(Editor’s note – We’re honored to have this guest submission from Bret Kepner that stands as the definitive chronicle of “Broadway” Bob Metzler’s life and career as one of the definitive drag race track owners and promoters in the history of the sport.)

(Words by Bret Kepner) – When word spread of the death of Robert W. Metzler on Friday, July 27, 2012, social media was immediately flooded with thousands of farewells, comments and remembrances of one of the most revered individuals in the history of the hot rodding industry. Metzler had been in failing health for several years and his imminent passing was accepted by his closest friends and even Metzler himself. Yet, even on his final day, few of the millions influenced by Metzler accurately recognized the lasting effects of the phenomenal life lived by the man known as “Broadway Bob”.

In all walks of life, the term “legend” is reserved for those whose achievements rank far above those of their peers and the few who accomplish seemingly impossible tasks. Within drag racing, Metzler exceeded the label of “legend” and encroached upon mythic status. The title was for good reason; the innumerable stories of the escapades of the man were, quite simply, all true.

His reputation was no accident. Bob Metzler was a promotional genius who eventually turned himself into one of the most recognizable individuals in the sport despite never having won a trophy. Metzler was bigger than life; he made certain of it. Using a fifty-one acre plot of land four miles west of Kenosha, Wisconsin, as a canvas, Metzler painted a life of extraordinary risk, infallible intuition, outrageous behavior and incredibly hard work. The finished portrait reflected every attribute of the man through his final minutes on the planet.

Metzler was born just south of Green Bay, Wisconsin, and raised during the Great Depression with an ethic of doing whatever was deemed necessary to achieve goals. It was stint in the U.S. Marines during the Korean War which took Metzler from the upper Midwest to southern California. Already a fan of auto racing, Metzler often attended events at legendary SoCal oval tracks but was invited by friends to view an entirely new form of competition; in 1951, Metzler watched cars accelerate from a standstill over a straight-line quarter-mile distance at a small airstrip in Santa Ana during races presented by C.J. Hart. Metzler enjoyed what he saw and noticed the paying spectators enjoyed it even more.

During his military service, Metzler honed a previously-hidden ability to his first major success. Bob Metzler was a gambler. After losing money in a few after-hours card games, Metzler noticed the dealer held a distinct advantage in the game of blackjack. He learned all he could of blackjack odds and began holding his own games during weekends. Since the position of dealer was highly sought by potential “customers”, Metzler took every stimulant available in order to begin play on Friday night and maintain control of the deck until late Sunday evening. He may not have been a better solider but, by the time he left the service and returned to Milwaukee in 1955, Bob Metzler was a fairly wealthy man.

Once home, Metzler informed his Wisconsin friends of the new sport of “drag racing” and was surprised to learn the sport had been flourishing in northern Illinois since his departure and three tracks in the Milwaukee area were already in operation. With his bank account padded by his military pay and his pockets bulging with “unreported earnings” from his weekend activities, Metzler knew the drag racing craze sweeping the country could reap substantial profits if properly promoted. He immediately went to work consolidating the twenty-five car clubs in the Milwaukee area into the Great Lakes Timing Association, By year’s end, the new group comprised over five hundred members.

In early 1956, Metzler arranged for Bud Coons, the ex-police officer who was the public face of the emerging National Hot Rod Association, to attend a town meeting in Milwaukee to help the GLTA convince the public of the need for a purpose-built drag strip. Metzler had watched the NHRA’s Safety Safari assist in the opening of tracks across the country and brought Coons, whose sole purpose was to present an authoritative argument for the clubs in need of a place to race, to accomplish that goal. Coons did his job and sold the idea to the one hundred and forty civic leaders in attendance, (including forty police officers from surrounding cities). The GLTA got their parcel of land west of Kenosha near the small town of Union Grove and the new president of the GLTA, Robert W. Metzler, bankrolled the majority of the $35,000 project.

The preceding paragraphs only set the stage for the emergence of Metzler as legend, the history of whom is often woefully inaccurate. For no good reason, 1955 has been repeatedly cited as the opening year of Metzler’s dragstrip. However, grading and construction on the land, performed by the GLTA members, began on May 20, 1956, and the track, sporting the unusual name of Great Lakes Dragaway, opened under NHRA sanction and completed its first event on Sunday, October 7, 1956. Metzler was elated as two thousand spectators each paid ninety cents to watch Al Pfeifer of Kenosha wheel his Cadillac-powered 1950 Mercury to the first trophy in a field of 121 vehicles. The track ran five events through November 11, 1956. However, the first events included major problems including dusty or muddy grounds, disorganized parking and, not least of all, a poor racing surface. Despite tremendous attendance in its abbreviated first season, Metzler spent the winter planning a much greater attempt. He also noticed instability among the GLTA and, when it reorganized into the Michigan Shores Timing Association, Metzler restructured the track’s business as Great Lakes Dragaway, Inc., with two other individuals as partners to ensure its security against the possibility of infighting among a large membership.

