Quest for the Holy Rail
by
Bill Pitts
Written January 2004
It’s 5:45 a.m., in “Bubikon”, a small
town just minutes from the city of Zurich, Switzerland. I
am about to embark on an improbable journey: To once again
stand before an old “fueler” I hadn’t
seen since 1966. A “digger” dripping with
history and big names from drag racing’s golden age
when 64-car “top eliminator” fields were not a
dream, but a reality!
6:00 a.m.
“Agrola”, the gas station sign read. “A
whatta?,” I thought as common sense whispered in my
ear: “What are you, Nuts?!” Of course, the
answer was “yes”. And as I was about to pull
the plug on this silly escapade, I looked at the car
gassing up at the “Agrola” gas station. It was
a well maintained, 1962 white four-door Chevrolet Impala.
It promptly fired up, filling the air with that familiar
Detroit tone, and pulled out onto the dimly lit cobble
stone road.
Yeah, I was doing the right thing!
So at that point, common sense flew away and
“Pitsy” (that’s me) was about to begin a
very special adventure.
6:30 a.m.
As I sat among the native Swiss on the gently swaying train
to Zurich, I couldn’t help but think of my wife and
children, staying with long time Swiss friends for the day.
Though such an adventure would be no big deal in the
“States”, it seemed more disconcerting on the
other side of the world. Yet, this journey seemed
“do-able” and became undeniable to my family as
a way of fulfilling a life long quest.
“So what’s the big deal?,” you might ask.
Just swing by this museum on your way to Venice. Well, you
could, but Turin, Italy, is not on your average
tourist’s wish list of places to visit while
vacationing in Europe.
Would it be worth the jaunt? I was soon to find out for
myself.
6:45 a.m.
Our train is now pulling into the main train station in
Zurich. From here, it’s a three hour and thirty
minute ride to Milan, Italy, then two more hours to Turin.
The train I board might as well be a plane. All “prim
and proper.” Immaculate is the overriding word to use
when describing most of Switzerland. (Germany and Austria,
for that matter). I love this area of the world and wish I
could stay longer.
7:15 a.m.
The train departs on time and I’m definitely
committed. The cost of this irrational jaunt is $250. Not a
paltry sum for my family, but my wife, Deborah has seen my
irrational moves bare fruit in the past, so she gave me a
knowing smile and sent me on my way. She understands. The
license plate frame on her car reads, “Don’t
Die Wondering!”
Don’t worry, now I won’t! :)
Languages used on this train to Milan are a combination of
German and Italian with a little English popping up at the
end of the canned speech on the loud speaker.
As the countryside flies by, generated by a “rail
job” from the past, I start reflecting on the Kent
Fuller dragster that draws me to Turin......
The
year is 1964. “Weedburner” headers give way to
“Zoomies” and the lengthening of dragster
frames is in full swing. The “Surfers” are
working with a 98 percent load of nitromethane and Kent
Fuller is the premier dragster builder in the country.
It’s right about this time that Roland Leong, pilots
his brand new Kent Fuller built, full
bodied,“Hawaiian” dragster right off the end of
“Lion’s” Drag Strip in Long Beach,
California. Roland’s driving days end with this crash
and the “rail” is in need of repair. The short
(118 inch wheelbase) dragster is “front halved”
by Fuller. A term used to describe cutting the damaged
front half of the car off at the motor plate and starting
over. Once again, more Leong family money brings out the
very best for this second incarnation. The wheelbase is now
a more standard 136 inches. To say the
“Hawaiian” closely resembles the famed Greer,
Black and Prudhomme “Double ‘A’ Fuel
Dragster” is an understatement. The Keith Black
nameplate sat proudly atop the “Chrysler” valve
covers that powered this piece to big wins at both the
“Winternationals” in Pomona, California and the
“U.S. Nationals” in Indianapolis, Indiana in
1965. At that time, the two biggest drag races of the
National Hot Rod Association. Then in 1966, they do it
again! The “Winternationals” and
“Indy”. This time with a different driver.
Those facts proudly recorded on the cowl of the beautiful
full bodied rail. Ocean blue “boat flake” and
real wooden side panels on the “chute tail”
gave this visual wonder the proper trappings to compliment
the bamboo lettering on the nose which proudly named
Leong’s birthplace. And to add bite to this potent
package, Roland hired Don “The Snake” Prudhomme
to pilot his flagship. The combination of car, driver and
even push car was stunning in the sunlight and even though
the “Snake” would go it alone in 1966, another
driver with a proven reputation was acquired.
