Y
ou have every sensanon of being hurled through space. The machine is throbbing under you
with its cylinders beating a
drummer's tattoo, and the air tears past you in a
gale. In its maddening dash through the swirling dust the machine takes on the attributes of a sentient thing ... I tell you, gentlemen: no man can dnve faster and live'"
It is June 20, 1903. Barney Oldfteld, billed
as "America's Premier Driver," has just become
• the first man in America to drive a gas-powered
automobtle around a dirt track at-think of
it-a
mile
a
minute'
Now
his
agent
is
telling
a
group
of
rube
reporters
about
the thrilhng rigors
of
uuimaginable
speed.
"The
chest
of
a
driver
is
forced
in,"
he
says.
"Average
lungs
can't
overcome
the
outward
force
and
the
result
is
like
strangulation. Blood rushes to t):le head, temporary
but complete paralysis of mind gye': body qecurs." The thrill of such speeds, ' ·' ·(
and such hype, was not f
confined to flacks.
A month later Old field drove even faster at the Empire City Track in Yonkers, New York, and The Automobile magazine described him taking a curve: "The rear wheels
slid sideways for a distance
• of 50 feet, throwing up a
huge cloud of dirt. Men
were white-faced and breathless, while women covered their eyes and
They named cars in those days; that day Oldfield was driving old 999-named after the record-breaking locomotive on the New York Central line. The car had been designed and built by Henry Ford, an obscure Detroit automaker. Ford had driven 999 himself in a few races, but
m 1902 he turned it over to this 24-year-old bike racer from Ohio. It was Barney Old field who made Ford a household word. "Race on Sunday, sell on Monday" was the watchword. Of course 999 was nothing like the regular cars Ford made, but they were preuy good, too.
It would be nice to report that the Smithsonian
owns 999, but it belongs to the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan, where it has resided since 1919. But Oldfield, who dominated car rac1ng for Len years, seL records in the object at hand, namely a Winton Bullet, one of ·•
by the Smithsonian and now on lontQ-t. n
the
Crawford
Auto-Aviation
Museum
in
Cleveland.
•
Just after the turn of the l20th] century the whole world was car-crazy. In the United States, there were scores of automakers, and most of
them built for the rich. Ford made history-and a
fortune-by building for the masses. In 1908 he came out with the great Model T, a simple machine (''the customer can have any color he wants so long as it's black," he said) that could be fixed with a hacksaw, a hammer and a pair of pliers, and cost
$825. His idea was to produce cars that his workers
could afford to buy, a radical concept that, some historians say, helped ensure that America would never have a worker-led revolution.
The more you read about the early cars, the
more you realize that some of the wind-whtstling hype was true-at least driving them was often a very dangerous adventure. Before one early race,
999's engine began to sputter for lack of fuel. Quick
as a wink Oldfield cut a hole in the gas tank, stuck in a hose and kept blowing air in as his partner, seizing the tiller, drove all the way around the track. Thereafter, he It ked to call himself a human
gas pump.
• Soon every small boy in the country was
copying Oldfield's swagger and round goggles. "We
love his grimy,
goggled face I His matchless daring in a race," a bit of popular doggerel declared. He used to come to towns for races in his private
•
Family driving in a Ford Model Tor a rural road, 1910s.
railroad
car.
Hts
agent
would
announce
that
he would
take
on
all
comers
at
the
local
horse
track,
a dirt oval found in almost every village. Suspense built, and finally the great man emerged, cigar clamped in his mouth to cushion the place where he'd broken some molars m a crash. He usually grinned at the crowd, shouted, "You know me, Barney Oldfield'" and took off around the track, steering with a tiller, fighting the bumps. Oil
from the open crankshaft jetting up in hts face, a hurricane of dirt thrown up on his skidding turns. He always won-he had the fastest car, after all, and each time his promoters would claim he'd set
a new speed record. The crowd, feeling a part of history, went wild.
This was a time before garages: cars were still kept in carnage houses and stables. Only a fraction of the nation's roads were paved. By 1902, only
909 cars had been registered in all of New York.
The first official gasoline-powered auto race in the country had been held in Chicago in 1895, when Frank Duryea's one-cylinder car beat all contenders after a grueling ten-hour, 52 mile trek-average speed 5.1 mph. The first offtcial auto show was held in 1900 at Madison Square Garden, with 31 cars displayed, many of them still steam-powered.
The first Winton Bullet, built in 1902, had four cylinders and a leather clutch facing that wore out quickly. Pistons were cast irons. Ii res blew out
with frightening frequency. The second Bullet had eight cylinders: two in-line four cylinder engines that were bolted together. In 1904
Oldfield drove it 84 mph
at Ormond Beach, Florida. These machines were monsters. Bullet No. 1 had cylinders as large in diameter as a coffee can. The 999
had a wooden clutch and a
230-pound flywheel that was two feet across and six inches thick.
August 1903 headline: "A
Carnival of Speed at Yonkers' Track." Oldfield drove 64.52 mph. By the end of 1904,
•
Barney Oldfield held most of the dirt track records from one to 50 miles. In a ume when a skilled worker made $2 a day, Oldfield once won $650 in a single race; he eventually commanded thousands of dollars just to show up. He set records in a
Peerless Green Dragon, a
Stutz, a
Blitzen Benz, and
the Miller Golden Sub-the first enclosed racing
car, gilded and shaped like an egg. In 1910 he nudged the Blitzen Benz to 131.25 mph, "fastest
ever traveled by a human being," to become "Speed
King of the World."
He raced against airplanes. He raced against trains, including once in a Mack SenneLL movie where he arrived just in lime to save Mabel Normand.
With his agent, the ingenious Will Pickens,
•
Oldfield soon was making money hand over fist. He often sported thousands of dollars' worth of jewelry, including a four-carat diamond pinky ring, and he handed out $5 tips when a dime would do. Once in San Francisco, greeted at the station by a brass band, he invited all 65 musicians to dinner at the Palace Hotel and paid a tab of $845, two years' income for many Americans at the time. He spent thousands in bars, where he gained a scandalous reputation as a brawler. What money he didn't
drink up or bet on horses seemed to go for fines
posed by the American Automobile Association, which, from 1902, was the self-proclaimed arbiter
of all speed records and which insisted on a certain