The track was repaved and revamped with new grandstands, clocks and P.A. system through the spring of 1957 and racing on the new surface resumed on June 30, 1957.  Attendance dropped from its 1956 levels but Metzler was now free to do anything necessary to draw a crowd. He began making friendships with sports editors from every newspaper within two hundred miles. He attended any automotive-themed gathering to personally hand out flyers for upcoming events. In short, Bob Metzler became a promoter. In a matter of days, he presented a “reopening event” on July 4, 1957, (a Thursday race), and doubled the previous week’s turnout. Metzler then went on a publicity tour as far north as Green Bay and as far south a Chicago to promote the track’s “Grand (re) Opening” on Saturday and Sunday, August 3 and 4, 1957. Handing out flyers to every human he met and building the excitement of the race to anyone who would listen, Metzler promised over four hundred race cars would be on the property for the event…even though the track had never drawn more than one hundred eighty to any previous event.

The “Grand Opening” pulled four hundred sixty cars and over thirty-one hundred spectators. Bob Metzler was officially a promoter…a damned good one.

Thus began a legend. Over the next five decades, Metzler built his empire and reputation on the fact an event is only as big as people THINK it is. The key to his success as a promoter was simply to build an extravaganza and then deliver one. It was the mounting excitement and enthusiasm which drew the fans and it was the on-track delivery of the premise which made those paying customers leave the track satisfied and ready for the next spectacle. Most of all, the world had to know about it. Metzler spent days each week on the road delivering flyers and posters, offering interviews to sportswriters and working out major long-term advertising deals with radio stations across the area.

Likewise, Metzler knew access to the track was critical to his survival. One of his first major changes after the August “Grand Opening” was to open the track on both Saturday and Sunday every week, unheard of in 1957. He produced his first major event, the Illinois-Wisconsin Inter-State Championships, on October 19-20 and drew a massive crowd in what was to be the final event of the season. However, when Milwaukee experienced a rare Indian Summer, Metzler realized every other track in the north central part of the country was already closed…so he ran events all the way up to November 10 and killed ’em.

Metzler then began a lifelong obsession with identifying what his customers liked. He paid close attention to the types of drag racing vehicles which drew the most attention but he watched even more closely every social trend, from music to fashion to political views, and incorporated those fads into his track, his events and, most importantly, himself.

Initially, Bob Metzler presented a polished image to those on whom he relied to publicize Great Lakes Dragaway. It was the look of success which he believed breeded the same and, in fact, he was correct. In that era, it was imperative to offer the appearance exactly the opposite of the public perception of a dragstrip operator…even to his customers.

In 1958, Metzler went “big”. He cultivated an advertising relationship with WLS radio which, at the time, was one of the most powerful stations east of the Rocky Mountains. As a “clear channel” AM station, it could be heard from its Chicago base to Key West, Florida. As one of the most popular rock-and-roll stations on the planet, ads on WLS gave Metzler unprecedented coverage for potential customers. However, he was also aware the regular mention of Great Lakes Dragaway across three-quarters of the country would give the track recognition beyond his wildest dreams. The commercials weren’t cheap but Metzler was a gambler. Even though he advertised with a dozen other stations, Metzler believed in the power of perception. It worked.

Also in 1958, Metzler created a huge three-day event on Memorial Day weekend known as the Midwest Championships. To be contested on Friday, Saturday and Sunday of the holiday weekend, (even Metzler was wary of going up against the relatively close Indianapolis 500), it was promoted, as one might expect, to be the biggest drag race anywhere. It was a daytime race, (Metzler would not install lights until 1960), which retained his now-standard ninety-cent admission. Metzler attended every car show, city parade, car club meeting and baptism with his flyers and posters and, combined with his radio advertising and newspaper contacts, “papered the world” with promotion. The race was a monstrous success but the Sunday finals were rained out. Metzler, in a moment of genius, simply rescheduled the finals for Father’s Day, June 15, and repeated his previous promotional tour. Incredibly, it rained again. Metzler rescheduled the finals for June 22 and, for the third time, covered the Illinois-Wisconsin area with posters, flyers and radio spots. It was a stunning risk but four hundred twelve race cars and three thousand six hundred spectators showed for the completion of the event. Forty-eight hours after the race, Metzler announced the three-day Great Lakes National Championships to be held only two weeks later over the July 4 holiday weekend…and he promised five hundred race cars.

