-mile race called the International Sweepstakes!” She passed the newspaper she was reading to her husband. The husband took the newspaper and read for a short amount of time, clearly developing a quite different opinion from the wife.
“Helen, what are you talking about?? This looks fantastic!” You could see the excitement bursting from his face. He was obviously a racing enthusiast. “This race could forever change the entire industry of racing! We have to attend this!”
They continued talking as they exited the trolley. That was the first time I heard about the race. It grew exponentially throughout the day. The newspaper the couple was reading was also printed everywhere. I walked into the factory and immediately noticed it was incredibly quiet. There was still shuffling and murmuring but no clanging, no yelling, and no engines on. I also noticed three crowds of people crowding around one person in different areas of the factory. All three of the crowds were dead quiet as the person in the middle read the very same newspaper I had just seen the couple read earlier.
I walked past these groups scanning each of their faces for Ray. I wanted to talk to him about what was going on. As I passed each group I caught snatches of the articles and the men murmuring:
“This could be the beginning of a new era.”
“The international sweepstakes is bogus.”
“It says right here that racers from all over the world will be here representing motor car companies! That could mean Ray!”
The last sentence gave me a moment of pause. Ray?? In the race? That would be incredible! I rushed to Ray’s office to congratulate him and see if he knew any more details. I saw him on the phone talking with someone with a grin so wide his cheeks were all scrunched up on the side of his face. When he saw me, he waved me over and gave me a thumbs-up. Pretty soon I was smiling just like him.
As more weeks passed I was put to work like never before. I noticed a change immediately in the workplace. Organized chaos erupted in the factory as everyone began preparing for the big race. I had less and less time to myself, staying long hours and, much to my mother’s dismay, skipping weekends when I would go see my family. I was working so much that occasionally I would fall asleep in Ray’s office, only to be awakened by men coming into the factory as the moon slowly inched toward the horizon. I also noticed a change in the way people acted around me. I was no longer the new guy but Ray’s right-hand man and I loved it. But not as much as Ray did. As he walked through the factory he would get looks of praise and respect. People would come up to encourage him all throughout the day.
There were changes all around the factory but the biggest change was in the city. People from all over the world were flooding into the small city of Indianapolis. Hotels and buildings were filled up, stores running out of things to sell, and cars and horses clogging up the road; it was madness. There were car enthusiasts, curious families, young adults wanting to see what the fuss was about, vendors taking advantage of the crowd, and racing companies fighting for attention. Newspapers were all over this race as they described the anticipation and energy coming from the crowd: “Sweeping down upon the city in a cloud of dust; bussing, sputtering, droning; leather capped, goggled, ulstered and grimy…” (The Sun); trains “vomited forth thousands of dirty but happy passengers” (Automobile Topics). And as The Star so eloquently put it, everyone should brace themselves for “the largest slumber party in history.” People were sleeping on the ground and any place they could find – you couldn’t even walk into a public bathroom now without having to wait in line for hours. And all of this, for one race.
Chapter V
My eyes opened to darkness. After a moment of confusion, I realized I had fallen asleep on Ray’s couch. I sat up and felt around, guided by only the pale light from the moon to find the light switch. Flicking the switch sent a flood of light rushing toward my eyes and made me regret turning it on in the first place. Once I got used to the light I checked the clock. 1:57. Why am I up so early?? Knowing from experience, once I woke up I couldn’t fall asleep so I resigned myself to beginning my workday much earlier. I didn’t turn all the lights on just yet because I wanted to enjoy this moment of peace. I walked around the factory until I ended up right in front of the Marmon Wasp. I realize after so many hours working on the Wasp I never had a moment to just admire it. It was a beautiful car, built for speed with a tail like a stinger. The one-seater was our key to victory, most racing cars had 2 seats, for the racer and the mechanic. This car had only one, which meant that it would be much lighter and therefore much faster. For a brief second, I imagined myself in the seat, crossing the finish line and hearing the roar of the crowd. I smiled at my daydream (or was it a nightdream?) and watched the moon sink into the horizon. For a while, I was content to just stand there looking at the moon as it looked back at me. Eventually, it drifted out of the window frame and I stood in the complete dark. After working in this factory for months I could still hear all the clanging and yelling but I embraced the peacefulness. There weren’t many moments of quiet nowadays so I just sat on the ground and listened to nothing. I fell into a half-sleep; aware of my surroundings but not the time. Too soon I heard the grumble and shuffling of men outside as they walked into the factory. I stood up, brushed the dust off my pants, and got to work. The day was filled with small fixes and modifications of the Marmon Wasp as we prepared for what was now the biggest race of all time. As I was trying to solve a crisis involving a potential tire blowout threat, I heard the office door slam and I saw Ray storming into his corner. I followed him curiously and when I walked in I could see on his face anger, sadness, and a bit of resignation.
“Ray, what’s wrong?” He looked up noticing me. “Oh hey kid, it’s looking like I’m not going to be allowed to race.”
“What?? Why?”
