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

  1. #791
    Team Member David Everhart's Avatar
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    A pleasure finding this post. Bumped the send button by accident moving from page to page. My father raced in the 50 s and I've raced for last 20 yrs altho my dad passed before I started. I read about 1/4 of the posts today and will read more tomorrow. I recognized some of the names in your post.
    Dave Everhart S52

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  2. #792
    Team Member Master Oil Racing Team's Avatar
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    David....start a thread up about you and your Dad's racing. That's what BRF is all about. The stories and pictures of boat racers are interesting. My Dad got me into boat racing and it changed my life. The main reason I started the Baldy thread was to tell the story of my Dad and how he came to be not just a father supporting his son, but a promoter in a big way of professional boat racing. But just as important I thought telling the story in a way that most, if not all, boat racers could relate to, it would encourage others to tell their stories. The latest one is Steve Ketzer. You need to follow his thread and read what he is currently writing. BRF is not about championship trophies, being a top driver or anything like that. It is about telling your boat racing history. Pictures, articles, race results and funny stories are icing on the cake. So if you will, please start a thread about your family, and I and many others can comment on some of the names you bring up, and races you and your Dad went to.



  3. #793
    Team Member David Everhart's Avatar
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    I appreciate your suggestion but dad got hurt and quit when I was 10. At that time I believe the minimum age was 12. Anyhow he sold everything and never went to another race as we didn't have a lot of disposable cash with five children. I was in my 40's before I saw another race not even knowing kneelers still raced. I got involved and first race was 2 yrs later. I m 67 this yr and racing keeps me feeling young. I race 750 mod runabout but my passion is Pro antique all 4 classes. My son doesn't have the race bug and with a young family probably will never get the desire I've had my whole life. I was heart broken when I couldn't race as a young man. Probably the reason I still haven't grown up.
    David Everhart S52

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  4. #794
    Team Member David Everhart's Avatar
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    The other drivers in Pro antiques are like family. We help each other a lot. Everybody needs to stick together to make the classes work. After all there isn't many of us to go around and it seems as if the ranks get smaller every year.
    David Everhart S52

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    I'm about a third of the way through your story, Wayne, and it's great story, for sure. Very clean writing. About the Marioneaux props, we ended up with a couple buckets of them, along with much of their older stuff when they upgraded (that's in my story, but later on). And I do appreciate that pancakes make the roof of your mouth feel funny. I'm going to throw something on mine just to keep it going.

  6. #796
    Team Member Master Oil Racing Team's Avatar
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    I have to get my mind back to where I was when I left off. Anyone following this story needs to check out Steve Ketzer Racing Team thread. On BRF we do not expect everyone to write as well as Steve, Ron Hill, Ernie Dawe or others. Just pull up the photos, momento's and stories you remember about your racing days and post them. No matter what you post will bring back cherished memories from someone, or fill in a gap for others. Since I've been posting and have gotten feedback from many....I have recalled a lot of things I had forgotten about.

    Back to my story....It was after the racing season was gone. The pit crew had all gone back to school. Other than Betsy Turcotte, (who was not really on the pit crew), only Bud Turcotte and myself were in college. All the others were in High School or Private Schools. One of the tools schools used at the beginning of a semester to not just help new students be accepted, but also to increase some enthusiasm among returning students by asking everyone to write up a story or tell about their experiences during the summer.....the away from school time. Of course everyone was interested in that. Telling about themselves. Sometimes these stories were published in high school newsletters. The next two were just such stories, and they both had to do with boat racing.



  7. #797
    Team Member Master Oil Racing Team's Avatar
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    The first story was about Jean Marie Huff and her experiences as part of the pit crew of CB Racing Team. She and Susan Turcotte were enrolled at St Mary's in San Antonio. This story was in their school newsletter. I had thought the second story about my brother Mark was also a school publication, but it looks more like it came from the Alice Daily Echo. I don't know why they would have done this, but it's cool, and here it is.
    Attached Images Attached Images



  8. #798
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    Ginger was able to get ahold of me about spending a Friday night and Saturday at one of her parents friends at a lakehouse overlooking Travis Lake Northwest of Austin, Texas. I said sure, and she gave me directions how to get there.