Mike Snively / Pitts Photo
Mike Snively, whose performance on both days of the 1965
“Smoker’s Meet” in Bakersfield, was part
of the Ed Pink “Old Master” combination that
received the “Outstanding Performance” award
for the meet. “Snive” donned a matching blue
metal flake helmet with “Mike” on the visor,
which only served to improve on the vision that moved
through the pits. And despite going down in
“Pitsy” style points by expertly slipping the
clutch at the 1966 “Smoker’s” Meet in
Bakersfield, the performance combination qualified 4th, in
the 64 car Saturday field.
Then, in May of 1966, Leong and Snively were headed for a
meet in Amarillo, Texas, when tragedy struck. It’s in
the dead of night, near Amboy, California. The
“Hawiian” was being towed in an enclosed
trailer (lettered with the word, “Hawaiian”),
by a family station wagon (as was the usual method).
Snively was driving, Danny Broussard was “riding
shotgun”, and Leong was asleep in the back. A
‘57 Chevy towing a ‘57 Chevy race car was
passing on a two lane bridge. The driver of the Chevy
looked to read the word “Hawaiian” on the side
of the trailer and side swiped the bridge then cut Snively
off. Leong’s station wagon wound up on its roof and
the enclosed trailer broke loose, bouncing clear out of
sight for quite some distance. It traveled so far that
those in attendence couldn’t find the trailer until
day break. A spare motor and related equipment, bouncing in
the trailer “did a number” to the rail. So,
once again, the miasto (Fuller) must work magic. And the
aging champion is lengthened, yet again, to a very
respectible 155 inches. Tom Hanna, one of drag racings
greatest body builders is commissioned to repair the
damaged body. A two piece steering link is also added.
Fuller’s payment for repairs was the rolled station
wagon. Which he fixed and used as his daily driver.
Roland Leong (blue jacket) and Mike Snively (Red
Jacket)
Pitts Photo
The train window peers out on large lakes as we head south
toward Milan. There’s nothing to alarm me so far, a
foreigner far from home.
I am fully equipped for anything the museum cares to give
me: Good digital and SLR cameras and a digital video camera
should do the trick. The only true nightmare will be a sign
that reads “NO PHOTOS OR VIDEO.” A trip to the
gift shop and the purchase of a standard photo may be all
that I can get. Believe me, it could happen!!
So what else is it about
this one car that pulls me south of my Swiss accomodations?
Well, I guess it’s the fact that the
“Hawaiian” just up and disappeared so long ago
and I want to find out the reason. You see, most fuelers
back then went “through the ringer” as
performance and design standards changed. Even the famed
Greer, Black and Prudhomme dragster had a “down
time” that was hard for it and most other front motor
dragsters to live through. More often than not, the cars
were lengthened in an attempt to maintain some kind of
competitive edge. If the car had a nose piece, a new one
had to be made or more often than not the nose was just set
aside. Other “add ons” forced many an owner to
buy a whole new car and then pull components from the old
one, leaving an old fueler with no guts and no home except
the dumpster behind the shop. Then the “safer”
rear engine dragsters took over, further hastening their
demise.
The Winkel, Trapp, Fuller “Magicar” just prior
to it’s restoration.
Poole Photo
On occasion, however, one
would slip through the “time warp”, INTACT! And
the “Hawaiian” was one of the few.
The last big win for this beautiful champion was in 1967 at
the famed “Smoker’s Meet” in Bakersfield,
California. Once again the aging piece fought through a 32
car field of much younger competitors, to win the
“top eliminator” prize. It was the only Fuller
built car in the field!
Shortly thereafter, Roland Leong received a long distance
phone call from Italy. It was an “Italian guy”
that contacted him and said he wanted to buy the
“Hawaiian”. The man wanted the
“Hawaiian” for a “European Show Car
Circuit”. Leong wanted to fix the car up from damage
it had sustained over the year of racing. A blower belt had
come off and damaged the body. But the “Italian
guy” didn’t want that. He wanted it just as it
was: Damage and all, in as close to working order as Leong
could provide. And so, a deal was struck and the car went
to the other side of the world...“As is”.
We’re moving through the Italian Alps, now. The
scorching tropical heat wave that is killing many elderly
in Europe subsides high in these mountain passes as train
windows are momentarily closed.
It’s going by too smoothly. Yeah, I drove to the
“Baanhof” (train station) the day before to
make sure I didn’t get lost in the dark and even
asked my English- speaking Swiss friend to show me how to
use the parking meter at the train station (so my rental
car would still be there when I returned at about
midnight). But, now comes the unknown and the true
adventure begins.....
10:00 a.m.
We’ve passed through the beautiful lakeside city of
Lugano, and it is here that the very serious
“politez” look at your passport and give you
the visual once over. If all is well, they move on.
