Photographic MemoriesFriday, September 18, 2015

If it’s Friday, I must be in Charlotte, where the 2015 Countdown to the Championship kicks off, and this must be Part 2 of your bonus end-of-summer reading assignment (there won’t be a test). The column remains on a mini sabbatical thanks to my travel schedule, but all should return to normal next week.

Last week, I shared with you just some of the work I’ve done outside this column the last two years, all with a history/nostalgia theme that the Insider Nation loves. It started with a column on I called My Favorite Fuelers that focused on – surprise! – some of my all-time favorite fuel cars. Fifty-something columns of that exhausted my list, and I moved on the next year to a more wide-ranging column called Photographic Memories, for which I could call upon the vast National Dragster photo archives (and exhaustive research) to create some themed photo galleries, which you can find below. Enjoy.


Top Fuelers on Fire

Funny Cars on Fire

Parts & Pieces

I Can’t Believe That Just Happened ...

Getting 'Er Sideways

Keeping the Shiny Side Down

That's Gonna Leave a Mark ...

Top Fuel Wheelies

Funny Car Wheelies


In the Driver's Seat

In the Driver's Seat, Part 2

In The Driver's Seat, Part 3

Striking a Pose

Firesuit Fashions

Fast Females

Black History Week

Husbands and Wives

The Kids Are All Right



Front-Engine Top Fuelers

1970s Pro Stockers

Wacky Racers, Part 1

Wacky Racers, Part 2


Funny Car's One-Hit Wonders

Top Fuel's One-Hit Wonders

Straight Aeros, Part 1

Straight Aeros, Part 2

Altered States



Nighttime Is the Right Time

Line 'Em Up, Boys

The Name Game: Where Ya From?

The Name Game: Animal Kingdom

The Name Game: One-Word Wonders

Yeah, That's Pretty Funny

That Was Then …

Buster Couch

The Photographic Memories column continued after I turned it over to another staff member, and the focus became largely (but not exclusively) year/event-specific galleries focusing on a single race, with great stuff from the track, the pits, and all over. You can find the archive starting here.

OK, thanks for hanging in there the last two weeks. I'll be back to original Insider columns next Friday.

Just as I was wrapping up this column and getting ready to head to Charlotte, I received word of the passing of legendary wheelstander pilot Bill "Maverick" Golden, of Little Red Wagon fame. I'll have a complete write-up on him next week. For now, you can read the short obituary I posted here.

My Favorite FuelersFriday, September 11, 2015

With the travel to and from Indy consuming more than a week -- we leave on a Thursday and don't get back into the office until the following Wednesday -- I’m going to take two weeks off from the Teen Terrors series while I prepare the next installment, but that’s OK because there’s some neat reading that I’ve been meaning to share with you guys that will more than hold you over.

As some of you may remember when we launched the site, all of the really cool content was behind a paywall for NHRA members only. I wrote a second nostalgia-based column there for about two years. The first year, it was called My Favorite Fuelers, which took an in-depth look at the history of some of the sport’s really cool cars as well as groups of cars (by model, by location, etc.). The second year was a photo-based column called Photographic Memories, which took a look back at some great races with photos from the National Dragster event archives. 

Anyway, late last year, we took out a virtual sledgehammer and demolished the paywall, so all of that great content is now available for your reading enjoyment. I think you'll get a real kick out of the My Favorite Fuelers columns, which I have individually indexed below. (You'll notice that the formatting of the pages is off a little bit because they are legacy pages with a smaller photo width, and, obviously, the info therein is two-plus years old; please forgive.)

There, that should keep you busy until I'm back.


Early Dodge Charger Funny Cars

Mustang II Funny Cars

Monza Funny Cars

The Chi-Town Hustler

The War Eagle

Barracuda Funny Cars

Gary Ormsby's Castrol GTX Streamliner

The Pisano & Matsubara Funny Cars

Lew Arrington's Brutus Funny Car

'Diamond Dave' Miller's Shorty Top Fueler

The Pure Hell Fuel Altered

John Collins' Pioneer Stereo Datsun Funny Car

The Hot Wheels Wedge

The Budweiser King Funny Car

The California Charger Top Fueler

The Chicago Patrol Funny Car

Jim Dunn’s Rear-Engine Funny Car

Gary Beck's Export A Top Fueler

Don Schumacher's Wonder Wagon

The Hawaiian

The L.A. Hooker

The Blue Max Mustang II

Barry Setzer Vega

Gary Beck/Larry Minor Top Fueler



Candies & Hughes

Shirley Muldowney

Jerry Ruth

Tom McEwen

Gordie Bonin

Ed McCulloch

Billy Meyer

Don Schumacher

Jim Dunn




Nevada Nitro

Pennsylvania's Pros



Great Indy Top Fuel Finals

Indy's Top Fuel Heroes

Indy's Funny Car Heroes

Minnesota Fuelers

Oh Canada!

