Thread: Wayne Baldwin's Amazing Story: Baldy's Eual Eldred Baldwin

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    We had too much engine switching to do, and especially had too many races to run with our reliable FB Konig, so we didn't enter B runabout. The next heat we ran was B hydro. I got a good start and picked up my third win for the day and first ever in a hydro. There were some good B drivers there, so it wasn't a fluke. I figured Alex Wetherbee was the one to beat with his hot Quincy Looper, but something must have happened to him. I came in second in the next heat, but had enough points for the overall win. Keth Taylor was second overall followed by Bobby Wilson with a third. I never really got to know Keith although he was one of the top competitors in North Texas and Oklahoma. He was from Dallas, and he quit before we got to know him.

    The final race we entered was D hydro with the same FB Konig on our Marchetti. We finished second in one heat, but I don't know which heat it was. The overall winner was Woody Marcy from Lubbock, Texas followed by Phil Crown from Dallas. They had real D motors. Phil had some Mercs and Merc/ Quincy's but I don't remember what Woody Marcy ran. Most likely a Merc or Merc/Quincy, but I'm not sure if either he or Phil were running loopers. I'm thinking deflectors. My second place finish was enough for third overall. And between all the classes I entered, and finished brought me to the fourth first of the day.....High Point Driver. We won 125 dollars that day. You can imagine how Baldy felt. Things started to gel after our trip to Knoxville. Some local drivers never left Texas, or raced out of the Lone Star circuit and told us early on that we didn't need to leave Texas to get plenty of racing. That was true in those days, but like I said before, Baldy wanted to go for it all, and in doing so we would learn how other racers did it. So that was settled in his mind. We would compete not only in Lone Star, but try to do the national circuit like top drivers Waldman, Hering, Seebold, Harrison, Donald, Austin, Nicholson, Simison, and all the others we got to know over the years. It was a decision of Baldy's that has had an everlasting effect on my life.....particularly since I found BRF and have been able to relive those days with stories, pictures and reconnecting with old friends. On top of that I have been able to make new ones, and talk with legends from the past I only knew of or read about, but never in a personal way until now.
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    I don't remember the trip home, but I know that Baldy was riding high, and probably his brain was clicking on what we needed to do next. I know one thing was that we needed another hydro for sure. Maybe two. It was a long way back and us pit men slept a lot. For some reason we were always alert and looking around and checking out all the sights on the way to a race, but once it's done.....we were ready to get home. I guess mostly because home was late, dark, and a long way off.



  3. #353
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    Default Summer of love

    Back home. We took all the boats and motors off the trailer and rigged them up in the driveway to wash the boats down. I had to sponge the water out of the DeSilvas, but we could soap up the hydro, scrub the bottom and stringers and pull the corks to drain it as we rinsed it. We set the motors on the brackets and cleaned them. I say we, but I mean me. I only needed help to take the boats off. I did everything else myself.

    It was a carefree life. Out of school for the summer and not having to work. A boat racer with some wins. A girlfriend as carefree and footloose as I, and who liked motorsports. I would turn on the portable radio plugged into an extension chord, take off my shirt and start cleaning up the equipment. Radio turned on....I could now get to work. I was soaping up our A/B DeSilva when I heard the Doors "Light My Fire" that morning after only a half dozen times before and stopped to listen. What a beautiful day. It was the short version.

    Pam would come around, and we would drive somewhere in her car. Chasing parts for her Dad or something listening to the Association's song "Windy", the Grass Roots "Live For Today", the breakout song for Aretha Franklin "Respect", and one that was kind of "our song"...."I can't Take My Eyes Off Of You". It was the first time that the group was called Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons. They were one of my favorite groups, but until then it was just the Four Seasons.

    In the meantime, Baldy had bought a trailer loaded with boats and a few Konigs. We needed another hydro. A smaller one that we would be competitive with the A Konig. I had gotten some experience in class C with the more powerful motors, but it was clear that the two cylinder Konig would not be competitive on a national basis. It served its purpose as a training motor, and the seller Baldy found had a 4 carb, 4 cylinder Koing with short stacks in his trailer. I was going to North Carolina to pick up a trailer with boats, motors, some wheels and a few parts. Baldy was not going to go with me, nor my brother Mark or my sister Brenda. It was up to me to find a friend to help me drive and keep me company. Baldy was cutting me loose to make the decisions myself. I would be responsible for getting there and back and all things to be done in between. Wow. I was very excited about this trip. Further than I had ever gone. Into new territory, and all on my own.



