June, 18th 1955

1:42pm, Put-in-Bay Road Race

ASCC Championship, 2000cc Class

The crowd watched, breathless as the 13 exotic European sports cars fired to life. Their high strung engines pounded pistons violently as they warmed, the smell of high test gas hanging around in the air. The drivers strapped on their helmets and goggles, and those who had them attached their safety belts. Girlfriends and wives leaned in for what could be their final goodbye, a fact made all too real about a week before at LeMans. As the klaxon sounded and the pace car slowly pulled away, Fredric Edsel put his hand built supercharged MG into gear, riding the clutch, he got the car rolling and quickly turned to follow. William Herbert Jr. and his Morgan rolled out just behind, and together they led the field for the parade lap. The entirety of the 5th grade class he taught was in attendance for today’s race with parents and all. Undoubtedly, it would be a field trip they would never forget.

Put-in-Bay was a bumpy, hot, and slick track. Measuring in at 3.1 miles long, the surface was half Asphalt and half macadam, a mixture of Gravel and Tar used to pave the road. It was the forth race of the day, and the macadam was gradually wearing away. Grooves and ruts were forming in the turns, and on the five-thousand foot long main straight, spectators would see the lighter cars leaping into the air as they passed. For Jackie D. “Hotshot” Shepherd, starting fifth in a custom supercharged, featherweight Porsche coupe, keeping the car on the track was priority number one.

Rounding the second corner, known as the “Airport Corner”, the cars entered a bumpy short straight. It led to the spectators preferred viewing point, a one hundred twenty degree corner known as “Cemetery corner” due to its proximity to the noted landmark. The back straight was much smoother than the front being paved with asphalt. An unnamed left hand kink took the cars into the braking zone for the “Palace Corner,” and onto the start finish straight. The pitlane sat just around the first corner on the main straight due right, but the pace car dove off the course into a parking lot that served as the pre-race paddock. The starter stood on the side of the track holding the green flag, and as it dropped, Edsel and Herbert and the whole field behind them stood on the throttle. The race was on!

Turn 1 was an asphalt, ninety degree bend. It led out of town towards the airport and had curbs to either side. Edsel diving into the corner on the inside, clipped the curb, the crowd jumping back as he did. The MG went up on two wheels, and came across Herbert’s line. Thinking fast, he hammered the brakes and dove to the inside of the track. Squeezed between the out of control MG and the pit lane, Herbert gunned for the lead early! A few yards behind, Hotshot Shepherd and his Porsche were living up to their name’s as it slid sideways towards the outside curbing. He had a lightning start, jumping third and fourth position before the start finish line, but he now found himself on the outside of turn one, and worse the MG was two wheeling in front of him. He had to slow down to avoid plowing into the back of him, as did the whole field. Dropping a gear, he followed the Morgan and accelerated past the pits. The crowd went wild, cheering as the cars screamed past, passing through a gentle right and onto the front straight away.

The track transitioned to the macadam, Herbert’s and the heavier Morgan powered through with little issue. Shepherd tried desperately to stay in his tire tracks, but even then the Porsche bounced and bucked over the lumps. Speeds were approaching 95 MPH as they started braking for Airport Corner. Third gear, second, turn in, inside wheels cutting the ditch slightly, back on the throttle. Both cars struggled for traction, but the Morgan powered ahead. Just behind, Edsel had dropped a couple positions and third now belonged to a hard charging veteran of the race, Charles Schmidt driving his famous “number 72” Supercharged MG. Schmidt used to be a champion Sailboat racer along with his father Donald Schmidt, but Charles transitioned to Automobile Racing after the war. A stint with the Navy in the Pacific made him never want to see the ocean again.

Cemetery corner saw the cars transitioning back to asphalt, the crowds watched from a hill top shaded by trees. They cheered on the drivers as they scorched down the back straight. Shepherd’s Porsche had an advantage here, he pulled away from Schmidt and started gaining on Herbert but had to fall back into line for the left hand kink. Speeds were much higher now, over 110 MPH, and the track narrowed considerably for the Palace, a large hotel and boating club who sponsored the race. Again the drivers hammered the brakes, and turned right, down the start finish straight. 1 lap down, 11 to go.

Just behind the leaders another car was starting to make its way up the field, a sleek and modern red roadster called the Ace. Having been a late entry, it started in thirteenth and was climbing fast, moving now into eighth position. None of the drivers knew the pilot, and most hadn’t even noticed the car on the grid at all. However it was making itself known now, as it powered it’s way through the field. Meanwhile back at the front, Herbert’s, Shepherd, and Schmidt still led the way. Schmidt again started catching the Porsche on the rough roads as it leapt back and forth barely controllably. But he didn’t dare try and overtake, instead he stuck to his bumper, and followed through both Airport and Cemetery. Behind a Triumph found itself pointing the wrong way into Cemetery corner. He had been unceremoniously deposited by another driver into the hay bales, and the race officials quickly waved yellow caution flags as the rest of the field came through. Despite the damage, he would refire and rejoin the race.

