When I was old enough to drive my indulgent parents allowed me to go to hillclimbs on my own as well as attend events put on by local sports car clubs. I tried my hand at doing gymkhanas in a friend’s car but quickly learned that, while I was a safe driver, I was no Stirling Moss. My problem, I got motion sick going through all those turns and one time embarrassed myself by losing my lunch at the finish line.
After a lot of pleading and promise making my parents permitted me to drive up to Watkins Glen, NY for a Sports Car Club of America road race that was held during the summer. I tried to get permission to return for the first Watkins Glen Grand Prix in October of 1961 but they thought it was too risky a trip for a 16-year-old and besides I would miss too many school days to make the trip.
At the beginning of the 1961-62 school year I developed a strategy to convince my parents to let me, and my friend Russell, drive down to Sebring, during Spring Break of 1962 for the 12-hour race. That strategy included doing everything they asked of me, plus getting good grades in school and doing part-time work in my grandparents store to earn money for the trip to Florida. In anticipation that my strategy would be successful I even purchased two tickets to the race using the contact information I found in an issue of Road & Track magazine.
Despite the skepticism of my two brothers things worked out for me and early on March 20th, 1962, Russell and I had his ’57 Chevy all packed up and we were on our way for the 1200 mile trip to Florida. As a last-minute thing Russell bought us two University of Pennsylvania T-shirts because he thought if we pretended to be college students we just might meet some coeds there who were on Spring Break. As it turned out it was an excellent idea.
At the half-way point we stopped at a hotel/entertainment complex called South of the Border on U.S. 301 in Dillon, South Carolina. Our hotel room there would be our major expense on this adventure since we planned to sleep in the car when at the track. We turned in before 10 p.m. planning for an early start the next day because we didn’t plan to stop until we got to the track.
Going through Georgia and North Florida there were several news reports on the radio about the growing crisis with communist Cuba and the embargo placed on that island nation by the O.A.S. or Organization of American States. Several reports surfaced that south Florida Cuban community leaders were calling for an invasion of Cuba by the United States.
[full_width_banners]
We arrived in the town of Sebring on the afternoon of March 21 after over 10 hours of hard-driving and we immediately found a grocery store so we could stock up on what we would need for our stay at the track. Needless to say most of what we bought was junk food since we had no room in our cooler for perishables. The cooler was reserved for beer and beer alone. The only things that might qualify as healthy were several cans of Dinty Moore beef stew that had a sterno can attached to them. All you had to do was open up the slot in the sterno can, light it and before long you got nice hot beef stew.
It was a short trip to the track from downtown Sebring and we drove right into the spectator camping area since the raceway was not set up to collect tickets that early in the week. Luck was with us and we found a group of college students from the University of Florida (UF) who had already set up an elaborate camp near the paddock that included tents, chairs, bicycles, a large shelter on poles, a couch, a fire pit and a cooking area with two grills. Since we were wearing our college shirts they welcomed us with open arms and helped us find a parking spot near their cars. The UF coeds were very nice and we found their southern drawl charming. I must admit I initially felt a little guilty telling them we were college students but that wore off quickly.