  4. #354
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    The summer of 1967 was called "The Summer of Love" back then at the time it happened. That name has stuck and will forever be known as the Summer of Love, but it was anything but that around the world, and even in our own country.

    It was in July 1967 that the Biafran civil war started which lead to the formation of Nigeria seven years later and I think maybe parts of Benin, Cameroon and Chad were affected. Back home there were race riots in July in New Jersey, Illinois, Maryland, Michigan and Wisconsin. There were 26 or more killed in Newark, 4 in Milwaukee and lots and lots of injuries.

    Arlo Guthrie first performed "Alice's Restaurant" at the folk music festival in Newport. Jimi Hendrix opened for the Monkees in Forest Hills, New York and had his own debut at the Whisky-A-Go-Go. Kenny Rogers had formed "The First Editon" and performed on the Smother's Brother's show. I remember seeing that. Music was number one (behind boat racing and girls) so I watched all those shows.

    Silver hit a record high of $1.87 an oz in July 1967. The last coins that had 90% silver were minted three years earlier in 1964. Gasoline ran around .30 to .33 cents per gallon. French fries in most parts of the country were still real potatoes sliced up and fried. Root beer was "real" root beer. You cannot get anything that tastes like the real root beer now.

    It was a fun time. It was a formidable time for things yet to come to America. We were on one hand living in the most wonderful country God had ever created with freedom, liberty and prosperity....escaping Earths bounds and almost ready to "shoot the moon", while on the other hand "Boy Genius" Robert McNamara was giddily playing political chess with our "Boys" serving in Vietnam. We did not know the truth at that time what politcal games our leaders were playing....only that good men were drafted to go face an enemy that was not totally defined. Kids were killing our soldiers. Enemy shuttling to and from Cambodia and Laos were killing our soldiers, and we were not allowed to cross borders to fight. Communist Chinese were supplying weapons to the Viet Cong. The Soviet Union was supplying weapons to the Viet Cong. It was the Soviet Union that sent the first SAM's (surface to air missles) to the North Vietnamese. It was a time of massive escalation of the war, and it came about because the communists realized the boy wonder McNamara did not understand the culture of the Vietnamese people, the ruthlessness of the Communists, and they understood American weakness. We were not there to conquer, but to help free a people. The politicians tied our troops hands. We could win everwhere we tried. The politicians would not let us. Therefore, lots of fine young men died, were wounded and maimed, became drug addicts, alcoholics, or had bad psychological problems because politicians would not let the armed forces do what they were paid to do, and to know what to do. I guess I heard the song "What A Wonderful Day" by Louis Armstrong when it was on the radio back then in 1967, but I did not remember it. Now, everytime I hear it I think about those days and Robin Williams in "Good Morning VietNam". When I first saw that movie years ago I can remember tears welling up watching all those bombs fall, blowing things up and that song. It was a most poignant moment.



  5. #355
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    I was anxious to hit the road. I started calling up some friends to see who could drive up to North Carolina with me.

    I started with my pit man Bob Burnham, but he was not able to go. Kenneth Kattner and Jesse Richardson were signing up to play football at Texas Tech with full scholarships. Every call I made, I found my friends were working, gone, or for other reasons unable to go. I was able to round up a friend to help drive after a desperate search. No disrespect to Tommy Albert in looking at others first, but this would be the first big time road trip for any of us seniors and I was looking for friends with driving experience. It was one thing to drive a car or a "bug", but it was another to drive with with a loaded trailer through mountains, or hills in the day and/or night. I had traveled more, driven in different types of conditions, and had more experience than any of my friends at that time. I would be lead driver, and copilot for some relief. It would be up to me when it was time to switch, refuel, shut down and rest.

    Tommy had the least driving experience of any of my friends as I recall. His Dad Dr. Albert was the one that gave me my flight physical and the one that was captured by the communists in "Deepest, Darkest, Africa" in the Congo. As you may recall in the early stages of this thread I had talked about this. It was also in July that the Congo erupted in violence, so it was a good thing that Tommy's Dad had been released the year before.