Touted as the “Indianapolis of Drag Racing”, the race, with only two weeks notice, drew five hundred seventy racers, (including such names as Art Arfons, whose Allison-powered “Green Monster” clocked a 150 mph track record), while six thousand spectators watched.

Metzler moved the Inter-State Championships to Labor Day weekend and scored a huge crowd but one of his largest successes came from a “Sports Car Gymkhana and Drag Race” on September 20, which, as possibly the first “sport compact” event in history, drew an equally strong crowd with an extremely risky promotion. Metzler’s attention to trends was paying off.

During the off-season, Metzler contemplated many aspects of the sport. It was the reaction of the Great Lakes Dragaway crowd to the Arfons Brothers’ “Green Monster” which caused Metzler to offer the duo a cash guarantee to return to the track for the 1959 season. Metzler also realized the NHRA’s 1957 ban on nitromethane-burning machines kept him drawing cars and drivers who were quickly becoming the most popular on the nation’s tracks. For the 1959 season, Metzler split from the NHRA and offered cash guarantees to a pair of up-and-coming nitro stars, local campaigner Chris Karamesines and a record-setting Floridian named Don Garlits.

In actuality, Metzler’s destiny was forged in those first three years of the history of Great Lakes Dragaway. His break from the NHRA led the track being sanctioned by nearly every other governing body in the sport’s history over the next thirty years. Because he so closely followed the popularity of drag racing machinery and drivers, Metzler simply became affiliated with whichever group was presenting the most popular program. From NHRA to AHRA to NASCAR to IHRA, Great Lakes Dragaway flew the flag of any association which offered the biggest show at the most advantageous price. Metzler never hosted an NHRA National Event simply because he could make a bigger profit by presenting an even larger event on his own. In fact, when NO group could offer him a better deal, he simply created his own, the (intentionally) outrageously-named National Association of Drag Strips, (NADS), which was formed to allow Metzler to promote one particular type of vehicle.

Through his association with the Arfons Brothers, Metzler knew of Walt Arfons’ plans to build a dragster powered by a jet aircraft engine. Metzler pleaded, (and bargained), with Walt to debut the car at Great Lakes Dragaway. A deal was struck and the jet-powered “Green Monster” was eventually ready for its first runs on July 31, 1960. With  Metzler’s sanctioning under NADS, there were no politics concerning the running of such an insane machine and Metzler promoted the machine’s public unveiling beyond anything he had previously conceived. Metzler used his salesmanship to get everybody from local city officials to Wisconsin Governor Gaylord Nelson to attend the event. Three thousand seven hundred fans appeared that day to witness the running of a single vehicle but only Arfons and Metzler knew it was a completely untested machine. When the “Monster” popped, coughed and stumbled without an afterburner while dealing with balance and thrust problems to clock a speed barely over one hundred miles per hour, Metzler experienced what he would recall as his most horrific embarrassment. Within months, however, the car was running to its 200 mph potential and Metzler began a relationship with his favorite machines. Almost immediately, Great Lakes Dragaway became the official home of anything powered by a jet engine.

Using the same intuition with any new form of drag racing machinery, Metzler always took the initiative to gamble on something which would capture the imagination of his customers…and he was almost always right. While he promoted most of his events around nitro-burning and jet-powered dragsters, he watched intently the “horsepower wars” of the automotive manufacturers in the early 1960s and was presenting the nation’s most popular drivers in open competition and “match races” as early as 1962. Within two seasons, Metzler’s premonitions came true as he watched the fans revert to the original thrill of drag race between two production cars. Metzler would late recall the 1965 season as the most magnificent he would ever see. While he presented an almost weekly diet of the sport’s biggest stars in the Super Stock and later Factory Experimental categories, the cars transformed from carbureted, gas-burning stockers to fuel-injected, (and then supercharged), nitro-burners with altered wheelbases and radically modified bodies…all in a span of ten months. In a completely unregulated battle of elapsed times and speeds, the spectators flocked to Great Lakes Dragaway to see the changes made at each race. With Metzler’s promotional “machine” churning out updates, results, challenges, wagers and threats, every fan with a radio knew exactly what was happening in the evolution of what would become another massive spectacle upon which Metzler would capitalize…the Funny Car.