The Best of the Northwest

Colorado Fuelers

Ohio Fuelers

Chicago Fuelers

New England Fuelers

East Coast Fuelers




Teen Terrors of the '70s: John StewartFriday, September 04, 2015

John Stewart will forever be remembered by drag racing fans of the 1970s as the teenager who beat “Big Daddy” Don Garlits in his first ever side-by-side competition, but the kid from Sacramento, Calif., with the long hair and perpetually bare feet went on to become much more than just a driver in a career that has spanned five decades and continues today.

In one form or another, Stewart has been racing almost his entire life. He was racing go-karts before he was 10, became a Professional Top Fuel driver before he turned 18, and today keeps his hands busy and wrenches spinning as a crew chief, tuner, and adviser for multiple drag racing efforts. In addition to his current roles as crew chief on Bob Bode’s Funny Car on the NHRA Mello Yello Drag Racing Series, Dan Horan’s Nostalgia Funny Car in the NHRA Hot Rod Heritage Racing Series, and Urs Erbacher’s Top Fueler in FIA competition in Europe, Stewart is also part owner, with Aaron Brooks and the Lagana brothers, of another Funny Car and involved with both Lagana Top Fuelers, all of which have run in the NHRA “big show,” and also owns a sprint car, driven by Austin Prock, son of fellow nitro crew chief Jimmy Prock. He also runs a business specializing in clutch floaters and discs. So, yeah, he stays pretty busy.

Stewart got his first taste of competition in go-karts at age 8, and he eventually became good enough to land a factory sponsorship from Margay. When he was 15, he won the International Karting Federation’s 1970 grand enduro national championship, sealing it with a victory on the road course at, of all places, Indianapolis Raceway Park, home to NHRA’s U.S. Nationals. Oddly enough, Stewart had never even been to a drag race. Even though his karts were capable of reaching nearly 130 mph on the course’s main straight — the fabled dragstrip — a faster future awaited him.

Stewart’s uncle, LeRoy Lehman — the husband of his father’s sister — owned a Jr. Fueler and thought that his nephew might do well driving only on the straightaway. The day after he got his driver’s license, Stewart buckled into the cockpit of a carbureted front-engine econo dragster that Lehman had built for him. He quickly mastered the little 10-second car and stepped into the set of Lehman’s seven-second Jr. Fueler. Before long, that became old news, too.

Stewart, with his father, Bernie, center, and uncle LeRoy Lehman.

Seeing his nephew’s prowess, Lehman suggested they take their efforts to the next level and late in 1972 purchased Herm Petersen’s Woody Gilmore-built Top Fueler and accessories.

“I was all, ‘Yeah, that looks fun; let’s try it,’ ” recalls Stewart, whose father, Bernie, had grown up in Southern California and gone to school with Mickey Thompson and always loved racing. Bernie supplied the financial backing through his company, Sacramento Insulation Contractors, which did insulation installation for everything from commercial to home use in California, Arizona, and Nevada. And S.I.C. Racing was born.

With everything in place, they drove down to Southern California in early December to get the kid licensed and headed to Lions Dragstrip on what was most a memorable and sad occasion: It was the first weekend of December 1972, the weekend of Lions’ Last Drag Race, and although the kid licensed impressively with a 6.47 best, it was not without adventure.

“The worst part was the roller starters they used to have there at Lions,” Stewart remembers. “My uncle went through the whole program with me: Spin it over to build oil pressure, and once you get oil pressure, nod your head to let me know, then turn on the fuel and hit the [ignition] switch. The one thing he forgot to tell me was to push the clutch back in. The engine started and I was thinking ‘I’ve got this,’ but once the guy stopped the rollers, the car shot forward. My uncle had been holding the front wheels to keep the car steady — I think Larry Sutton was helping him — and they disappeared real quick when the car leaped off the rollers. He yelled at me until I reminded him he’d forgotten to tell me about the clutch.