    We would be driving Baldy's new white Chrysler New Yorker with a 440 ci engine and front wheel disc brakes.

    .



  6. #356
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    The day before we left Baldy sent his New Yorker down to Yawn Motors to have the bearings packed and greased. Even though it was a new car, that's what you did in those days. Every month, (maybe because of Baldy's high milage in the oilfield) we would have the cars washed and greased at the "Filliin' Station". I mentioned earlier about washing the windows. We called gas stations down in south Texas Fillin' Stations. Every month we would take our cars down there to get "washed and greased". They had a hydraulic lift and would send the cars "up" where they would not only change the oil and filter, but would grease the ball joints, but also U Joints, and other suspensions points. Sometimes we would have them grease and pack the bearings. That is what Baldy had done at Yawn Motors the day before we left. Because we had the front disc brakes, he had it done there since it was a new braking system for cars and the service or "Fillin' Stations" weren't used to it.


    The New Yorker was torqued, cleaned, serviced, and packed for our trip. I drove from our house on Jefferson Street a couple of miles to Tommy Alberts house where we loaded up his gear, including a towsack of snakes. It wasn't full. There were only thirteen diamondback rattlesnakes on one hognose (non poisonous) snake. They were only two to two and an half feet long, and were kind of skinny. I asked Tommy about how safe it would be. He said that he had fed them and that they would not be hungry for awhile.

    I could not drive all that way by myself, and when Tommy agreed to help me, he realized that we would be going past a snake farm in Louisiana. Tommy wanted a small alligator, and thought he could trade some of his rattlesnakes for an alligator.

    So...Tommy stowed his luggage in the New Yorker, placed the burlap sack of snakes behind my seat and we headed north.

    Music was always cranked up in our car. We were just leaving the outskirts of Alice, Texas when the song "Don't Sleep In the Subway" came on Tommy said "My girlfriend won't let me listen to that song" he told me that the line "take off your clothes....and close the door" was bad and he wasn't to listen. Barbara was a very good girl, and I know now how she felt, but Tommy and I listened anyway.



  7. #357
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    We left around 5 a.m. the next day and picked up U.S, 59 coming from Laredo to Houston. There were no bypasses around towns then. We had to drive straight through all of them, and there were plenty of red lights. We got on 59 at Beeville, went up through Goliad to Victoria, then on to Edna, Louise, El Campo, Wharton and Joe Rome's hometown of Rosenberg en route to Houston, plus all the little towns in Between. It was about a five hour trip then to the south side of Houston.

    Highway 59 was basically the same route as "The Old Spanish Trail", and there was a road in Houston with that same name. 59 veered a little west of OST and crossed Interstate 10 where we turned east. Loop 610 circling Houston was under "perpetual" roadwork then and would remain so for what seemed an eternity. Once clear of Houston,it was a beeline east to Louis Williams' hometown of Beaumont. There were no little towns to slow us down on this stretch of interstate and we could hook it up to 70 mph, There were no cruise controls so we had to keep our foot on the pedal and watch for highway patrol. I didn't really speed much then, but with traffic pushing us, I still had to watch out.

    Things were looking good. Tommy and I crossed the border into Louisiana and we still had a lot of daylight left to make time. We passed right on through Lake Charles and were about six miles east when something terrible was going wrong with the car. I could feel something going on in the steering wheel and my feet could feel something strange. I slowed down to pull over on the shoulder, then suddenly the steering really got strange. As I came to a stop, the drivers side front went down like we had a flat tire. Tommy got out and walked around while I was looking at a smoking tire, that was not flat, but bent in to the inside of the fender well. I did not understand. Just then the tire burst into flame. I got into the car to get what water we had and poured it on the tire. The fire went out, but then suddenly burst back out. We had no more water, so Tommy and I started scooping up what little dirt we could to throw on it. Just then a man in a pickup truck loaded with work tools came up with a fire extinguisher and put the fire out with a squirt. The rubber retained the heat well, and the fire kept coming back for two or three times, but smaller each time. When it finally quit burning and was just cooking off heat, we all took a good look at the situation. I didn't know what had happened but the man did. When we told him that Baldy had had the car serviced and wheel bearings repacked the day before he said, "They tightened the bearing too much and the friction finally turned the spindle red hot". That's why it bent under the weight of the car. So there we were. Stuck on IH 10 with a car that would take major repairs to get back on the road.

