Forty Memorial Days ago, I sat in the Indianapolis grandstand across from the pits and witnessed Graham Hill capturing the second of the three crowns that still make him unique—the only driver ever to win the 500 (in 1966), the F1 world championship (in both 1962 and 1968) and Le Mans (1972).
As a “foreign” race driver, Hill was absolutely captivating to us Americans in those naïve days. Tall, well-built, thanks to his competitive rowing, and dashing as any classic English film star, he also possessed a dry (and often dirty) wit capable of convulsing whole dinner parties. On both sides of the “pond” he was a beloved figure to people who liked him personally and deeply respected his hard-knocks accomplishments.
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