“The biggest thing about driving the car was getting used to how fast everything happened. My uncle told me to go to 330 feet and shut it off. I stepped on the gas and lifted and was thinking I did a good job, and he gets down there and starts yelling at me again, ‘How far do you think you drove it?’ I told him that I didn’t know, that it was kind of dark. ‘You drove it to 950 feet!’ ”

Track manager Steve Evans, who oversaw the licensing procedure, was nonetheless impressed. “The kid is incredible,” he raved. “The car got out of shape once. He never cracked. He just pulled it out and got back into the accelerator.”

Stewart made his Pro debut in early 1973 at Irwindale Raceway, where he beat Don Garlits in his first head-to-head race.

Early the next January, Stewart, then still a 17-year-old junior at El Camino High School, calmly walked in to see his auto shop teacher one Thursday.

“I told him I was going to L.A. to drive a Top Fuel dragster and wouldn’t be at school the next day; he kind of laughed,” Stewart recalls with a laugh of his own. “When I came back Monday, he had the sports page taped up on the blackboard. From that point on, I was able to bring the car into the shop there and work on it. The other kids loved seeing it.”

What got his teacher’s attention — and the attention of everyone in the sport — was his performance at Irwindale Raceway’s Grand Premiere. Forty cars showed up looking for a spot in the 16-car field, and Stewart qualified solidly alongside veterans like Garlits, John Wiebe, Supernationals champ Don Moody, Dennis Baca, James Warren, Don Prudhomme, Danny Ongais, and Larry Dixon.

Garlits qualified No. 1 with a 6.37, Stewart No. 9 with a 6.52, and anyone who remembers ladder pairings back then knows that meant a first-round date, and when Garlits had to pedal halfway through his run, Stewart was right there to pounce, taking a shocking 6.45 to 6.54 upset victory.

“I totally underestimated the kid,” Garlits later admitted.

“It was the first time I’d ever been on the track with anyone else,” Stewart recalls. “It took a little while to sink in on how special that was, beating someone with Garlits’ history. I could have quit right then.”

But he didn’t. Not content with his Goliath slaying, Stewart moved on in eliminations but, before he could take on Ongais, he found that his safety belts wouldn’t latch. His uncle frantically got a replacement buckle and got it installed. Stewart remained cool throughout the ordeal and then defeated Ongais.

“Look at him,” Garlits went on to add. “He’s overcome a 20-minute problem with his seat belt, and he should be folding under the pressure, but he looks like he hasn’t a care in the world.”

“I had raced under a lot of pressure with go-karts,” Stewart told me earlier this week. “I’d have 70 guys in my class in karts and only one in drag racing, but I tried to never pay attention to who was in the other lane. But to this day, every time I see him, Garlits says ‘I hate you, kid.’ ”

Although Stewart lost on a 6.60 to 6.58 holeshot to Moody in the semifinals, the word was out, and a month later Stewart scored his first win, Feb. 25, at his Sacramento Raceway home track, qualifying No. 1 and beating Jim Herbert in the final. Herbert had beaten Garlits the round before, denying them a rematch.

With the attention also came scrutiny, but early on, Stewart got some good advice from fellow teen terror Jeb Allen.

“Me and Jeb were pretty good friends,” he said. “He told me the kind of things the other guys might say about us being kids. He just told me to be myself and don’t do anything stupid, and I’ll be fine.”

The team raced everywhere, including this memorable matchup at Orange County Int’l Raceway’s Big 4 Constructors race in May ’73, a team competition that pitted cars powered by Keith Black, Ed Pink, Sid Waterman, and a group of independents (who won). Stewart beat Ed McCulloch’s Funny Car in round one but couldn’t return for round two.

The team hit the road to take advantage of their newfound fame. Stewart, his uncle, and one of John’s high-school classmates (who was too young to drive) headed east at the wheel of a Ford truck supplied by a local dealer, sometimes caravanning with Gary Beck. It was another new experience for Stewart, who, because of his status with the factory, had always flown to his go-karts events but now found himself doing the bleary-eyed crawl across the country, with just he and his uncle splitting driving duties to hustle from race to race.

“It seems like we were running every other night somewhere,” he recalled. “We ran all over because that was how you made the money to get to the big races. We had a spare short-block, which was pretty big back then, an extra set of heads, and a few pistons. Those were the days, man. You didn’t leave your car at the track. You’d load it up and drive it to the hotel and work on it in the parking lot. You’d get up in the morning and wait for the maid to come down the hallway so you could steal some towels off her cart to take to the track.

