A Report On The Accident That Killed Bill
Vukovich In The 1955 Indianapolis 500-Mile-Race
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A Report On The Accident That Killed Bill Vukovich In The 1955 Indianapolis 500-Mile-Race
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Indy's Greatest Driver? Here is a question that might go unanswered. Bob Russo has reasons and statistics as he picks Vukovich for this coveted number one spot in American Racing From Speed Age magazine, July, 1956 By Bob Russo According to official records, Bill Vukovich won the famed Indianapolis 500-Mile-Race twice in succession, thereby placing his name among the select group of four others who have won this grueling contest more than once. This alone ranks him as one of the all-time greats produced at Indianapolis, but can we go beyond what the book says and declare Vukovich the greatest of all greats? Was he really the greatest driver ever to turn a wheel over the historic bricks? They are now arguing these points -- now that the chunky Californian with the wavy black hair is dead. But there can be only one answer. Vukovich was Indy's greatest driver, bar none and despite all argument. Sure, there were others who were good and nearly as great; and in the future there may be others who will, perhaps, outrank the late champion. But this is highly unlikely, at least for a good many years to come. Proclaiming Vukovich as the greatest of all Indianapolis drivers is a contentious declaration, to say the least; still, who else out of the Speedway's forty-four year history can be measured with the same degree of greatness, or equal performance records set by Vukovich in five short years of Indy competition? Shaw perhaps? Meyer and Rose? Or the unforgettable Tommy Milton? They were great too, and each made more than one trip to Victory Lane, but still Vukie produced the better overall performance record by comparison. He was a combination of all the great drivers who ever raced the bricks. He had more lust for victory than any other man who ever stepped foot inside Gasoline Alley and he reacted to competition in much the same manner as Milton -- with cold contempt for any man who dared challenge him on the track. He possessed the wisdom of Meyer; the cunningness of Shaw; and the stealth of Rose. More than that, he owned a measure of stamina all his own which other men envied and attempted to imitate but never could quite duplicate. And most important of all, perhaps, is the fact that Bill still was at his peak when he crashed to his death last May. Where the others had reached their prime with two or three victories, Vukie was far from over the hill. This much was indicated by a multitude of racing men who contend that only two elements could have prevented Bill from becoming the only man in history to win the Classic three times in succession: car failure or an accident. It was the latter that stopped him and took his life. No, there shouldn't be any argument at all. Percentage wise, Vukovich had no peers at Indianapolis. Shaw, Meyer and Rose were three time winners while Bill Triumphed twice, but his average was better by far. In five races he drove a total of 1,690 miles, leading 1,210 of them or 71.5 percent of the time he spent in competition. No other driver, from 1911 on, every hung up such a fantastic record. Vukovich was almost brutal in his lust for victory. if he possessed any fear, no one knew about it, and the tremendous determination that drove him sometimes mystified even those who were close to him. He defied every record and rule that ever was written, driving the turns at impossible speed. He took chances that made other men shudder but for Vukie, they were cool, calculated risks and he never once spun or found himself in trouble. There is speculation now as to whether Vukie had time to make a decision on that fatal 56th lap.. Movies of the entire four car pileup which claimed his life last May, seem to indicate that he didn't. At any rate, if he did, it was less than a fraction of a second and the situation was a hopeless one. Under the circumstances, the outcome could not have been different. During the course of his Indianapolis career, Vukovich practically rewrote the entire record book. He set records all the way from qualifying to the 500-mile mark which still stands in his name. In 1952, the year he kissed the wall only nine laps from victory, he accounted for 16 of the 25 records listed in the book of records. He completely dominated this race to such a degree that many credit him with victory even though he was awarded 17th position. In 1953, he rolled into Victory Lane after leading all but four of the 200-laps, a feat that ranks second only to that of Billy Arnold who won the race in 1930 after leading all but two circuits. Vukie started on the pole that year, which placed him in the rather exclusive group with the four pole position winners who turned out to be race victors from that coveted starting berth. It was one of the hottest races on record, too, and driver after driver wilted under the unmerciful sun, calling for relief. But dynamite couldn't have rooted Vukovich from his cockpit that day. He was enjoying himself and he gave no more thought to relief than he did to refusing his portion of the $246,300 purse. The following year he reached Victory Lane for the second time in succession, becoming the third man in history to do so. this time he brought with him a record 130.840 mph average which is the existing 500-mile mark today. And he brought it all the way from 19th starting position, which is quite an accomplishment. Both Vukovich victories came the hard way, without the help of mechanical failure on the part of another competitor. He beat his competition hands down, using a combination of skill and stamina to steer himself to victory. This method of humbling his competition was another standard of measure which made Vukie great. Bill made great newspaper copy. He was poker faced and sleepy eyed and usually not too talkative to the typewriter boys. He actually shunned publicity, for that was his philosophy. He knew his qualities but he kept to himself a good deal, or with those close to him. Despite his reactions to the press, the newspapermen loved him and regarded him with marked respect. Vukie never minced any words with anyone, least of all the press. He always spoke his feelings, be they complimentary or insulting, and the target of his remarks took them and like it. Because he was so brutally frank in his way of thinking, men respected him greatly. I doubt if Vukie ever had a real enemy. Sure, there were plenty of guys who appeared irate at his constant needling, but secretly, they admired him strongly. Bill never tried to impress anyone, least of all himself, but he loved to torment his fellow drivers by berating them in a friendly way. Actually, he helped a good many drivers with his taunting, for it helped relieve the