The Yearbook and Mr. No In the summer of ’65, at the age of 12, I rode three days cross-country on a Greyhound bus from Columbus, Ohio to Bellingham, Washington to spend the summer with a family friend, Dr. Carter Broad, Professor of biology at Western Washington State. At the end of summer I made the long trip back, this time across the Canadian Rockies. Mom and Dad made the trip a little shorter by meeting me at the bus station in Indianapolis. To make my trip extra special we spent the night at the Speedway Motel across from the famed Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The next morning they took me to the speedway where we visited the museum and took a lap around the track, pretty cool stuff. Afterwards Dad was ready to hit the road for Columbus. It was then I spoke up and asked if we could visit another racetrack, the one where they held the NHRA Nationals. This caught them both a little off-guard for I’m sure they figured they had shown me everything a little gear head could ever ask for. Nonetheless, Dad asked the nearest gas station attendant for directions to this other racetrack. “ Oh yeah, you want to go out that way to Claremont and make a left at the main entrance”, as the attendant point down the road. As we drove down the long entrance road to the track things started taking on an official appearance as if something special was going on just around the next bend. Dad said he didn’t think we should go any further and perhaps we could get into some trouble. Mom retorted, “Oh hell Louie, just keep going till someone says we can’t go any further, …all they can say is NO”. I’m getting more scared as we get closer to the timing tower, a small group of people and several stock Ford Galaxies running down the track. “See Jean Ann, here comes Mr. No”. This clean dressed gentleman walks up to our ’60 Chevy wagon and asks, “What can I do for you folks”. After Dad tells him our story Mr. No proceeds to tell us about press day, the NHRA, the up coming points meet at our home track in Columbus and hands us a press kit with a 1965 Nationals yearbook inside. Turns out this was press day, a week before the 11th running of the U.S. Nationals at the track, Indianapolis Raceway Park, Mr. No helped build and manage for many years to come. I always cherished that press kit keeping it in its original folder in a box with my other prized possessions. I returned to Indy several times in my teens as a gopher with JEG’s and later the Rod Shop. As much as I loved the sport those early years made me realize I’d have a tough time trying to make it as a racer, a parent and a provider. My last trip to Indy and drag racing was 1971. Now, some 30 odd years later my little brother, Eric, Sr. VP of marketing for Motel-6 & Accor hotels, the kid who use to hitch-hick to National Trail Raceway every Sunday with me and crawl through the corn field at the end of the track in order to afford a cheeseburger for lunch and dinner, sets me up with passes for the 50th running of the U.S. Nationals. No sneaking in here, we’re talking passes to the NHRA hospitality suite on the trackside terrace and the Wally Parks tower next to the starting line. Only ONE problem, this Labor Day will be Thelma and I’s 22nd wedding anniversary. Oh well, I was well aware of this little issue when she asked for that date in the spring of ’82. Three weeks before the historic race Thelma walks in and hands me tickets for flight & rental car and says “Happy Anniversary”. She overheard me explaining to our 16-year-old son, Chris, what a monumental and historic event Indy would be this year. Needless to say my brother put me in the closest hotel to the track and made sure I had credentials that St. Peter and even Mr. No couldn’t question. The night before leaving on my six-day odyssey I crawled up in the attic and uncovered my box of prized possessions, which included my coveted 1965 Nationals Yearbook. It’s been over 15 years since I last looked at it. As I showed it to Chris I told him the story of Mom & Dad and Mr. No. Mr. No is actually Mr. Bob Daniels, the NHRA Division 3 Director for many years. Division 3 covered six states included Ohio and Indiana. At that point I decided my primary mission of this trip would be to find Bob and his wife Eileen and complete the circle by having them autograph the yearbook. By the way, there would be no Division 3 without Eileen Daniels. The yearbook turned out to be a bigger hit than I ever imagined. A lot of the sports pioneers who attend the race and the original racecars on display that Bob & Eileen put together had a ball looking through the yearbook. Some said it would be an honor to sign it. Thanks Thelma, Eric, Bob & Eileen for making this a special trip.

And thanks Mom & Dad for taking the time to show me a good time in the summer of ’65.

Bob Daniels with the yearbook he gave me in 1965. Thanks Bob for completing this 39-year circle.

John Peters and Bob Muravez creators and drivers of the famous dual – engine “Freight Train”.

Eileen Daniels, the iron fist of Division 3.

Ron Anderson current manager of Indianapolis Raceway Park paging through the yearbook.

Melvin Heath, winner of the 1956 Nationals. After the awards ceremony on Sunday morning he invited me up on stage for a picture with him. He had signed the yearbook two days earlier and remembered how much it meant to me.

One of my heroes growing up was “Ohio George Montgomery”,

one of the winningest drivers at Indy in the ‘60’s. I spent 45 minutes talking with George. Here, he is going through the yearbooks official entry list for 1965. This man is an engineer without the sheepskin.

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Some of the graybeards who managed the first Nationals are still working today. They had a ball looking through the yearbook during the rain delay on Thursday morning. They could name everyone in the book. Wish I could have recorded some of thstories they told. What history they can tell of this great American sport they helped create.

It was with a heavy heart and welling of the eyes that I left Indy. Thanks Thelma, Eric, Bob & Eileen and Mom & Dad.

The last signature was Big Daddy Don Garlits. I asked him to sign the cover because that’s him on the front cover winning the ’64 Nationals. He said it was the best thing he had signed all day and it would be an honor. I also asked his wife Pat to sign it, for there would be no Big Daddy without her. She said she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her for her autograph. Don said the car behind me was the sister car to the one on the yearbook cover.

The gold colored car in the background was the first car to make a run down the ¼ mile at the first Nationals in 1955. They made a pass with it to start qualifications Saturday night. Good Stuff.