“It was a lot of fun. I loved driving the car, but I didn’t really enjoy working on them at first. I just wanted to go hang out with my friends. It was like [to his uncle] ‘This is your car, you fix it, and when it’s ready, I’ll come drive it.’ I think that came from my go-kart years. All I had to do was show up and drive. But after a month or two, I got more into working on the dragster.”

And schoolwork still had its place alongside pitwork.

“I’d get all of my homework Thursdays and take off, then do my homework in the truck on the way to and from the races,” he explained. “The majority of the teachers were very supportive and helpful. I wasn’t a good student by any means, but I got by because if I didn’t keep my grades up, I didn’t get to race.”

Stewart joined the Keeling & Clayton team just before the 1973 World Finals in Amarillo, Texas, and drove its sleek California Charger, far lane, to round two before losing to eventual winner Jerry Ruth.
After joining the Cragar Five-Second Club during qualifying, Stewart was on his way to beating tire-smoking Gaines Markley in the semifinals of the Supernationals but couldn't hold off Markley at the big end. (Below) The race almost turned disastrous as Gaines crashed heavily and almost took out Stewart in the process.

The team had such a good season that they finished high enough in the Division 7 points to qualify to attend the World Finals, which then were held in Amarillo, Texas. But funds were low, and the team didn’t think they could go. It was at that point that Stewart really hit the big time. John Keeling and Jerry Clayton asked him to drive their stunning California Charger dragster at the event. Their driver, Rick Ramsey, had not earned enough points and also was preparing to transition into the team’s new Funny Car.

“That car was beautiful,” he marveled. “They had the Revell sponsorship. I got a percentage of models that they sold. I was hot stuff. I was 17, had moved to L.A., driving for this big team, making money. I even had a real uniform and firesuit.”

Stewart acquitted himself well, qualifying the car — tuned by Bill Schultz, also in his debut with the team — in the fifth spot among west region racers with a 6.37 and then beat strong-running Flip Schofield in round one before bowing out to eventual winner Jerry Ruth in the second frame.

Excited by their success, the team stayed together for the 1973 Supernationals a few weeks later at Ontario Motor Speedway in Southern California, where, on Nov. 16, Stewart became a member of the Cragar Five-Second Club with a 5.92.

Stewart’s run was good enough for the No. 2 spot, just a few ticks behind Garlits’ field-leading 5.90, and the two seemed on a collision course for the final. Stewart avenged his Finals loss to Ruth, then beat Norm Wilcox in the Skyjacker in round two and was leading tire-smoking Gaines Markley in the semifinals until the car began fading. Markley got back around him by inches, 6.54 to 6.56, but at a cost, as his freewheeling engine gave out, bombing the supercharger, which took out a rear tire and the wing and sent the car careening into Stewart’s lane. Stewart deftly took evasive action, driving through a minefield of scattered parts and, with no time to pull the parachute, ended up well around the oval course runout for the pit-road dragstrip. According to Clayton, they were inexplicably not allowed back in via the break rule, and Garlits singled for the win.

The team stayed together for one more race, the Cragar Five-Second Club event the following January at Irwindale. The field consisted of the eight club members — Stewart, Garlits, Moody, Ivo, Beck, Warren, Dixon, and Richins — with Mike Snively, who was without a ride at the time, taking the role of honorary starter. (Snively, who was slated to drive the Keeling & Clayton Funny Car, took his own life not long after.)

Stewart drove out of a big wheelstand in round one and still chased down Warren to get the win, then pulled up alongside Garlits in the semifinals. No one had forgotten what had happened there just a year earlier, but history did not repeat itself. Stewart cut a better light, but Garlits ran him down to win, 6.33 to 6.37.

(Above) The Cragar Five-Second Club, ready for battle at Irwindale Raceway in January 1974. Front row, from left, Tommy Ivo, Don Garlits, John Stewart, Larry Dixon Sr.; back row, from left, Don Moody, James Warren, Gary Beck, Mike Snively, and Dan Richins. (Below) A year after their initial meeting at Irwindale, Garlits got revenge on Stewart in the semifinals. (Steve Reyes photos)

A few weeks later, disaster struck Stewart at Sacramento Raceway’s season Grand Opener. Stewart, back behind the wheel of the family car for this weekend, defeated Ron Attebury in round one, 6.20 to 6.47, but his throttle stuck at the finish line.