So what was the special appeal the “Hawaiian”
possessed that for a time eluded even our own museums and
race car collectors in the “States”? Who was
the “Italian guy”, who saw the lasting beauty
and value in this American piece? I’m hoping to
gather some of that information as well when I walk in to
the Museo Dell’ Automobile at around 1:30 p.m.
Obviously, my window of opportunity in Turin will be brief,
since my return train leaves for Milan again at 5:04 p.m.
I’ll have to hit the ground running!
Milan, Italy
Back to reality. At 10:45 a.m., I arrive at the Milan train
station. The humidity has turned up a notch and to make
matters worse, I get on the wrong train!! I walked the long
isle to a car that wasn’t very occupied, thinking I
could find my way to my reserved seat. Fortunately, I have
learned,”When in doubt, ask!” A nice-looking
lady in her 30s who spoke English promptly told me to go to
the train that was two gates down, and leaving 5 minutes
sooner!! I had to do the (pardon the expression) O.J.
high-hurdle maneuver and reached my assigned seat just in
time. Whew!! Next stop, Turin.
Pulling out of Milan for the final push, I can see the city
is pretty bleak around the train station. Ten story
apartment houses and industrial buildings were all I could
see from my vantage point. Obviously, there are nicer areas
but upon seeing this, I wondered if Turin would be more of
the same.
11:33 a.m.
Bad news. The museum is farther away from the Turin train
station than I thought. A man sitting across from me who
spoke NO English is shown the name and address of the
museum and he then writes down 20 to 30 minutes by taxi.
This could get tense! I have no idea how much the taxi will
be and only 80 “Euro” to cover everything.
Perhaps not enough for the return taxi ride. So now
I’ve got to get more money, but taking the time to do
that at or near the train station may slow my arrival time
down and shorten what little time I have. The plot
thickens!
11:44 a.m.
The countryside is now open, flat, and green, and my hopes
of a smooth experience are now giving way to real concern.
I’ve GOT to get there and take those pictures!!
I’ve decided to take the taxi and then take my
chances from there. If I miss my train, then I’ll
just have to change things around somehow. Not the best
situation when you have to leave for the U.S. in two days.
More Euro’s is the answer! Money always is.
12:11 p.m.
What do I say when I arrive? If I don’t say it right,
I may not get what I came for. And, of course, I have to
hope that someone in charge can speak English. What’s
it gonna take? What’s the magical combination? Will I
find the right words?
1220 p.m.
As my train moves toward Turin, I can see why not many
consider the ride of interest. Huge flat farmlands of corn
and not much activity in the buildings we pass. For a short
time, I see a town that looked quite pleasant though not in
today’s heat and humidity.
1234 p.m.
We’ve now reached the outskirts of Turin, which is
predominately interspurced with heavy factories and two,
three, and four story apartments. The immediate countryside
is flat as a pancake.
Pulling into theTurin train station
12:55 p.m.
The train pulls up, brakes howling, to the Turin train
station. I step off with my small suitcase rolling behind
me. In it, the two high-tech cameras and one tried-and-true
film camera that will hopefully capture this racing
“blue fin” and bring it to the boat,
so-to-speak.
First step: To look for an information booth. A small Kiosk
with the “i” symbol on it. I walk briskly
toward the main part of the train station and what do I
find, but an information booth right in front of me. I
explain to the young lady where I want to go, she whips out
a FREE map and shows me exactly where to find the museum.
She then tells me which bus to take to get there. I then
explain that I’d like to take a taxi and ask her how
much she thinks it will be. “Oh, about 10
Euro.” BITCHIN’! I GOT IT!! She then points me
to the taxi area and away I go, feeling much better about
being able to pay for the round-trip by taxi! And as I look
back, about 40 touring students descend on the poor
information booth lady. Guess I must be quicker than I
thought!
A nice gentleman picks me and my suitcase up in his
“seen better days” taxi, and off we go into the
streets of downtown Turin.
As we drive along the main roadway in town, I see an aging
city--once beautiful and bustling, but now in need of a
“face lift.” Kind of like my home town of San
Diego, California. At one time downtown San Diego was full
of flop houses and street walkers until the Downtown
Redevelopment Plan began. Then slowly, over time, downtown
San Diego was turned into a very “cosmopolitan”
area. The same looks like it could be said for Turin. All
the old girl needs is a “facelift” and
viola’ you’d have a very cool
“cosmo” city. But, for now, she gets by in less
than perfect form, just waiting for her “city
fathers” to take control once again.
As each block passes, I’m getting really
“antsy.” This stuff turns me in to the young
teenager that I once was when I first saw the beauty that
existed in the “top eliminator” ranks during
the ‘60s. What will this place look like? Old and run
down or really cool? Will it even be open?
At long last we pull up to a “really cool”
building on the right...and, sure enough, I MADE IT!!! I
get my suit case and begin, by paying off the taxi driver.
