bob jennings' WORLD O' RACING
Chasing crashes and recalling Kathy and the 1990 "500"
(completed 09/17/98)
Kenny Brack, Stephan Gregoire and Affonse Giaffone crash on the pace lap of the 1997 "Indianapolis 500"
Bob Jennings
I have been a serious "hobbyist" photographer, of racing events, since the 1981 season. The photo, on this page, however, is one of the few okay crash photos I've been able to get.
I was catching as many of the cars, during the final pace lap, for the 1997 "Indianapolis 500," as I could, when the mishap, involving the entire fifth row, of qualified cars, occurred inside turn four. The cars were gathering momentum for the impending start, when current IRL 'hot shoe" Kenny Brack, Stephan Gregoire and Affonse Giaffone tangled.
It wasn't determined who was at fault, although it appears, from this photo, that Giaffone is an innocent victim. So the blame probably falls to Brack or Gregoire.
The crash photo is what most of the photographers, gathered through the four corners, of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, are seeking. The media organizations, who assign these photographers, put them in the inside of the corners to chase crash photos. These "shooters" stand in their locations for hours at a time, with those huge and beautiful "white" 300 mm lenses mounted on battered 35 mm SLR bodies, poised to catch an out of control racing car.
That makes me glad I'm only shooting for the fun of it, for I find nothing as beautiful as a sleek open wheel racing car, at speed. Getting good shots takes precedence over every other purpose, at a race, for me. I can watch the race, later, on television. Good photos come first.
I couldn't count all the racing photos I've taken, in the past 17 years, but it's somewhere in the thousands. I can probably count the number of decent crash or spin photos, I've caught, during that time, in single digits. The only one that now comes to mind is Tom Sneva, leaving the pits, at Michigan Speedway, during a CART race, in September 1983. That season, I was a CART member, and had access to the pits, during races. Sneva was rushing out of his pit, when the back end of his Bignotti/Cotter Texaco Star March - Cosworth, came around. I was focusing, on Sneva, when the back end broke loose. It's an okay shot. Maybe I'll dig it out and put it on the Internet sometime.
The "pros" don't seem to care much about a racing car at speed. They are interested in catching that same car spinning out of control. That's what they are being paid to photograph.
I haven't established contact with too many "pros" over the years. They seem to be "solitary type" people. I did, however, make acquaintance with one "pro," during Carburetion day, for the 1990 "Indianapolis 500."
It was a sunny May day, at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, with all the festivity and atmosphere of an approaching "500" race weekend. I haven't been to "Carb day" since 1994, so I don't know what "Carb day" is like in the Indy Racing League era. "Carb day" 1990 was special, though, with high anticipation in the air.
I was in turn three, as the final moments of green flag action passed, when I spotted a woman smiling at me.
She was tall, thin, probably in her early to mid thirties, with beautiful wavy, red hair, framing her face. She really looked good to me and my heart started beating quickly, as she spoke, although I couldn't hear what she was saying.
At that time, I was halfway through a two year relationship, with a woman, and her son. I was in love, with that woman, but at that time, things weren't going well, with the relationship. In fact, the woman was being difficult and the whole thing was pretty uncomfortable and unpleasant.
I had been faithful, in the relationship, but the gorgeous red haired woman smiling at me, inside turn three, at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, during "Carb day" for the 1990 "Indianapolis 500," was the best thing my eyes had seen in a long time.
She was wearing sunglasses and tan jeans. She had an almost "tomboyish" way about her and I loved that red hair and fair skin.
I don't recall what we talked about specifically, but I remember she showed me the photo equipment she was using. Some of it was on loan from her "employer," Reuters. Her name was Kathy; short for Kathleen. She gave me her business card, but I won't give her last name. She may be married now, as am I.
When the green flag session ended, we walked across the Speedway infield, until we came to the area by the new Terrace "extension" and suites, that were erected, for the 1990 race, inside the north end of the pits. When I told her I was a computer programmer, she devised a scheme to come up with number combinations for the "Hoosier Lottery," which had gone into effect six months earlier.
We stopped for a cold drink. She took off her sun glasses. She was gorgeous and I wanted her bad. When I exclaimed how pretty she was, there were a couple indications that she liked me a little too. In other words, Kathy was making her point(s) well known.
After a few minutes, we parted. I had her business card and the information that she was from the Northwest Indiana area and had been married ten years earlier. She also told me she was supposed to work the pits race day. I told her that I would be along the creek, inside turn one. That was before the Speedway erected the high debris fence for the 1994 "Brickyard 400."
I felt that I had some good shots during the two hour green flag session. 1990 was supposed to be the year of the Emerson Fittipaldi - Al Unser Jr. rematch, in the "Indianapolis 500" and excitement was big for this confrontation, especially after the lap 199 "skirmish," in turn three, between the two, in the 1989 "500." Speeds reached as high as 228 mph, during practice, and 225 mph, during qualifications.
Most of the attention was focused on Emmo and Little Al, but there were other guys looking good too. Rick Mears and Arie Luyendyk were joining Fittipaldi, the pole sitter, in row one, of the starting grid. Both had been strong throughout the weeks leading up to the race. Bobby Rahal was in the hunt too, as were Mario and Michael Andretti. All the "big boys" had Ilmor Chevrolet V8 power, but there was a lot of speculation about which chassis, the Penske or the Lola, would be superior. This was the first CART season for the contemporary style CART chassis, with longer frontal area.