“Back then, you practically had to put both feet on the dash to pull the fuel shutoff, and by the time I got it pulled back, I was at the end of the track,” he said. “There was a bump there, and the car just took off, and that was the last I remember until I woke up in the ambulance, which was going through the pits. I was thinking to myself, ‘Man, I’m dead. I’m in heaven,’ but the [ambulance attendant] told me I was all right. They told me the car cleared a six-foot chain-link fence and stuck nose-first into the grass. The car broke off at the footbox like it was supposed to, but in addition to cuts and bruises, I had a broken collarbone from where the seatbelts were.”

Stewart was eager to get back to racing, though his mother had seen enough.

“I had no worries,” he remembers. “When you’re young, you don’t think about that. My mom, on the other hand, was convinced that my uncle was trying to kill me. I had to tell her, ‘Mom, be quiet; I love it.’ ”

Stewart tried it on his own in 1974 but struggled financially. The car was lost in a top-end accident at the '75 Winternationals.

By this time, Keeling and Clayton were cutting back on their racing. Clayton was an in-demand airline jumbo jet pilot, and Keeling, an aircraft ground mechanic, got married. Even though Stewart had a great reputation and probably could have found another ride, he decided he’d stage his own comeback. He had local chassis whiz John Shoemaker build him a new car.

“I wanted my own car; it one of the dumbest things I ever did,” he admitted. “I just thought it was time. I was learning more about how the cars worked and wanting to tune it. I had some potential sponsors lined up, but nothing ever came of it. I tried to run the thing myself but didn’t have enough money to keep it going.”

The car ran sporadically that year and opened 1975 at the Winternationals. At the end of a qualifying pass, the parachutes failed to open.

“It started bouncing and hopping, and I tried to make the turn down there, but it started rolling over,” he recalls of the reported triple barrel roll. “I wasn’t hurt, and when I got out, I kicked the tire, and the parachutes fell out. Typical deal, right?

(Above) Stewart got his first win as a nitro crew chief with Tim Wilkerson, in 1999, in Chicago,. It was also Wilk's first Pro win. (Below) Stewart also tuned Jim Epler to a huge U.S. Nationals win in 2000.

“The car was hurt pretty bad, and by that time, I was married and had a kid. My wife told me I needed to figure out something else to do, so I quit racing. I started my own construction and insulation business with my sister. I still wanted to go back to racing but not as a driver. I was OK with that. We were pretty fortunate and did pretty good in the short time we ran.”

Stewart returned to the sport in 1979, working for fellow Sacramento resident Gary Ormsby, and started at the bottom. He spent a couple of years there, then went to work for Shirley Muldowney until she suffered her near-career-ending crash in Montreal in 1984. Before long, he found himself working for Connie Kalitta and soaking up knowledge from the team’s new tuner, Dick LaHaie.

“That’s where I really started to learn about how to run these cars,” he recalled. “Everyone would go home or go out for drinks, but I didn’t drink, so I’d sit there with LaHaie. What better guy to teach you? I didn’t even know how to turn on the computer. I just sat down there, paid attention, asked a lot of stupid questions, and otherwise kept my mouth shut.”

By 1998, after years of apprenticing under a number of tuners, Stewart’s first crew chief gig was for a fledgling nitro racer named Tim Wilkerson. After runner-ups in Pomona and Richmond, Va., they finally struck gold together at the 1999 Chicago event, where they beat John Force to earn Wilk his first Pro win.

Two years later, Stewart was part of Jerry Toliver’s two-car WWF entry, tuning the Kane Camaro, driven by Jim Epler, while Dale Armstrong tuned Toliver’s The Rock-branded entry. Toliver won the Winternationals and Gatornationals, and Stewart kept the smackdown coming when he tuned Epler to the win at the first Las Vegas event, but the best was still to come.

After a runner-up in Brainerd, Epler and Stewart were runner-ups Sunday at the Big Bud Shootout at Indy, then turned right around and won Monday’s Big Go. Two weeks later, the car burned to the ground at the Keystone Nationals.

In the years since, Stewart has been everywhere and anywhere. He has worked for Darrell Gwynn, Cruz Pedregon, Shelly Anderson, Dean Skuza, Bob Vandergriff, Don Prudhomme, and the Carrier Boyz before starting a seven-year stretch with Morgan Lucas Racing. Smith’s son, Josh, also later joined the team (and was best man at Lucas’ wedding) and stayed for four years before moving on and, at one time, drove his dad’s late-model car and the sprint car he co-owns with the Wingo brothers.

Even though he remains a well-known face among his peers in the pits on the NHRA Mello Yello Drag Racing Series, Stewart is much more recognized when he’s on the nostalgia tour, with people who grew up watching him race.