tension that always goes with Indianapolis. Vukie raced only to win. When he first appeared at Indianapolis in 1951, a friend who had followed his career in the midges on the West Coast stated: "I'm picking Vukovich. He only knows one place to run and that's up front." Vukie failed to finish his first 500, in 1951. An oil leak forced him to the sidelines after 29 laps, but not before he had opened a few eyes along Gasoline Alley. So far as the press was concerned, he still was an unknown newcomer who failed to make too big an impression. But to the wise eyes of veteran mechanics and car owners, he was first class material. The following year, many felt the race was rightfully Bill's. He had set a new qualifying mark that year, after which he retired to the seclusion of his garage to escape the back slaps and congratulatory wishes that went with his accomplishment. Someone asked him why he wasn't out on the pit apron having his picture taken and he replied: "Aw, all those guys out there want to shake my hand." During the race a few days later, he fought a bitter duel with Troy Ruttman. he grabbed the lead finally, and kept it throughout most of the race, until it appeared certain that he was victory bound. Then, on the 191st lap, his steering gear failed and his car brushed the wall, while Ruttman roared on to win. But Bill was back the following year, without a word or an excuse for the hand fate had dealt him in 1952. A great many people underestimated his chances at victory, including this writer, but he won just as he knew he would. To those who watched him in action at Indianapolis, Bill was an artist. His victory in 1954 was even more thrilling than that of the previous year, for he truly displayed his skill and stamina by working through the pack from 19th place and going on to win. he drove a ruthless, relentless race that was magnified even more so last May when he was trying for three in a row. The manner in which he sat behind the wheel; the curt nod to his pit crew in answer to their signals; the fury with which he flailed his mount drew even more obvious neophyte spectator's attention. One glance as he dove below the white lane to pass a rival car, bulling his way steadily forward, and you were convinced that no man could compete against this driving master and come out best. No, Bill never left any doubt as to his greatness or his desire to win. He drove with a heavy foot and a clear head, choosing to race as hard as possible instead of riding a set pace. he preferred close competition to a runaway race and yet, when he was in the thick of a traffic jam, it seemed to stimulate him, to goad him on in much the same manner a bull reacts to a red flag, until he outran his rivals and left them far behind. Bill once told a group of friends before the 1954 race that he would never settle for second best. "If they offered me second place right now, he said, I wouldn't take it!" And he meant it, although it was not an attempt to toot his own horn. He believed that he was capable of winning, so why should he settle for second place if it were possible. Any man that would cannot be considered in the class of greatness. Physical fitness was a must with Vukie. He always was an early riser and each year, five months before the race, he went into training. He worked out in a gymnasium and rode a bicycle on long journies. At the Speedway throughout the month of May, he ran around the outside of the track daily and worked out on a special rig for strengthening his arms and shoulders. He never overlooked the smallest detail and that included his competition. Bill appeared sleepy eyed and oblivious to all that went on around him, but he knew more about his competition than the competition knew about itself. yet he never let on to anyone just how much he knew or what plans he formulated for each race. For the 1955 event, Bill had the odds stacked against him. No man had ever won three Classics in succession and he knew it, but he scorned the records. "I didn't come here for my health," he told a reporter who had inquired what he though his chances were of becoming a three-time winner. At the starting line, his face was stern, his mind focused on the task ahead. A pit crewman patted him on the back and said "Hurry back," to which he replied: "Will an hour and a half suit you?" He pulled away with a determination that indicated he meant every word. The details of the race that followed have been recounted many times. Vukovich drove with more fury than he had ever shown before. For him, this was the supreme test, a race against 32 other competitors and against a mythical jinx that had kept men before him from winning three straight races. Jack McGrath was Vukie's hottest competitor and the two of them wagged a tremendous duel throughout the first 27 laps. McGrath led the first three and Bill the next eleven. Then it was McGrath again, then Bill, see-sawing back and forth while the spectators held onto the edge of their seats. McGrath roared into the lead again on the 25th lap and Bill reacted with brutal pressure on the throttle. Passing the starting line, McGrath was ahead by a car length, riding the groove into the turn. Vukovich refused to give in. That irrepressible urge to be out front, to lead and to win, brought out all the daring and skill he possessed. Flying into the corner, he dove below McGrath, riding close to the infield where others refuse to ride. He roared out of the turn in first position and the lap, number 27, went into the books as the fastest single lap ever turned in competition at Indianapolis. It stands at 141.354. McGrath was sidelined shortly after, and Vukie had things his own way. The nod to his pit crew was not so curt now and it seemed only a matter of time before he brought his car into Victory Lane. But no one could foresee what was about to happen. Before Vukovich reached the southeast turn on his 57th lap, the accident was shaping up. Three cars tangled just short of the backstretch bridge, blocking the track almost hopelessly. Vukovich roared out of the turn with one opening but even as he steered for it, this vanished and his car piled into the mass, hurtling the guard rail, spinning, flipping and coming to rest in a mass of flame. The medics say he died before the car came to rest. Now that it's all over, Bill still ranks officially as a two-time winner according to the records. He never achieved his goal of winning three straight -- or did he? The speculation will always be there if you want to go beyond the records as many racing men have. And you can believe what you wish. Perhaps Vukie was a three or four time winner -- beyond the records. But this much is certain: he was Indy's greatest driver. You won't find that in the records anywhere but Bill took care of that much himself. He wrote his own records and it will be a long time before anyone equals them -- if ever. |
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