There was a lot of talk in early 1975 when Roger Penske brought our the American Motor Company Matador to be driven by Bobby Allison. For most of the older race fans, AMC and the Matador meant Nash and although Nash had been around since the early days of NASCAR racing, it was not necessarily a nameplate associated with winning races. Nevertheless, Bobby Allison was driving the red-white and blue Matador, number 16, for the Southern 500 on Labor Day, 1975. Bobby would start third, behind David Pearson in the Wood Brothers Mercury and Buddy Baker in the Bud Moore Ford. Richard Petty would start fourth in his Dodge,, and fifth place in the starting line up was occupied by Benny Parsons in a Chevrolet.
Pearson took the lead on the green and stayed there for 21 laps before Buddy Baker went around him to lead for the next 9 laps. Bruce Hill, who had started 10th led lap 32 and then David Sisco took over for laps 33-37. Pearson moved back in front on lap 38 but was passed by a very ill Richard Petty on lap 46. Petty was suffering with the flu and was having a difficult time staying in the car in the humid weather but he led until lap 102 when Dave Marcis went to the front for two laps. Petty was back in front on lao 105 and stayed there until lap 128. Pearson, Marcis and Petty swapped the lead back and forth from lap 129 to 232. Dave Marcis retired his ride on lap 197 with overheating issues On Petty's next pit stop, on lap 232, he turned over the driving to Dave Marcis while he tried to get so strength back.
The race was red-flagged for almost two hours due to a heavy thunderstorm passing directly over the track. Cars were falling out left and right and only 18 of the 40 starters would be running at the finish. Some of the independants, not accustomed to having their names announced with the leaders were right up there at the front.
Bobby Allison and the Matador were almost two full laps behind at one point during the race, but with so many cars falling out and Allison's perseverance, he moved into the lead on lap 289 of the 367 lap race. He appeared on his way to a definite win. Then, with about 50 laps to go, a shock broke and Bobby was watching the scoreboard as the number 43 of his rival Petty began to close as Richard had gotten back into the car. Petty got back on the same lap as Allison and was closing, albeit slowly, when the laps ran out and Bobby and the red, white and blue Matador took the checkered flag.
After the race, Petty said "we had the strongest car out there today, but that Matador had the strongest driver". Allison graciously accepted the compliment from Petty as he celebrated in Victory Lane.
Benny Parsons was an early strong contender, but spun out twice, once on his own, and once when he allowed Darrell Waltrip to relieve for him and D.W. spun it out. Along with Parsons Buddy Baker, Cale Yarborough, Lennie Pond and Dick Brooks were also considered to have strong victory potential onlky to fall out of the race.
Top Ten finishers were:
1. Bobby Allison, Penske Matador, winning $20,870.00
2. Richard Petty, Petty Enterprises Dodge, winning $16,395.00
3. David Sisco, Sisco Chevrolet, winning $9,120.00 (9 laps behind)
4. Jim Vandiver, Vandiver Dodge, winning $6,495.00 (14 laps behind)
5. Bruce Hill, Hill Chevrolet, winning $5,600.00 (15 laps behind)
6. Cecil Gordon, Gordon Chevrolet, winning $4,770.00(16 laps behind)
7. Richard Childress, Tom Garn Chevrolet, winning $4,520.00 (18 laps behind)
8. Dick May, Hiram Handy Chevrolet, winning $3,720.00 (20 laps behind)
9. Bruce Jacoby, Opal Voight Chevrolet, winning $3,420.00 (22 laps behind)
10.Elmo Langley, Langley Ford, winning $3,720.00 (23 laps behind).
Jabe Thomas was 12th, Frank Warren 14th, D.K.Ulrich 16th, Buddy Arrington 17th, Cale Yarborough 19th, Benny Parsons 20th, Lennie Pond 21st, James Hylton 23rd and Dave Marcis 24th. David Pearson was credited with 27th, Buddy Baker 28th, Bill Champion 29th, G.C. Spencer 31st, J. D. McDuffie 33rd, Darrell Waltrip 34th, and H.B. Bailey in 40th and last position.
MY PERSONAL MEMORIES OF THIS RACE:
We had packed up the family motorhome on Saturday and were second in line to enter the infield on Sunday afternoon. I got press credentials through the radio station to which I made race reports and we had press parking access. We entered the track and parked right behind Victory Lane which had become out parking selection after acquiring the motor home. From atop the motorhome, we could see all the way around the track, our only blind spots being the low side in turns three and four (now turns one and two). We had a huge crowd with us that trip, Mama and Daddy, along with me and six buddies in the motorhome, and three car loads of folks following us there.
It was not long after we had out encampment set up that the others from around NC, SC and GA started to arrive and join up with our group. By 4:00 p.m., we had four motor homes, a converted school bus, two vans, and 8 cars with our group. Probably a total of 50 plus folks ready for a great weekend. We set up the tables, spread out the chairs, and began to do the things we did on race weekend, which included lots of eating, lots of bench racing, lots of story telling, and then someone would break out a guitar or some other musical instrument and it was off and singing. Not sure our group would have made "America's Got Talent" but we sure could rock that infield. It was not unusual at all for a crowd to assemble to watch and listen to the antics. Oh, and by the way, in those days I would consume my share of beer and the more I had, the louder I sang.
