My 'crush' back in the mid-1970s in Illinois was a Hoosier man. I think we'd been seeing each other for a year or two when I asked, "When are you going to take me to the Indy 500"? I had no idea then how complicated that was, but it was the very next May that he came up with tickets. His parents, long-time residents of the Greencastle, Indiana, area, had two tickets that they were ready to give up...and so we took on the whole race thing. The tickets were in an area of Stand B at the outside end south end of the track, just about where the pit road re-enters the track. They were great seats--under a canopy of upper seats, and in a spot that made it possible to see all of the front straightaway, turn one, turn two, a little bit of the back straight, and the cars as they rounded the bend on turn four. Fantastic!
A whole bunch of the seats in that area of Stand B were "owned" by friends of Joe's folks, Emma Kay and husband, who farmed out the tickets to people who wanted them. We paid for next year's tickets on this year's race day, thus insuring the same seats, year after year. Then Joe made a bold move and told Emma Kay that if she ever had two more to do away with, we'd take them. As it happened, the very next year, she did. Thereafter, we had four tickets. In the meantime, Joe and I were married, and the year after that, we had our daughter. We invited my sister and husband to join us at the 500 for years, and they were always up to the challenge.
We ventured to the 500 from Illinois, staying with his parents in Indiana for the weekend. Greencastle to Indy isn't a big stretch. My sister and bro-in-law joined us, staying in a motel nearby. It became a tradition, with other traditions in store! Here are some of my 500 memories, in no order at all:
1. In the beginning, the track had timing lights that the drivers were supposed to use during 'cautions' in order to help them keep their intervals between cars to prevent from advancing positions just because of the caution. A couple of years after that, the lights were gone, and the track had approved the "bunch-up" rule. The cars still had to maintain their position in line, but not their interval behind the car in front of them. Thus, when the green flag was finally dropped again, it was like Lap One all over again.
2. I was breastfeeding my daughter in May of 1979. She was only two months old when I left her with her paternal grandparents for the duration of the race. In those days, some of the restrooms under the stands consisted of plywood stalls over a cement trough with water that ran through them (seriously)...and I found myself in one of those stalls pumping my sore and engorged breasts, and feeling like a total idiot.
3. I learned the hard way that fried chicken is the lunch of choice for the race. One year, early on, as we were leaving the stands at the end of the race, we went past a pool of vomit on the ground. A man with his young son also walked by it. The child looked down and said, "Oh look, Daddy. Chicken!" Turned my stomach!
4. One year, a hapless squirrel was walking along the retaining wall, trying to make his was from the outside to the inside of the track while the race was going on. Everyone was cheering for the squirrel, and cheered even louder when he succeeded...but...this story doesn't have a happy ending. At one point, although I didn't see it and heard nothing from anyone who did, the track truck had to come along and scoop up his poor dead body. I hated that.
5. One time, during a looong rain delay, the fans got bored and came up with their own entertainment while waiting to see if the track could be dried so the race could go on. Someone in our area sent a beach ball aloft. It was kicked around for quite awhile. And someone else started a "wave". The wave went all the way around the track, and then some. It was even announced on the track PA that "We have the first ever one-lap wave." Mindless crowd entertainment!
6. Because we approached the race from Greencastle, which was about 40 miles out, we always left early. One year when my daughter was about 5 or 6, my brother-in-law's back went out on the evening before the race. I watched as he crawled up the steps to my in-laws' house on his hands and knees. I knew he was in major pain, and soon enough, early on Race Day, they called to say they wouldn't be able to attend. We decided to ask our daughter, Megan, if she wanted to go. I think I woke her up somewhere along about 5:30 AM, not knowing what to expect. Well! That child shot up out of bed and had herself dressed and ready to go in short order! We were able to sell the other available ticket to a scalper (which is legal in Indiana) for a fraction of what it was worth. Still, it was a good day for Megan!
7. The Snake Pit used to be a place in the infield in Turn One where people put lawn chairs on top of pickup trucks and vans, and then did stupid stuff. Not too may years later, stands were put there and the real Snake Pit was gone...but the Speedway people used the term to refer to an area of the infield with a much better reputation.
8. One year, for reasons I no longer recall, Megan and I walked the half-mile of the infield, northto south, after the race. There was an enormous amount of trash everywhere, and the smell of urine and beer was overwhelming!
9. When The Divorce happened, I no longer had any of the tickets. Since they were not in our/my name, I could not legally force my ex to give me custody of two tickets. Long, sad story. I went through a number of years determined that I would go to the race without those tickets...and did. One time, I was in turn three. Couldn't see a a thing. Another time, I was in the Pagoda area, rubbing elbows with drivers' wives, but still couldn't see much (and those seats were in the sun). Another time, I was on the ground level, directly across from the pits. Still couldn't see all that I was used to seeing....so finally, I gave up. Three years ago, I had the chance to go again, to those same grand seats, so invited my sister who came from Illinois for a gal's weekend. It was fun!
10. For several years, we had tickets to the Saturday Drivers' Meeting at the track where we got to watch instructions for drivers and tour the garage area. There was a dress code. People in shorts and tank tops were not allowed in. Also, we made it a tradition--along with my sister and bro-in-law--to go up to 16th Street and Georgetown Road on Saturday just to watch the crazy partiers, secure our parking spot for the next morning, and buy trinkets from the kiosks and booths. You could see it all on Saturdays...and again the next day. I gained a lot of respect for Indiana police assigned to Race Weekend in Indy. They generally looked the other way for regular nonsense but would arrest for people who were flagrantly violating the laws--especially if they were being indecent. I can only imagine the tales they can tell!