He says, “Eight Euro” por favori”. I give
him a ten and shake his hand. He smiles and bids me
goodbye.
The “museo” has what I would call a
“mod” look to it. I fully expect Austin Powers
to come driving out of the front entrance in a Jag with a
British flag paintjob. Very cool! You can tell a lot of
money went into this building at one time. A true source of
pride for the people of Turin.
I wheel my suitcase up the ramp and into a central patio
just in front of the main entrance. This garden area is
surrounded by glass wings of the building that have vintage
cars displayed for all to see. I then proceed to the main
turnstyle entrance doors and go up to the ticket window. A
young man who speaks no English takes my money and I enter
as anyone else would.
Now I begin my hasty walk to find the
“Hawaiian.” I start in the right side first
floor wing of the museum where I find mostly motorbikes and
a few classic European cars.
No luck. But there are three levels to this place and I
will cover every inch until I find her.
I make a circle in the right wing and make my way back to
the start and then proceed to the left side first floor
wing.
She catches me by surprise....
Just sitting there at the mouth of the first floor left
wing. No one else could know the personal significance of
that moment. Another Fuller timepiece within my reach.
“O.K. Cool it! Let’s get to work.”
The first electron marvel I pulled out was my Cannon S-400
digital still camera. I would start at the plaque on the
wall, which was, of course, entirely in Italian. After
shooting the plaque I settled down somewhat and took a
moment to survey my prize. She wasn’t pretty, as in
all buffed out. But she was PERFECT...
Perfectly untouched since she was delivered to the museum
in 1969.
Quick observation:
I’d always had a hard time with what Pat Foster, one
of drag racing’s GREATS, called the
“Patina’ed look.” He said he admired that
look in the Winkel, Trapp, Fuller
“Magicar”...the car I own. But here sat the
“Hawaiian” and she was looking pretty
“Patina’ed” herself. It didn’t look
like a polishing rag had rubbed up against her chrome and
“magnesium” finish since the ‘60s and yet
here she was on display with some of automotive
racing’s finest, although most of the big name cars
(in their opinion) were above us on the second and third
floors. Yet, here she sat on the first floor. “A
diamond in the rough”.
And so, with the retaining rope in place, I begin my
“full coverage” photo shoot. And let me add the
word “amateur” at this time. I know what I like
to see, but I, in no way, pretend to know how to shoot like
the “pro’s”.
However, since there wasn’t a “pro” in
sight, here’s some of my stuff.
My amateur shoot was hampered by two things. For starters,
I had to shoot the car in place. I tried to get up the
courage to ask to have the car moved outside, but that
proved rather difficult due to the fact that someone long
ago, had “hobbled” her. Locking the steering
link in a straight ahead position.
Also, about five minutes in to my “shoot”,
there was a black out in the museum wing that I was working
in so I had to shoot in very dim conditions. The other wing
was fine. Figure that one out.
But I covered the old girl “from stem to
stern,” thankfully with the approval of the museum's
highest-ranking authority who could speak English. A Ms.
Donatella Biffignandi. Ms. Biffignandi was very kind to
allow me to shot the “Hawaiian” on BOTH sides
of the retaining rope, considering I came in
“cold” with no professional credentials of any
kind. I think I was very lucky to be permitted to get
“up close and personal” with this wonderful
piece of drag art.
My thanks to this very
fine lady.
Ms. Biffignandi explained that the “Hawaiian”
was donated to the museum in 1969 by the Fiat Motor
Company. There had been a very special automotive
exposition in Milano in 1968 and the “Hawaiian”
was on display at that expo, afterwhich Fiat donated the
car to the museum. Unfortunately, because the
“Hawaiian” was donated to the museum, they will
NEVER part with it, so the ONLY hope we have of seeing it
in the “States” is to arrange an exchange or
have it placed on loan to a reputable museum stateside.
After a short talk with Ms. Biffignandi, I proceed to
finish up on the photos and video shoot. Funny, but with
the lights out and my handy Sony digital video camera
spotlight on, I couldn’t help but flash on the first
time we saw close-up video of the “Titanic”.
That’s the same feeling I got as I tried to closely
shoot every aspect of the car. It should make for some
surrealistic viewing. At least that’s my way of
looking at it in a positive light.
9:00 p.m.
Well, I’m safely on the train back to Zurich with a
wonderfully smooth transition from train to train. And so,
in a nutshell, I’m home free. I’m tired, but
oh-so-satisfied with this truly extraordinary day. And I
have to thank all those who put on the incredible show that
was American Drag Racing in the ‘60s.
“It” is what powered me to Turin and back.
You can make that trip too!!
Ciao, from Europe.
I mean...