Passing through the kink, and into the palace for the second time, Herbert looked in his mirrors. The small silver Porsche was hounding him, sliding in a four wheel drift onto the start finish straight. Lap 2 completed, but how long could he keep it up. Into turn one, past the pit lane, onto the bumpy stuff. The racing line was starting to smooth out, and the Porsche was better able to keep up. Herbert started sweating, he knew his lead would be short lived. Meanwhile, even though the track was smoothing out, Shepherd was being thrown violently around the cockpit. The world looked like it was in a blender filled with gasoline and noise, and worst of all the smell of his brakes. The car was insanely fast for its size but that came at a steep cost. Only 2 laps in, and the brakes were already fading. Still, through Cemetery he pushed for the lead, and at over 100 MPH he played chicken with the much heavier Morgan into the kink. Both drivers refused to give up their positions, and as the road narrowed and curved away to the left, Shepherd found himself on the inside for the approaching right. Both drivers braked as late as they dared. Shepherd was starting to feel the heat of his brakes in the petal as they howled in bloody murder. But with a stroke of luck, Herbert locked up skidding towards the curb and a row of shops. Spectators scattered as Herbert slammed the car into low gear in a last ditch effort to stop. The Morgan spun and rear ended a light pole and Shepherd found himself in the lead, with Schmidt coming through into second. Lap 3.

Pole Sitter Fred Edsel was now battling with the Ace for 7th position. His MG looked like an antique compared to the new machinery, it’s bright red paint gleaming in the sun. It’s powerful high revving Bristol, inline 6 engine screamed of European exotica, it was the sort of car you expected to see at LeMans a week before. In a sense, it made Fred proud. Here was his ancient home built and tuned MG keeping up with the latest Europe had to offer, least here in the 2000cc Class. For Edsel, that was the ultimate goal in motorsport, to simply build a better motorcar than his competition. However, time and technology always seemed to inevitably march forward, always a step or two of “old Eds,” and Down the bumpy front straightaway the Ace took the position, It’s modern suspension system soaking up the bumps much better than the older MG.

At the front of the field, Schmidt could see the smoke trailing out of the Porsche, and by smell he could identify his brakes were failing. Coming into Airport, Shepherd was forced to slide into the turn, barely able to slow down. His pride motivated him to floor the pedal again, down towards Cemetery. Again he slid into the corner, holding his brakes for all they were worth, but it wasn’t enough. At 50 MPH he slid out of control, smashing through a fence and some hay bales as the car climbed the hill. People scrambled to get out of the way, leaving their picnic baskets in panic as Shepherd rocketed towards them. Somehow, more by will than skill one would suspect, Shepherd pulled the car back down towards the track. Still unable to stop, the car plunged into a thicket of bushes and disappeared from Schmidt and the other racer’s views. It emerged at a snail’s pace on the other side, and stayed that way. For Jackie Shepherd, the race was over, he limped the car back to the pitlane.

The running order now went like this, Schmidt was running in first at the start of lap 4 in his number 72 MG, Second belonged to the African American muscleman named Bob Lewis, who had squeezed himself into his mostly stock Triumph, Third saw another Porsche, this one a more modern 550 speedster driven by Jack Martin, who quickly becoming one of the Top sports car talents in North America. Forth now belonged to the hard charging Red AC Ace, and Fifth belonged to Fredric Edsel in which it overhauled earlier. For Schmidt, not much changed from lap 4 to lap 6, however coming down the straight into Cemetery, he hit a massive bump. The MG’s steering wheel jerked out of his hand and the car shook violently. On the back straight it was clear the steering was misaligned, Cursing, Schmidt slowed. Having seen what just happened to the Porsche, he figured it would be best not to test his luck.

Bob Lewis came across the stricken MG first, but a moment's hesitation trapped him behind Schmidt and let the Porsche and Ace by. At full bore, the two newest cars in the field charged the kink. Jack Martin glanced down at his speedometer, the rough roads had broken something and the needle was flicking back and forth between 0 MPH and 130 MPH, he assumed the latter as the cars braked for Palace. To his surprise, the Ace suddenly dove for the inside of the corner. Martin gave him space but the Ace still ran up and over the curb. Amazingly, he managed to take the lead. The flag man held up his hand as they passed signaling 5 laps to go... (Due to Character Limitations, To Be Continued in Part 2)