When the first wheelstanders appeared, Metzler brought them to “the track in Union Grove”. When the flip-top Funny Cars arrived in drag racing, Metzler had already been promoting them at Great Lakes Dragaway. When the sport again reverted back to its production car premise, Metzler was one of the first to offer the heads-up Super Stockers which would later become the first Pro Stock entries. In July, 1967, Metzler allowed an unique entry designed and built by Dick Keller and Pete Farnsworth to compete at Great Lakes Dragway; the car, the “X-1”, was powered by a hydrogen peroxide-fueled rocket engine. It was yet another of the sport‘s “firsts” facilitated by Bob Metzler. The later trends, including Pro Street, Pro Modified and any other class of competition, were always presented as soon as possible to the fans.

In 1966, the original Midwest Championships, (later the Memorial Day Championships), was retitled the Olympics of Drag Racing, (a name used by the NHRA for its very first National Championship in 1955 in rebuttal to the already-established World Series of Drag Racing in Lawrenceville, Illinois). It was this event, which featured every known type of vehicle from AA/Fuel Dragsters to Funny Cars to Jets to Wheelstanders and more, which led to Bob Metzler earning the nickname “Broadway” for his ability to present such an unprecedented extravaganza. In 1971, what was originally the Inter-State Championships on Labor Day became the Jet, Rocket and Wheelstander Championships, the first major event which actually crowned winners in vehicles which were, at any other track, subjected to exhibition-only status.

Both events were stretched to four and even five days of competition. Ironically, the Labor Day weekend event eventually included Top Fuel, Funny Car and Pro Stock classes even though the event conflicted with the NHRA U.S. Nationals only 250 miles away in Indianapolis, Indiana. Metzler’s lucrative cash guarantees for professional drivers often led to competitors competing at both events on Labor Day weekend!

In the 1970s and 1980s, Metzler was one of the few whose dragstrip operations survived major recessions with little change in event presentation. Great Lakes Dragaway often trumped the reputedly more important National Events of the established drag racing associations by offering dozens, (on some occasions, hundreds), of professional category entries at a single race for far less spectator admission costs. Even in the last decade of the twentieth century, Metzler was still presenting the Olympics and Labor Day events with three dozen Top Fuelers, fuel Funny Cars and Jets long after the market for those spectacles was presumed lost.

As the events of the 1960s exceeded “extravaganza” status, they became mind-boggling productions of massive financial risk. Yet, Metzler assumed that risk and gambled with Mother Nature while wearing a grin. Although Metzler did hold several sanctioned National Events in which the host association shared that risk, he more often placed a $250,000 wager of his own…and usually came out the winner.

On occasion, Metzler simply couldn’t restrain himself from creating legendary events from seemingly nothing. A classic example came in 1989 when he hosted the National Chrysler Convention, a specialty event for MoPar vehicles, which was originally scheduled to be a one-day affair. In a period of one month prior to the race, Metzler decided to add a pair of jet dragsters to the schedule. A few days later, he decided it should include six jets. He then added wheelstanders, nitro Funny Cars, match race stars Arnie Beswick and Ronnie Sox and, by the time the event arrived, a total of sixty-three guaranteed, (“booked-in”), professional machines were on the grounds for a two-day race. The original $9,000 budget ballooned to over $125,000 but, in typical Metzler fashion, he simply fired up his “promotional machine” and hit the road for two weeks spreading those flyers and posters. In the end, the event drew a huge crowd and actually showed a sizeable profit. However, even Metzler admitted he “got a bit carried away”.

While many recount only Metzler’s involvement with professional drivers and race cars, thousands more can offer testaments to his devotion the weekly sportsman racer. Metzler strived to present a decent purse for his regular customers. At one point, he created a “flexible” payout system which permitted the weekly racer to compete for as little as $100 to as much as $10,000 to win an event…each week! While racer greed made the format unfeasible, it was a magnificent concept. Metzler always made certain the track was available to anybody who needed it…for any reason with any vehicle. For more than two decades, Great Lakes Dragaway was open six nights per week during the season.