It was not too long after dark that lightning began to break the darkness but it wasn't until the thunder boomed so loudly and the lightning seemed to strike right beside us that we all got in the motorhomes and cars. Within what seemed like seconds, it began to rain in torrents as well as hail about the size of dimes. Inside the motorhome the sound was unbelieveable. You could not hold a conversation as the rain pounded the roof. We had all the lights inside turned off but the flashes provided by the lightning would cause the faces of those of us inside to appear blue/red/yellow for the split second we could see each other.
When the storm had passed, we opened the door of the motorhome to find about two inches of water underfoot. As we looked down towards turn three, it appeared as though a lake had been formed. By this time, the clouds had moved over and although there was no lighting at the track as the storm had knocked that out for a brief time, the moon showed us what appeared to be only the tops of cars in turn three with folks standing on top of them. A group of us headed in that direction to see if we could help, but also to experience an adventure we had not expected.
As we got closer to the turn three area, we were soon up to almost our waists in water but it got no higher and was beginning to lower as the infield drains were working. When we got to the tunnel going under turn three, we could not believe what we saw. The tunnel was filled to within about four feet of the top with water. We waded into the tunnel and began to use it as a swimming pool as it was seriously full and not receding at all. It did not occur to me (too many beers) or to anyone else in our group, to consider that there were NO law enforcment authorities or track workers anywhere around to stop our swimming.
Within just minutes, a couple of the guys in the group decided to swim through the tunnel and see what was going on outside. I didn't try that because, although I had been in the Navy, I was never a good swimmer and didn't want to risk the total darkness of the tunnel. About 10 minutes passed and I was getting worried about my friends when I hear the laughing and splashing as they are swimming back through the tunnel. I will never know how they managed to swim back through the tunnel with all the banners they had ripped off the fence outside the tunnel. We had "STP Welcomes Race Fans", "Winston Welcomes Race Fans" and a couple other major sponsors vinyl banners. We headed immediately back to the motorhome to put away out bounty. Then we headed back to the tunnel.
When we got back to turn three, this time there were law enforcement officers everywhere. I was convinced they were after the bandits who removed the signs but as I struck up a conversation with one of them (a bad habit I have just talking with anyone) he told me that the drain in the tunnel was stopped up and they were bringing in the Navy Reserve Frog man from the reserve unit in Florence to unstop the drain. I never saw the frog man, but the tunnel was soon draining and in a matter of 30 minutes or so, it was clear from traffic.
Several of us walked through the turn three area and looked at some of the cars that had suffered water damage. Somehow, consumption of alcohol, and I'm not talking about me, made water damage more easily accepted. No one seemed to talk about the damage to the cars, just about the storm at the great flood at Darlington.
When the sun came up on race day, we got out all the banners that had been relocated from their original position outside the track at the turn three tunnel and hung them from the motorhomes and converted bus. We were the sensation of the infield. As the race got closer, more folks joined our group who came for just the day. By the start of the race, I am guessing there were almost 70 of us assembled there.
I spent the race, as I did all races, on top of the motor home except for that rain interruption. We could see it coming. Off turn two, the black clouds boiled over and the lightning was splitting the sky as bad as it had the night before. It was incredibly hot inside the motorhome with about 30 of us crowded in there and no air conditioning running. It hailed again, large hail this time, and the cacophony inside the motorhome could be no less that being inside a snare drum in a rock band. When the storm was over and we opened the door to bail out, it was incredibly cool from the hail. That was the weekend we seemed to have every weather condition but snow, but the hail had cooled it off quite substanially.
All of us on our motorhome were, of course, cheering for that 43 and I think we believed, until the checkered flag waved, that Richard would catch that Matador. But we stood on top of the RV and watched Bobby take a well earned win. We watched him celebrate in Victory Lane right in front of us. We didn't cheer him, but we didn't boo him either. We could appreciate what an effort he had made to win that race.
As soon as they opened the pits, we were inside where, as expected, Richard was sitting on the wall signing autographs although he looked so weak I wondered how he could sit on the wall. As always, I sat on the wall beside him just watching and refreshing my lessons of so many years in how to appreciate folks that want to talk to you. Those times with The King always meant so much to me. After all, I am, by Richard's own admission, the biggest aggrevation of his racing career! I can live with that.
We were, as usual, one of the last vehicles to exit the infield, heading west on I-20 into the setting sun. Another Southern 500 in the books and another wonderful weekend at Darlington for the memory banks. It is, indeed, an incredible life I lead. Memories like this one are a part of me as sure as my heart.
Honor the past, embrace the present, dream for the future.
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What a change! It's been awhile since I've checked in and I'm quite surprised. It may take me awhile to figure it our but first look it's really great.
updated by @tim-leeming: 12/05/16 04:00:58PM
