Forty miles north of Seattle outside of a little town called
Arlington, was a strip of concrete we used as a drag strip. I was told
it was part of an old military airstrip built during the Second World
War, a fighter base to protect the vital industry in Seattle.
There was a painted starting line, we had no lights or clocks,
the start of each drag were done with a flag person. Down at the
Finish line stood two other flag people one beside each lane. The lane
the winning car was in, that flag person would rise their flag. There
were a few times when both flag persons raised their flags, if that
happened the cars had to race against each other again.
I started going to this drag strip in 1955, with my
brother-in-law, he had what we used to call, a "Full Race" Flat Head
V-8, in his 48 Ford. We would walk among the cars at the strip and
talk to the owners about their cars and what they had in their motors
then if we thought we had a chance we would arrange a match. On a good
day we would arrange three matches with this system, you got to know
whom you did not want to drag.
By 1958, we had NHRA rules, lights, clocks, and my
brother-in-law had a AA gas dragster.
Most of the time, I rode in back of the push truck. I was the
safety person which meant I had the responsibility for the fire
extinguisher. Once we got the dragster started we would back up from
the dragster about twenty yards, and sit at idle, once the dragsters
were half way down the strip and then we would follow.
A lot of the push trucks were hot too, so when we started down
the strip a little mini drag would develop between the push trucks for
only the first hundred feet or so, There was a roll bar for me to hold
on to as we traveled down the strip, it was a rush during those little
mine drags.
"Dam!" the engine of the AA gas dragster that my brother-in-law
was sitting in at the starting line just blew apart. We got the
dragster off the line and back over to the trailer. We did not have a
spare engine we were just working class people and all the money went
into one engine and we hoped it would last for the racing season.
We knew Paul was working on an engine, he would come over to
the shop once in a while when he had a question. But we were surprised
when Paul came over to us standing at the trailer and offered the use
of his engine. We walked over to Paul's pickup truck and the engine
was sitting on a wooden pallet. We talked among our selves for a few
minutes then decided to take Paul's offer.
The first time out with the new engine the "ET" was not very
high when my brother-in-law got out of the dragster he was very
disappointed, That's when Paul asked if he could make a run. My
brother-in-law asked Paul. "Have you made runs in a dragster before?"
"Sure, I use to own one, when I lived in California."
I was standing in back of the push truck, Paul was on the
starting line, this was going to be a "ET" run.
The light turned green, and Paul was off, then we took off in
the push truck. Paul kept going, and going, I no sooner said to my
self: "He's going off the end" when huge dusts cloud erupted up into
the air. The two front bicycle wheels came out of the dust cloud
followed by other chrome parts.
Fred was driving the push truck, he must have been mesmerize by
the scene before him. We were doing 80 mph, and we were almost to the
end of the strip, I pounded on the cab, Fred locked up the brakes. I
dropped down into a huddled mass on the floor of the truck bed and we
went off the strip. The pickup was bouncing and spinning then suddenly
came to a stop about hundred feet behind the cage of the dragster.
Fred and I were both shook up, but we knew we had to get over
to cage. Paul was unconscious and bleeding from the nose. Fred and I
unhooked the belts from Paul and pulled him out of the cage and laid
him on the ground. The ambulance showed up right behind us, they
scooped Paul up and took him to a local hospital.
After Fact……Paul did not hit the "Kill switch" and he went off the end
of the strip, at 145 MPH. Paul ended up with a broken kneecap, and a
lot of bruises. My brother-in-law never built another dragster, and I
never rode in the back of a push truck again.
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