THE LATE SIXTIES AND INTO THE SEVENTIES.
   Change is the constant in our lives, it started at the dawn of time, and will continue as long as time lasts. Not being exempt from the constant, stockcar racing was eating up the pre 1941 coupes and sedans at a rapid rate, and would soon need new chassis material to work with. The group that took their stuff to the first NASCAR Sportsman race at Daytona found out the coupes were very difficult to drive at high speed. The next move during this time in stockcar racin's history was to the tube frame, and the Gremlin, Pinto, or Vega sheetmetel (next issue). This was getting to the time of big rubber, sprint car rubber, something that would help those big motors get hooked up.

   The late sixties was a time of changing of the guard, the young guys were knocking at the door. In the later years Pete won 3 features, Wimble 4, Irv only 1, Louie kept on winning, Dave Lape and Jack Johnson started winning.

 
      Jack Johnson.

 
      Kenny Shoemaker.

 

      Mert Hulbert.

 

      Peppy Peppicelli.

 

      Denis Giroux. Not a Fonda regular, but a Canadian asphalt specialist that was successful at nearby Utica-Rome Speedway in the early seventies.

 

      "Fast Eddie" Delmolino.

 

      Harry Peek.
Photos above courtesy of Arnie Ainsworth.
 

   I'll tell you a story that I only tell my closest friends. Ten years ago I had the itch to go racing, loved the winged mini-sprints and bought one (1100 cc Suzuki motor and all). When I got it home I drove the car around the yard to put it in the garage. The car started to coast in ok but the rear wheels hung up and wouldn't roll over the little incline in front of the door opening. Well, when I burped the throttle the thing came to life, the rear wheels jumped and I was in the garage and heading for the back wall. The gas pedal has a strap that fits over the foot to allow the driver to try and pull shut a stuck throttle. I must have nearly pulled the carbs off the motor while nearly tearing the gas pedal loose trying to find the brake pedal. Brakeless we rolled on, and into the lawn mower that finally broke our forward run. Lawnmower a bit twisted, handle needed Dennis to give a little weld job, and after my underwear was changed everything was good to go. I've always wondered, what if I had a brain cramp, floored the gas pedal, driven right through the back wall, across the road and into Cassy's Beauty Parlor. How the hell would I have explained that?

   NEXT: THE GREMLENS.