(Editor’s note —- This item ran about two years ago, and I was reminded of it last weekend at the 2011 Holley National Hot Rod Reunion as the track crew struggled to get the 330′ timing light to work on one side of the track. Those 330′ timing lights have a special place in my brain…read below to find out why!)

When you spend any length of time working at a drag strip you find out that your job title has absolutely no bearing on what you may actually be doing on a week-to-week basis. In my time working at New England Dragway, I’ve done everything from helping clean up trash to throwing the switch on the Christmas Tree. 

The track manager, Joe Lombardo, is a guy I consider a good friend and he really showed me a lot over the years, especially about the timing system. So much so that when we had an issue or problem during the day, he’d point at me and I’d go try to figure out the issue and solve it.

As it happened, on this particular day, we were not getting a reading out of the 330-foot timer in one of the lanes. The 330 cone is not one that a lot of the weekly bracket bashers pay loads of attention to, but it needed to be fixed, so off I went on the scooter to survey the issue. We determined that the Infra-red had gone bad and was not beaming a light to the reflector on that side of the track.

No sweat. Simply unplug the old one, remove it from the stand, grab a new one, install it, and line it up. These boxes are, of course, located just on the outside of the wall, and racing was not stopped while my repairs were made, so I was getting up close and personal with passing cars on the track.

Joe also imparted in me that you always had to be very aware of your surroundings at the track because it was a dangerous place. There were cars and people and loud noise everywhere and lots of potential for accidents if you weren’t careful. Needless to say, I was in a high risk position on the outside of the wall as the cars were going by so I kept one ear and eye on the track and one on my work.

I glanced up at one pair, and in the opposite lane from me sat a wild wheelstanding Maverick. This thing literally dragged the bumper on every run, and it was a blast to hype the crowd and have him deliver on my promises of altitude. I was slightly less enthused to be watching from where I was, though.

I heard the cars launch, then heard someone pedal the throttle, and pedal it again and again, and then some weird tire-type noises. I glanced up just in time to see a Maverick on the two driver-side wheels careening on a line right for me. I dropped my work and broke into a sprint up track from the car which amazingly seemed to turn on its own axis and shoot across the track, striking the wall head on across from me.

That was some scary stuff. The driver was all wound up, I was freaking out, and the emergency people were hauling the mail up track to assist the racer.

The car was repaired and continued to wow the crowds with wheelstands. I’ve been suspicious of Mavericks since then.  

Photo: www.actionracingphotos.com