    The man went down to road to a service station and told a guy with a small wrecker where we were. He knew the people at the local Chrysler/Plymouth dealership in Lake Charles so he towed us there.



  8. #358
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    The dealership was only a couple of blocks south of IH10, close to downtown and only about half a mile east from where Pro, OPC, and probably stock and mods raced on the lake. Pit pits were just southeast of the bridge.

    The foreman of the shop took a look at the damage and told us that he had everything he needed to fix the car except the disc brakes. This was the first American made car to utilize front disc brakes, and they did not have parts in stock. This disc brake model was still new, and they were using all the disc brakes on cars rolling off the line. There weren't any dealers around stocking the disc brakes yet. He would have to order them from Detroit and it would be at least a week before the car would be ready.

    In the meantime Tommy and I struck up a friendship with a very friendly and talkative Cajun mechanic while we were waiting. Tommy took the sack of snakes out of the car and the mechanic was curious. Tommy opened the sack to show his and he said "HOO...dems some big snakes." I told him "No, we got some on our lease (meaning deer lease) that are six foot" Tommy said they couldn't get out, and did not need feed or water, and asked the mechanic if there was a nice cool, quiet place he could leave them until the car was fixed. He showed us a place at the back so Tommy set the sack down, and we went to find a place to stay and call Baldy.



  9. #359
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    The mechanic told us where there was a good hotel a couple of blocks west toward the lake and back up to the interstate on the access road, so Tommy and I walked over there. I still wasn't convinced it would take that long. I figured since we were from out of town, the dealership fed us that line and that if we would come up with some big bucks, we could have all the parts flown in and be on our way. I suspected that with Baldy's help we could be back on the road the next day or two even if we had to have the parts bussed in from South Texas. I checked us into the hotel then told Baldy what had happened, and he was going to call Jim Yawn to check out the parts situation.

    By then Tommy and I were starving. We blew on through Lake Charles and were just starting to look for an exit to Kenner and stop for a bite when all this mess happened. It was now around two or three in the afternoon. There was a Kentucky Fried Chicken place across the street. It was the first time either one of us had seen one, and didn't know it was a large chain on its way to becoming a massive world wide fast food company. It was a small building with only a place to order at the counter, and no chairs or tables. It was only after I had been in another one a few years later that I learned they had a small place in back that had three or four small tables.

    We were too hungry to go anywhere else so we each ordered the chicken, and there was no choice....it was the Colonel's spicy and original recipe only plus the side orders. It was a very nice day outside with big magnolia trees providing shade on a nice grassy lawn. It was some kind of very fine soft grass I was not used to, so we just sat there and gobbled down our meal. I had noticed milkweed blooming all around us and one by one I pulled all within reach. Tommy said maybe I shouldn't be pulling them up. His Dad Dr. Albert was a great naturalist and to him, picking wildflowers, killing rattlesnakes or doing anything to upset nature was a great sin. When I first heard Johnny Cash sing the song "Starkville County Jail" on his San Quentin Live album released the next year, I thought about eating chicken out in front of the KFC and picking flowers. To this day I still think about it when I hear the song.

    After eating we went back to the hotel and called Baldy. He said the service manager was right. Jim Yawn did his best to help us out, but there would be no parts until the following week. We told the clerk what had happened and she gave me all the money back after we checked out. Baldy had told us to catch a flight home. The clerk at the hotel gave us a map and showed us where the airport was. It was southwest about five or six miles out of town. I don't remember why we didn't take a taxi. This was the days before shuttle busses. Anyway, for some reason we decided to walk. Five miles wasn't much, and besides....we were sure to be picked up by a caring soul. It wasn't dangerous to hitchhike in those days.



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    Only three or four blocks south on the road that would take us to the airport, we came across a trailer with several hydros and runabouts. Wow! I knew who this guy was. It was the trailer of Robert Weeks and his brother whose name I forget (help me out Joe) They were alky racers, and I think the may have run some mod classes too in South Louisiana. I remembered them from the Beaumont and Alexandria races, but I never met or talked to either one. I was too shy to walk into their marine dealership and introduce myself. They would have given us a ride to the airport if they were there, but then the next part of the story would not have happened. The Weeks' raced A and B hydro and runabout and were pretty good from what I remember. They quit before I began to have more duels for the lead, so I never got to know them. Only by reputation.

