Several people have told me that
when Ray Evernham was learning to drive a Modified at Wall Stadium in
New Jersey, he was given this piece of sage advice: “Just follow the
x3. Even if he goes through the fence, follow him.”
Fence not withstanding, it was
good advice for anyone who aspired to learn the smoothest way around the
racetrack. Gil Hearne, a longtime Wall dominator, perhaps said it best:
“The rest of us were just drivers. Jim was something else again—he was
in a class by himself.”
Jimmy Hendrickson didn’t start
competing at Wall until near the end of his driving days. But he always
left a strong impression on competitors, promoters, officials,
announcers, sports writers, and fans. Richie Evans used to say, “The car
I’m going to be looking for near the end of the long distance races is
the x3 because I know it will be there.”
Jimmy’s reputation for being
smooth and not abusing the equipment led to several nicknames during his
30-some-odd years as a driver. “Mr. Clean” might have started because of
the white moccasins and driver’s uniform he wore, but it also applied to
his style of driving. “Mr. Modified” worked well because he was at the
head of the class. But most knew him as “Gentleman Jim,” and it
certainly applied.
Look
Ma, One Hand
I
met Hendrickson when I was 12 years old, on May 3, 1959, on my first
trip to Islip (New York) Speedway. I had been a diehard stock car fan
for two years, but I never saw anything like I saw that afternoon.
Hendrickson drove a white ’37
Ford coupe with a big red “Flying A” gasoline station logo where the
number normally goes. The windows were greatly enlarged and you could
see right into the car from the stands. The amazing thing was what you
saw.
Hendrickson drove with one hand,
the other casually resting on the rollbar crossbrace; he maintained this
relaxed attitude as he cut through seemingly invisible traffic. The
fields were inverted back then and I saw him pass and lap almost
everyone else, not once or twice, but three times that day. They had a
holdover main from a rainout.
The people in the stands went nuts
as Hendrickson seemed to pass four or five cars every lap. During the
two mains he lapped most of the field. I found out later he cleaned
house the night before at The Polo Grounds in New York City.
I suppose the biggest event for me
that day was when my father asked, “Do you want to go meet him?” The
line in the pits to see Hendrickson resembled one for Santa Claus at a
department store. When I got my turn to say hello and shake hands, I was
almost speechless. It was my first encounter with a real live hero. We
would not speak to each other again for 35 years.
A $15
Race Car
I
called Hendrickson in Freeport, Long Island, on July 4, 1994, and
introduced myself. We talked about a book I was planning to write on
Saturday-night heroes. Two weeks later, I flew up from Nashville and
found myself in his living room. The excitement was just as intense, but
this time I didn’t freeze up. We spent hours together on several
occasions after that, and made many long-distance phone calls. Jimmy
introduced me to a lot of his family, friends, and competitors, and I
feel I really got to know the man.
As smooth as he was in 1959, I
found out it didn’t start that way 10 years earlier when he first showed
up at Freeport Stadium with a $15 ’37 Ford
sedan, fresh from the junkyard. “I had trouble keeping the
left-front wheel down and rolled it one night six times,” Hendrickson
said. A move several years later to what was then called Islip Stadium
proved more fruitful. Hendrickson won his first main there in 1952 and
collected $23.50.
Islip became Hendrickson’s home
for nearly a quarter of a century. He won the track championship five
times. When he left to go to Wall in the late ’70s, only five wins
separated him from Al DeAngelo, the all-time Islip feature winner who
would also become one of his closest friends.
In the early ’60s, Islip promoter
Larry Mendelsohn came up with a 500-lap Modified race with a $1,200
purse. It drew competitors from all over the East Coast. Hendrickson won
the event. Bobby Allison, NASCAR’s Modified champ that year, came in
second.
Hendrickson had the NASCAR
Modified crown sewn up in 1958 but was stripped of his points by a
NASCAR official. “Islip was rained out, so we towed to Connecticut
around 100 miles away. The rule was: In a rainout, you could run at an
unsanctioned track if it was at least 50 miles away,” Hendrickson said.
“I never protested it, but what hurt was I had more points in mid-season
than Bud Olsen had by the end of the year when NASCAR gave him the
title.”
Daytona Bound
Hendrickson
ventured to Daytona three times. The first was at the opening of the
superspeedway. “Freddy Formato built a big Flying A ’39 Ford coupe for
it. It had full fenders and we punched out holes to let the air escape,”
Hendrickson said. “Qualified in the top 10, but the engine let go after
a few laps. The following year we returned with a ’57 Ford and ran
pretty well.”
That year was earmarked by the
biggest pileup in NASCAR history—some 35 cars plowed into each other on
the first lap. Hendrickson got through the pileup, and the ensuing
rainstorm, as some 60 laps were run under caution. He finished 11th.
“The car still had wipers and I used them, though they smeared the
cement NASCAR used for speedy dry.”
The third try was in 1961 and this
time it was for all the marbles, the actual 500 itself. “We bought a ’60
Chevy off Jim Reed. Qualified pretty good between Ned Jarrett and
Richard Petty. We were just a couple of backyard guys from Long Island …
we didn’t know much. I was in the 125 qualifier and Junior Johnson
either spun in someone’s oil or his own.
“This caused Petty to get
airborne. I expected Richard to come back down, didn’t think he was
going to go out of the park. So I hit the brakes and got airborne
myself. When I hit Junior, he was off the track. Had I stayed on the gas
I would have went right by him. We were credited with a 10th-place
finish and we could have put a new nose on the car in time for the 500,
but Freddy was too concerned.”
Modified Magic
Freddy
Formato got out of racing and along came Tony Ferrante. People most
remember the partnership of Ferrante as a car owner, Bobby Punzi as a
mechanic, and Jimmy as the driver of a long line of blue and white X3
Modifieds. “We were together 18 good years and never had an argument,”
Hendrickson said.
Their winning ways became so
predictable at Islip, writers ran headlines like, “Hendrickson Wins
Again … So What’s New?”
Through the ’60s they traveled to
tracks at Old Bridge, Trenton, Reading, and Langhorne, but called Islip
home.
After Larry Mendelsohn died,
several promoters
took over Islip. Hendrickson and the x3 team pulled up
stakes and migrated to Wall, where Hendrickson became a track champion
also.
Although he started his career
there and was a longtime Freeport resident, Hendrickson didn’t return to
his backyard track until 30 years later, when, at the age of 53, he
entered a 200-lap Modified event. He was up against some stiff
competition from younger racers like Charlie Jarzombek, Maynard Troyer,
Geoff Bodine, Jerry Cook, and Richie Evans. The X3 Vega was first across
the line.
Goodbye Jimmy
Hendrickson and I became good buddies and stayed in touch with each
other from 1994 on. In early 1997 he sent me some 8mm home movies from
Islip, Trenton, Daytona, Old Bridge, and other places, and I had them
transferred to videotape. When I got them back, I called him at home. He
was getting his motorhome ready to leave for his annual winter trip to
Florida.
Usually brief on the phone, this
time Hendrickson spoke for almost an hour as he relived the moments on
the tape.
The next morning the phone rang
early. It was Marty Himes saying, “I have very bad news.” My instant
reply was, “Jimmy’s gone isn’t he?” That week I found myself back on the
island again spending a lot of time with his family and friends.
If there ever was a model for how
to conduct yourself in life it was Gentleman Jim Hendrickson. The words
of longtime friend and sportswriter Gary London seem to sum it up the
best, “Jim…You did OK.”
Article from StockCarRacing.com