    I mentioned before, but it's been awhile back that Ginger's Dad was a very successful architect in Houston with a house like I had never been in before in one of the prime parts of Houston back in 1968. On the other side of the street was the large forest Ima Hogg (one of Texas Governor's Hogg's daughters) had set aside for a forest within the Houston city limits. It was close to downtown, and all the prime movers in Houston.

    Ginger's Step Mother along with her Dad, were big fans of jazz. I never cared for jazz except for some jazz-blues fusion. But this was an invitation to a very cool house on top of a lake, with no neighbors, great view, good food.

    I always had my classes set up so I could leave no later than noon on Friday in order to head home in time to work on boats or motors for Saturday testing, or to go to a race somewhere. Or to go to Rosenberg to spend time with my new friend/old racing compatriot....Joe Rome.

    Got there without any problem with my 1967 red with white top Dodge Polara outfitted with orange and white surf racks. The whole bunch of Ginger's parent's friends left Houston early Friday. Ginger's Dad and Step Mom left early enough to swing by St. Mary's to pick Ginger up. Two of my pit crew....Susan and Jean Marie would have been welcome to come along (since they got me and Ginger together) and we would have had a great time except they were not kin in any way. So they could not leave St Mary's even with those upstanding citizens.

    It was a winding road to the top of that hill, way far from any other houses. I'm sure it's packed now, but I still suspect that particular house has lots of space around it. It was two story, rock house with a very long wide porch extending the full length of the top floor overlooking the lake, and I think it bent right around the corner facing the sunset. The way it faced was more or less south, but a big part of the lake went northwest and I can remember not having to go around the corner to watch the sun set. The main porch coming off the multiple upstairs rooms was wide enough to watch it from whatever chairs were already on the south side.

    I don't remember anything about the food, but I know it had to be fabulous. There was not any great meal. There was just a whole bunch of what is now called "finger food". Trays of this and that, sandwiches, hor's d'vour, or as Baldy would say tongue in cheek Hors de vor.

    Ginger probably knew most of the people. They were the cream of the crop of Jazz musicians in Houston at that time, and maybe they had there own ensemble....I don't know. All I can remember is a lot of socializing, then as soon as Ginger and I could....we split and went to the porch upstairs. Jazz people are midnight and beyond people. They partied awhile, then later on started playing. They were not loud, just nonstop. The only time I knew it was a different song was when it went silent for a few moments. I didn't know it at the time, but a couple of years later I sat in on a jam session of a friend of mine who is one of the best guitar players in the world. I think they were jamming. And they jammed until the wee hours of the morning. I have never got into jazz, but I like jazz/blues fusion like John Mayall and Boz Skaggs. There have been some good records of Jazz/blues fusion music and jamming.

    No one ever told me where to sleep, and if Ginger had a room to herself, she didn't say. We found some blankets and laid out on that porch all night talking, then later drifting in and out of sleep. No hanky panky. Just holding each other and enjoying the grand view, and each other's company.

    After being mostly awake until the sky started to stir to our left, we fell off into a deep sleep until the sun was fully bright and started to heat the porch a little. It was around late October or early November and a little chilly. The blankets weren't quite enough padding, or quite enough warmth, so we woke up around eight or so There were probably ten to fifteen other people there and they were all sound asleep somewhere. Ginger and I were able to get downstairs without waking anyone up, or even seeing anyone else. We found something to eat for breakfast, then we waited a little bit to see if anyone stirred. Nobody did.

    There was a pontoon boat moored at a marina a long way down a winding road to the lake. We had been told about it the day before and were told we were welcome to use it and how to find it and where the keys were. Since nothing else was happening, Ginger and I headed out in my Dodge Polara to find the pontoon boat. Found it we did. It was just an average ordinary pontoon boat with a canopy, less than midsize engine, but fueled up and ready to go. It was my first venture onto Lake Travis.