    A couple of blocks past the Weeks' place was a cemetary with ancient pines and large magnolia tree surrounded by a three foot wrought iron fence with "fluer de lis" spikes. A lot of the tombstones were tilted or fallen over, but most were still upright. The cemetary looked and had a very old feel. As we passed by, I looked and the names and dates of some that were only a few feet inside the fence. A lot of the writing was hard to read, but I saw in this section that there were a lot from the mid to late eighteen hundreds.

    We walked on facing oncoming traffic with our thumbs out, but no takers. I figured that when we started getting out of the city we would have better chances and already buildings and houses were thinning out and across the street toward the lake there was not much of anything but land, and still no one even slowed down. By now I was beginning to get worried that I made a bad mistake and we would have to walk all the way, and by then, would not be able to catch a flight. We were now out where an empty taxi would not be cruising by.

    It was about then we came upon an old simple black steering wheel that might have come off a tractor or maybe an old car.....not a late model, but an old jalopy type. Albert Einsteins light bulb turned on over my head. I told Tommy to pick up the steering wheel and walk exactly to my left while turning the steering wheel back and forth like the actors did in those old black and white movies. I said "Pretend you're driving and I'll walk beside you like I'm in the passenger seat. It's so dumb, somebody's bound to notice and wonder what we're doing." I was right. As we started walking, I pulled the map out of my right rear pocket, opened it up and began examining it like I was looking for directions. I wasn't long before we got a bite.

    A car traveling in our same direction wheeled around and pulled over beside us where we stopped. It was a young guy with long hair about our age. He asked what we were doing and we told him we had to get to the airport to catch a plane. He told us to hop in then did a screeching U turn back toward the direction we were headed.

    It was a very early 1950's Ford or Chevy, can't remember now. I don't even think it came with an A/C and the windows were down. Tommy sat in the front, and I had to find a place in the back seat that still had some cover and foam. About half the seat had open springs sticking up. The guy talked non stop, and what an accent. I don't think anyone on Blue Dog Radio could outdo his accent. He talked so much and changed subjects so often I don't think I could even remember what he said back then, especially over the roar of the wind, but I do remember thinking that maybe we would have been better off walking. Tommy was scared I think and didn't say anything. He was in the front seat with this guy. The whole time the car was doing a funny lope like only one shock even worked at all and the front end was doing endless circles. The muffler was shot so he had to do all his non stop talking over the wind and muffler.

    It didn't take long for us to get to the turnoff to the airport, but it didn't take long either for me to want to be out on the pavement again. Since we could see the airport only a little over half a mile away, I considered thanking him for the lift, and trying to get him to let us out right there. I was getting up courage to ask when he looked to his left and spotted a Jackrabbit. Airports are great places for Jackrabbits. They are acres and acres of tall grass and no brush just like a prairie. When he spotted the Jackrabbit he said something, slowed down and reached into his right pocket. He came out with a small 22 revolver and began shooting at the rabbit.The Jackrabbit took off running in a direction that would take him in front of the beat up old car. The dude was firing at the rabbit as he ran, and when he began crossing the road in front of us, the guy did not stop firing. The last round was aiming straight ahead above the steering wheel. It all happened so fast from start to finish that Tommy and I just watched in astonishment. Especially since the windshield didn't shatter. He had been firing blanks. He never said anything, or start to laugh like he pulled a good one over on us, but I know that's what he did. He just kept on talking like nothing happened. A minute later we pulled up to the entrance, and were we ever glad to get out of that car. I didn't go to church back then, but I always did pray silently to myself, and you better believe I prayed very hard that he would not park the car and follow us inside. My prayers were answered and we got out, thanked him and he drove away going about his business as "normal".

    Tommy and I told each other what we were thinking during that whole brief encounter with the guy. I still have no clue as to what was up with him, but I will never forget it. We had left all our luggage in the car so all we had to do was get our tickets and wait to board the plane. We had made it in time. What an interesting adventure this boat racing business was becoming. We survived a car catching on fire, a lunatic, now we were each going to experience our first commercial flight. We had both been in private airplanes before, but never in a turbojet.



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