A True Family Tradition
At least one member of our family has been attending the 500 since 1955 and Grandstand A on the front stretch, except for a year or two in Turns 2 and 4, has been our Memorial Day weekend home ever since. I was born in 1954 and as I was gorwing up in Columbus, Indiana dad would tell me stories about his race experiences with my mom. He said that one of his scariest moments was in 1956 when Paul Russo’s Novi blew a tire right in front of them and my mom thought a bomb had exploded. Dad also told me stories of attending the race in 1958, the year of the big pile up on Lap 1..”all of the cars came by for the green flag and the next thing we saw was about half the field coming back around and no one knew what happened!” My big day came in 1965 when I attended my first race…Jimmy Clark won and I was never the same! Dad and I along with friends began attending each year thereafter. In 1987 I took my wife to her first race. She grew up in a town of 800 in the mountains of Idaho..and now enjoys the race with 400,000 friends. In 2004 my son, A.J, became the third generation of our family to attend the 500…and in 2007 my daughter, Alexandria Jean, joined me to complet the cycle. My personal favorite memory? I have 37 of them–every electrifying flying start and holding my breath until the 33rd car gets through turn number one!