After the 1989 "500," I had pretty much given up on Al Unser Sr. winning the "Indianapolis 500" for a fifth time. So, I made the subtle transition from Big Al to Little Al, after the 89 race. Big Al barely made it into the 1990 race, having to drive a terrible Alfa Romeo V8 powered March, for Pat Patrick and Miller Brewing.
I was firmly in the Little Al camp, in this expected year of "Emmo versus Little Al II" and I was excited in the days leading up to the "500."
As I walked along Georgetown Road, with the traditional crazies already gathering, a full three days before the "500," I was thinking about Kathy, however, rather than whether Little Al's navy blue and white Valvoline Galles/Kraco Lola - Chevrolet was going to be good enough to beat Fittipaldi, Marlboro and Team Penske the coming Sunday.
I went back to the woman's trailer, at Holt and Michigan, just south of the Speedway, and spent most of the rest of the day listening to her complain.
As I listened to her mouth, I shut out her loud voice and thought about Kathy. I was tempted three or four times to walk out of the trailer and call Kathy. I began wondering what it would be like to have a love affair with a photographer who followed racing. It seemed like the perfect fit.
"500" weekend progressed and race morning, the women, her son and I walked to the Speedway. I took them to their seats in the South Vista and I walked over to the area, along the creek, inside turn one.
When I used to shoot the "500," from inside turn one, there would always be people squeezed elbow to elbow, at the edge of the creek, for the first few laps of the "500." Then as the race progressed, the crowd spread out and things became more comfortable.
After a few laps, into the race, with Fittipaldi running away, in front, followed by Mario, Rahal, Unser, Luyendyk and Michael, with Mears fading and Big Al running at the tail of the field, I saw Kathy. There she was, with that soft fair face, bright red hair and gorgeous smile.
I asked her why she wasn't in the pits. She mumbled something that I didn't comprehend. I knew why she was in the first turn though. She came there to see me.
At that moment, if it hadn't been for the woman's son, I would've left her sitting in the South Vista, and put my energies into making something happen with Kathy. Things being as they were, however, I smiled at Kathy from time to time, but tried not to pay too much attention, during the "500."
When Emmo faded, after leading 125 laps, with blistered tires, and the same thing happened to Little Al, after he had moved into second place, behind Fittipaldi, at 100 laps, the race fell to Rahal and Luyendyk.
I continued to try to not pay too much attention to Kathy and it got worse when I kept catching her stealing looks at me. By the time, Luyendyk passed the leader Rahal, in turn three, on lap 167, my knees were shaking every time I looked at her.
I was so absorbed that I didn't realize the race had been run at a record 185 plus mph pace, until I caught "185" lit at the top of the scoring tower, about three laps from the finish.
Arie Luyendyk won the "Indianapolis 500" and his win had sort of a strange aura about it. It was Luyendyk's first Indy car win; the first time a driver took his first Indy car win, at the Speedway, since Graham Hill, in 1966. Even Hill's "500" win came after Graham had won the 1962 Formula One World Championship. For Luyendyk, this was the "breakthrough win" and "ultimate triumph" all rolled up into one. It was something different from what we had grown used to, and Luyendyk's Dominos Pizza Lola - Chevrolet, was entered by the Doug Shierson team, which was out of the mainstream of CART power, in those days; primarily comprised of the Penske, Newman/Haas and Galles/Kraco teams.
Luyendyk was followed to the flag, by Rahal, Fittipaldi, Unser and Mears.
I packed my gear and prepared to leave Kathy. She told me she had fallen, after I left the Speedway, the previous Thursday. She pulled up her pants leg and showed me the bruise from her fall.
I took three or four photos, of Kathy, and said good bye. She lowered her voice and said "do you have to go?" This girl was killing me!
I walked away, thinking about Kathy, and then retrieved the woman and her son from their South Vista seats and resumed my life away from my new fantasy.
However, Summer 1990 was a particularly stormy time in my two year relationship, with the woman, and a couple weeks after the "500," she was driving me crazy and "busting" me. The relationship was still important to me, though, so I took stepping outside the relationship as being pretty drastic and it scared me.
One night, though, when I was finishing work, I called Kathy. She seemed shy, but glad to hear from me. She said she wanted to see my race photos, which had turned out pretty well, with sunny skies on race day to help me. I suggested we have a "beer" some evening, to which she replied "that would be nice."
It never happened though!
As weeks passed, some of the woman's hard feelings passed and Kathy became a pleasant memory, that really hadn't happened.
Then, on New Year's Eve 1990, the woman and I were at the Cork at the Crossing, ringing in the New Year. I was putting away some beer and B & B and was feeling pretty good and getting excited that the woman was going to be good to me when we got back home (she wasn't).
We were walking out, when Kathy and another woman came in. Kathy looked beautiful and I could feel it right away. There was no indication from her though; hardly an acknowledgment actually. I was feeling some good things, however, just from looking at her and wondering if I hadn't made a big mistake, at the Speedway, the previous May.
By the time of the 1991 "500," I had split with the woman. It was a bad time for me. Kathy came to mind a few times. I had lost her business card, though, and didn't have her telephone number. I even spent a couple hours going through the Cross Directory, at the Nora branch of the Indianapolis Public Library, looking for Kathy's phone number, without success.