However, Metzler never restricted himself to drag racing vehicles to draw a crowd. Stunt drivers of all kinds, monster trucks, jet-powered robots and plenty of celebrity appearances made each event a “happening” rather than a race. When a new trend appeared, he made the most of it. The Great Lakes Dragaway facility hosted motocross races, mud drags and even off-road races in place of or in conjunction with the quarter-mile activities.

Likewise, Metzler’s eye for social trends played a huge role. In the 1960s, beach parties and acid rock bands were included in the events. In the 1970s, Van-Ins and more bands were added to the schedule. In the 1980s, the trees surrounding the fabled strip were covered with bizarre designs made by strands of flashing lights…and there were more bands. Music was always a part of the presentation. A bandstand was erected in the center of Metzler’s well-known “beer garden”, a small village of souvenir and concession stands which remained open until near sunrise after each day of racing. At Metzler’s insistence, the bands never stopped playing for forty years. He knew what his customers wanted and many simply wanted an excuse not to go home.

While Metzler operated the track during five decades of cultural change and revolution. most amazing of all may have been the transformation of Metzler himself. From his business-only appearance in the 1950s, he always changed with the times. By the end of the 1960s, Metzler could be seen at the track wearing the latest, (and constantly changing), fashions, hairstyles and any combination of outlandish jewelry. In the 1970s, he reflected the most trendy fashions of that decade and by the end of the 1980s, he had created his own fashion designed strictly by the imagination of “Broadway Bob”. Eventually, he became recognizable for an appearance unlike any other person on the planet if only because it, too, reflected his legendary status. He knew his customers expected a nearly mythical figure to match his reputation and, as always, he delivered.

Yet, through it all, Metzler remained loyal to those who offered their own loyalty. Of all his idiosyncrasies, the most unusual was his love of the fans. While Metzler always surrounded himself with extremely capable employees who loved the facility as much as he did and could easily run an event without him, Metzler enjoyed spending time in the grandstands seated next to his customers, discussing their likes and dislikes while sharing virtually any substance offered to him in friendship. He could be found in the track’s camping area simply “hanging out” with fans long after the end of the day’s competition or presiding over an impromptu contest, (of any type), in the Beer Garden just before dawn. It was just one of the reasons why “Broadway Bob” was always greeted by a standing ovation when he appeared in front of the main grandstands at any time during any event.

Metzler lived in a house on the Great Lakes Dragaway property directly across from the starting line with his wife, Mary and daughter, Patti. He was always available to talk even when the track was closed. Many times, fans who visited were shocked to find a relatively quiet and gentle man whose love for his family and friends was never hidden. Often, that discovery only increased his legendary stature.

Yes, there were moments which bordered on the unbelievable. He often rode the nose of a jet car while saluting the crowd with a can of beer…but it was always the sponsor’s brand of beer. Usually, the rides ended when the driver of the jet car was preparing to stage on the starting line but, on at least a few occasions, “Broadway” held on with one hand while the pilot pushed the dragster past forty miles per hour. He rode as a passenger in everything from Art Arfons 280 mph “Super Cyclops” jet dragster to Tyrone Malone’s 130 mph Kenworth…while it was RACING against a jet dragster. He notoriously staged a handicap match race between a jet dragster and a man on foot, (reputed to be Jon “Bowzer“ Bauman, the lead singer of the music group “Sha Na Na”), in which the jet dragster lost while passing its opponent at the finish line at 240 mph. Metzler often used local talent for exhibitions including, but not limited to, the “Wheelie Busters”, a pair of Milwaukee residents who rode a motorcycle in a 120 mph wheelstand while the passenger laid back to scrape his helmeted head on the asphalt the entire length of the track…for the price of two free tickets and all the beer they could drink. The stories are endless…and they’re all true.

That was “Broadway Bob”.

However, there were also moments which bordered on the magnificent. He was a man who would stop at nothing to succeed. He created a drag racing dynasty with nothing more than guts and instinct. He played a role in the careers of every drag racing superstar imaginable…and had an equal hand in the lives of those who never reached that level but still raced every week. He was inducted into multiple Halls of Fame yet could spend seven days alone at the annual Chicago Auto Show handing out flyers to 1.8 million people. He was a pioneer who shaped the face of a global sport. He was a genius.

Most of all, as he lay near death after all but one member of his family had passed before him, he was surrounded by and cared for by people who had met him only because of his creation of Great Lakes Dragaway. He was a legend…and he was loved.

That was Robert W. Metzler…and there will never be another one.