11. For several years, long after I had lost the tickets in The Divorce, I worked the race as a "volunteer" earning money for my radio club. We worked the main gate. Had to be there early. It was our job to check coolers and bags for contraband (anything in glass, weapons, etc.) and rip tickets as people entered IMS. When the gate first opened and people just trickled in, the job was easy. When the crowd increased, it got busy very fast. We were ripping tickets as fast as we could without even looking up...and eventually would be told by the team leader that we could no longer check every bag. Just check some randomly. (It would have been easy to sneak in something illegal then!)
12. Some first-timers at the race thought that IMS was "dry" like the rest of Indiana on Sunday, not understanding that they could bring in all the alcohol they could fit in their coolers as long as it wasn't in glass bottles. They would hide their booze at the very bottom of their coolers, underneath a lot of cans of pop and bottles of water. Other first-timers, upon hearing that they couldn't bring their glass bottles of beer into the gate, would stand just outside the gate and drink it all rather than waste it. The more experienced track-goers would walk in at 8:00 AM or earlier with an open can of beer in hand, already three-sheets to the wind.
13. As track workers, we had to wear black shoes, black slacks, a yellow Safety Patrol shirt (provided by IMS) and an IMS ball cap (also provided). Trust me: the outfit was not at all flattering to females. Fortunately, I never ever saw anyone I knew come through Gate One, and I was grateful for that. I already mentioned that we ripped tickets just as fast as we could in order to move the throngs of people in as quickly as we could, most of the time without even looking up. One young man in a jovial mood commented to me, "I'll bet you were a 'looker' in your day!" He was totally unaware of the insulting nature of what he'd just said until he got just past me. I stopped and turned around to give him a "what did you just say?' glance, at which point, he started stumbling all over his words in fake apology. It was funny!
14. While working the race, the volunteers were relieved of our responsibilities once the race started (used to be at 11:00 AM). Gate One had a pitch-in picnic in the grass just inside the gate. Most of us stayed for that. Some of us went up to the stands to watch the beginning of the race before starting the trek home. Getting out of IMS during the race was tricky. We were stationed at the south end of IMS on Georgetown and 16th. We were parked at the staff lot clear up at the north end and beyond. The distance was at least a mile. The shuttles that took us from the lot to the gate at 5:30 in the morning could not run once the spectators were there, so unless we could wangle a ride on a golf cart (which was really not kosher), we had to walk. And some of us had problems with that. That was one of the things that convinced the radio club that maybe we needed to find other ways to raise funds!
15. In all my years at the 500, as a spectator and/or a worker, the weather ran the gamut of cold to unbearably hot. Several years, it rained...and one year, it sleeted on us. (I suppose that could have been tiny hail...but what's the difference?) One year when we were working the race, one of our number in the radio club who had been listening to ham radio, announced that a Skywarn net was being called up because severe weather was on its way. I believe he said "Tornado warning for Hendricks County"--which is where we all live. We hightailed it home as fast as we could. I got out of my black pants and put on some shorts, then stayed glued to my ham radio as the storm approached and spotters were sent out. One of our guys spotted a tornado on the ground, headed in the direction of where my daughter and family lived (on Friendswood Golf Course). I called Meg and told her. She said, "What should we do?" I said, "I think you should take cover." I'm quite certain I have written about this story before. I was fine until someone reported on the radio reported "heavy damage to Friendswood Golf Course". Then I freaked out! When the storm passed, Meg no longer answered her phone, so I took off in that direction, only to find out that they had found a way out of the destruction to come to my house! Their moldy little house on the golf course was untouched, but just barely. A huge, ancient maple tree in the back had come down--along with 125 other trees and a barn--missing the house by mere inches. The power and phones were out. The family was shaken, but safe. They spent the night at my house with nothing but the shirts on their backs. After a quick run to the store to get diapers, etc., we settled in...but everyone was up early the next morning to head back to the course to start the clean-up. Now, THAT was a race day to remember!!
16. The last time I went to the race was three years ago when my daughter gave me her two tickets because she was unable to use them. Same old glorious seats as back in the 70s! I invited my sister from Illinois, even though it was difficult for her to leave her husband behind because he has some dementia, but she came. It was to be the Old Gals' Weekend! I bought bus tickets from the airport so we wouldn't have to fuss with finding parking. I bought a little soft-sided cooler on wheels because I knew we weren't capable of carrying much. The weather was good (very hot, actually) but we had a good time visiting--she, enjoying being free of the fetters at home, and me, just enjoying her company. I don't remember who won the race. I only know that it was most likely the last race I will ever be able to attend, and I loved every second of it!
17. I was there when Tony Hulman was still alive and walked on the track, traditionally, before the race. I was there when they broke the 200-mph barrier in qualifying. I was there when A.J. Foyt took a hammer to his car in frustration when his crew couldn't seem to figure out what was wrong with it. I was there when there was the first woman in the race, and everyone was all a-twitter how the "Gentlemen, start your engines" command would work. I was there before they limited the size of the coolers that could be brought in. I was there and happened to be watching the pit area when Rick Mears caught on fire, as he jumped out of his car and started slapping himself to put it out. I was there when Gordon Johncock, leader of the race by quite a bit, ran out of gas right in front of us at the beginning of the very last lap. I think I was there the first time Jim Nabors sang Back Home Again in Indiana. I was there for some of the closest finishes, and there for races that finished on a yellow. And even though I'm not there anymore, I'm still there in my mind. I love it! I weep over it!
This year, my daughter and family came for the race. Other years, my former son-in-law and his family come and stay at my house for the duration of the race weekend. (They trade off on those same four tickets that my ex and I had for so many years.) We have it down to a science now. We have made our own traditions, and it's all about the memories!
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