“Well, they think I’m a danger to myself and the other racers because of my one-seater.” I’d heard this before. There’d been some commotion stirred up by the crowds and other racers. The mechanician was there to keep the car in good shape and also to navigate. Without one, Ray wouldn’t be able to see behind him. I grew angry. Although many of these people said this out of concern, others said this to get the Marmon Wasp out of the race.
I sat on the desk facing Ray.
“What are you going to do?” I said, hoping he had a genius idea.
“Honestly Jimmy, I’m not sure. There may be nothing I can do.” My heart deflated a little when I heard the sadness in his voice. I wanted to do something to help him. We sat in silence for a good while. I tried my best to brainstorm but all I could focus on was the emotion in Ray’s eyes. It hurt watching the hero you grew up admiring and now your closest friend in pain.
“C’mon Ray, there’s gotta be something. There has to be.”
“James! There’s nothing we can do!”
“No, Ray! There’s something! I know there is!” Ray stood up, quite angry.
“James just stop! Give up man! Unless you have a tiny 6-inch mechanician in your pocket who can look behind for me then-” He paused, looked at me in shock, looked around the room in shock then dashed to his desk drawer. He pulled it open with such force the whole desk shook as he rummaged through it like a madman. Finally, he stopped. He reached in and pulled out a small mirror.
“Jimmy. Let’s get to work, I’ve got an idea.” He thrust the mirror towards me and I felt the frantic energy of an idea desperate to be released all around Ray.
“Listen, I’ll be right back. I need approval from the big man and I need to enlist some help. Thank you man thank you. This is it! This is going to work. I can feel it! Ok here’s what you’re going to do.” Instructions flew at me as Ray began pacing with so much energy I was afraid he’d make scorch marks on the floor. As he explained his plan it all started falling into place and pretty soon I was just like him, eager to get out there and start working. He rushed out of the office to talk to Mr. O’Malley and I rushed out and grabbed a toolbox and some workers who looked quite bemused as a kid started ordering them around. Eventually, they understood the gravity of the situation and got themselves organized. A few men ran out to grab more mirrors while others grabbed blueprints work tables and more tools. As I was working I had moments of extreme clarity and the rest was just hazy. I felt sweaty hands pass me a tool I needed, I heard the sound of men rushing into and out of the factory, and most of all I saw my reflection as I worked on the mirror. I had a crazed look in my eyes. My hair stuck to my face as sweat dripped down my forehead. When Ray got back we were working on the second one and he helped make small modifications. Finally, we finished. Ray and I smiled proudly at each other, then towards the mirrors. We attached them to the car and at long last, the Marmon Wasp was done.
Chapter VI:
The deafening roar of the crowd did not help drown the worries and emotions so loudly playing at the front of my mind. Everybody was here. Everybody I had ever talked to, passed on the street, and worked with was here. But more than that, my heroes were here. Racers I had looked up to were standing just a few hundred feet away. Racers who were retired like Mulford, Louis Chevrolet, Bill Endicott, Lytle, and Aiken were all here to participate. They unretired just to be here for this race. There were so many types of cars, cars that looked like they were being held together with tape and hope, and others that seemed to push away the dust with their sheer beauty. Ralph Mulford, one of my heroes, was driving a Detroit-made Lozier which obviously cost him a fortune. Another driver that caught viewers’ eyes was Louie Disbrow. With raw speed and a coldhearted driver at the wheel, the Connecticut-made Pope Hartford emitted power. Another worry I had was the distance. I didn’t realize how long 500 miles was until I was told the race would take around 7 hours. 7 hours?? 7 hours of driving – adrenaline couldn’t last that long but adrenaline was what you needed in racing. Could the cars even last that long?? I brought this up with Ray and he agreed. He found the best relief driver he could, to take his spot when he got tired. His name was Cyrus Patschke and I had only met him once. He seemed competent enough that Ray was satisfied. Then the news got even worse. His starting position would be the 28th spot. According to Ray, this was not good, starting so far behind would make it incredibly difficult to win the race. I could tell he was nervous. I’ve been around him for months and I could see his feet itching to pace and his eyes constantly flicking from one car to another. I felt quite jumpy too, my legs refused to stand still, and my hands constantly moved, looking for something to do. I looked back at the Marmon crew. I’ve worked right beside them for months now, I’ve grown close to many of them and I’ve earned their respect. Working with them and with Ray has been such a great experience. “RACERS TO YOUR STARTING POSITIONS” I jumped at the loud noise which was soon followed by even louder cheering. I saw Ray say goodbye to his family and rush over to me. He put a hand on my shoulder with a smile on his face, “Hey Jimmy. This is it. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you man.”
I felt my eyes tear up but before I could say anything he waved at the crowd renewing their fervent cheers. He gave me his signature grin and ran over to his car.
Epilogue:
On May 30, 1911, the first Indianapolis 500 took place. 40 cars drove up at the starting line and only 11 finished. The race (for Ray Harroun) lasted 6 hours and 42 minutes. He was first. His name will always be remembered as the first Indy 500 winner. The Indy 500 continues to this day and is one of the biggest sporting events in the world. Harroun had a 74.59 mph average and received a 14,250 prize. Now, racing cars average 200 mph, and the prize for winning is roughly 10 million dollars.