    It had been a rainy season then so Travis was full, a deep azure blue and cold. Ginger didn't know the lake and I sure didn't so we spent a couple of leisurely hours cruising across the middle portion we were in then circuiting all the coves within eyesight of our homeport on top of the hill.

    I don't remember anything after that, but it was a funfilled experience I never forgot.



  9. #799
    Team Member Master Oil Racing Team's Avatar
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    About this same time....the late fall, early winter Baldy was a guest at Alex Wetherbee's house in Corpus Christi, Texas. Both Alex and his brother Tommy both lived in Corpus Christi at the time. I suspect Tommy and his wife Betty were both at the dinner.

    The Wetherbee's and our family enjoyed each other's company and had a lot of fun together. And so it was about the same time that I was spending the night on a porch overlooking Lake Travis that Baldy way having dinner at the Wetherbee's. No way of knowing for sure, but it all occurred within a few weeks of this same time period.

    As they were sitting around talking, the subject turned to guns. Then shotguns. Both Alex and his brother Tommy were avid hunters and gun collectors. Baldy had a lot of guns, but he wasn't a collector. Somehow the talk got to the point of shotguns and Baldy said "I can tell you the make and model of a shotgun blindfolded". Alex called his bluff. Alex said "I've got one you can't call!"

    Steve Wetherbee was sitting in my living room telling me this story yesterday that I have never heard.

    Baldy was sitting in a stuffed armchair after the meal, and in place where all the discussion had lead to this "I can" identify shotgun by the feel. Steve Wetherbee had been given a Remington 17 shotgun as a kid, and it was built off a Browning platform. Remington had planned to introduce it in 1917, but World War I was going on so Remington laid plans on the shelf. After the War Remington resumed where the left off and built the 1917 model from 1919 to 1921. They just postponed making it, but kept the model number. It is a rare model.

    In the 30''s Ithaca acquired the rights and began to build the Remington shotgun based on the original Browning design. Ithaca then changed the model number to 1937, the year they began to manufacture it. This is all prelude Steve told me regarding the story.

    As Steve's Dad Alex approached Baldy holding the rifle, Baldy had his head turned away, and Alex said "Okay Baldy....close your eyes". Steve was watching closely as his Dad Alex handed his own shotgun to Baldy. Baldy had his right hand held low and hands open and left hand extended up with fingers ready to grasp as Steve described how his Dad Alex fitted the shotgun into Baldy's hands as he closed around the stock and barrel.

    Grasping the shotgun, Baldy began to feel everything about it. Gently sliding his left hand up and down the barrel, feeling the stock, butt plate, trigger guard, trigger with his right hand. Sliding down the barrel ribs, pumping the action, checking out the receiver, etc. ..

    Steve watched the whole thing, and it didn't take that long and Steve told me Baldy said "Ithaca model 37" His Dad Alex said "Close" Baldy opened up his eyes and saw what he was looking at and Alex said "You were close" and Baldy said "You got me on that one".



  10. #800
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    Wayne, it took me a month, but I’m caught up on “Baldy,” all four years. Again, it’s a great story; I especially enjoyed the “On the Road” parts. You’re a regular boat-racing Jack Kerouac. As I said when we spoke, while reading about your travels through Louisiana, Sonny Landreth’s album, “South of I-10”, plays in my head. A few things that jumped out at me:

    1) You didn’t drink that much; no wonder you could remember all that stuff.
    2) Your wreck in the Marchetti where you tore the front off. Woof!
    3) Almost running out of gas on the Pontchartrain Bridge—I’ve done it, and the cop was very, very upset with me.
    4) Problems with the Chrysler New Yorker. Holy cow, that thing was a Jonah. But what else would a Southern Boy expect driving a car called a “New Yorker”?
    5) “Insufferable Leftists.”
    6) Master Oil: I was hoping you’d make a comparison with Mouse Milk, as I was curious.
    7) Hitting road signs with bottles. Apparently, among teenage boys, that’s universal. I wrote a poem about that years ago, but won’t mess up your thread further.

    Those were just a few, but there were many “fun” things in your story in addition to great boat racing history. Bueno!

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