“It’s surprising how many people remember me,” he said. “When they hear the name they say, ‘Oh yeah, you’re that kid that beat Garlits.’ ”

A lot of kids are born into racing families and follow their fathers into the sport, but few can claim the quick start that launched Bobby Hilton into his career as a teenage Top Fuel driver in the early 1970s.

His dad, John, drove Top Gassers when Bobby was just a tyke growing up in Cincinnati, and when Dad graduated into a Chevy-powered Top Fueler in the late 1960s, Bobby was always there, wrench and dreams in hand.

“From the time I was 10 years old, racing was all I knew and all I wanted to do,” he remembers. “I didn’t play baseball or fool with bicycles like other kids my age; I just wanted to work on cars and go drag racing. I remember being at Indy with my dad when they still had roller starters in the pits. My dad would prop me up in the car with a pillow behind my back so that I could start the race car. By the time I was 15, I was bugging the hell out of him to let me drive the car; I wouldn’t leave him alone.

“We ran a lot of IHRA and UDRA stuff, but we’d make it to Columbus and Indy,” he added. “Seems like a lot of guys around here were fooling around with the Chevys – [Jim] Bucher was from right there in Cincinnati, Powell & Burnett from South Carolina – because that was the affordable thing to do. It was all iron-motor stuff: truck blocks with stock cranks, steel heads, and stock oil pans. You could put one together for a fraction of the cost of other engines, and they ran well.”

By the time he was 16, Hilton probably knew more about racing than most kids could ever hope to. Clayton Harris had taken the ambitious youngster, then just 13, under his wing and on tour with his Top Fuel team for three seasons in the early 1970s – during the heyday of the national-record-setting Jack McKay New Dimension car -- and showed him the ropes and a taste of winning, just as Steve Carbone had done with Jeb Allen before he started driving.

He quickly became accepted by the nitro fraternity as a kid brother. California racers like Allen, Gary Ritter, Don Durbin, and Frank Bradley all stayed at the Hilton family home in Cincinnati during their Midwest match race forays.

The first race car that Hilton ever drove down the quarter-mile was his dad’s Top Fueler, which by then was sporting a Rodeck powerplant. He was 16 and didn’t yet even have his street driver’s license, but they got officials to look the other way at a late 1973 IHRA race in Miami so that he could get his competition license.

“They were clutch cars back then; you had to clean the engine out, bring the motor up and drag it into the beams, then sidestep the clutch and go,” he said. “I fell into it pretty good; it took me several runs to get it down the track, but we went pretty quick.

“I’d read about guys like Jeb Allen and John Stewart, but they were all West Coast guys, and Billy Meyer was from Texas. I was pretty much the only teenager driving a fuel car from around here. We were doing real well locally because a lot of the tracks wanted to book us because of my age.”

And yet, even while he was learning the racing ropes, his other education – the one most kids are focused on – never got neglected, thanks to his parents, who insisted that he graduate from high school, which meant long Sunday-night drives back to Cincinnati regardless of where the weekend’s racing had been.

“Getting me to school was my mom’s mission in life,” he recalled with a laugh. “Graduating from high school was her goal, race cars be damned. She’d deliver me – I was going to a vocational school – and I’d hang out as long as I could, then go right back to racing. I used to hate Sunday nights because everyone else was heading to the next drag race, and I had to go home.”

Young Bobby Hilton, sporting dual casts, made the local paper after his crash.

And while all of his high school peers were strutting their stuff on the streets with big-block Chevelles or what have you, thinking they were badasses, Hilton never let on about his ride. “I just giggled to myself whenever they started bragging about their cars,” he recalled. “I wasn’t into hot rods like the other kids; I was into race cars!”

The good times ended abruptly in August 1974, at Rockingham Dragway in North Carolina. A valve hung open in the engine, which grenaded the blower and cut a rear tire at more than 230 mph. The cost was devastating to the team: one destroyed race car and, in those days before arm restraints, two broken arms for young Bobby.

“It was really my dad’s worst nightmare,” he remembers. “Billy Stebbins had built us a great race car, and the cage held up great – it was all that was really left of the car -- but my arms got outside of the cockpit and got beat up pretty bad.”

Hilton spent weeks in the hospital in Rockingham undergoing multiple operations and nine months in matching casts, the healing slowed because, unfazed by it all, he couldn’t wait to get back to racing, helping put together a replacement car from Don Long. “I really put my parents through hell,” he said.

But even before they could get the new car on the track, Alan Starr, owner of the popular North Carolina-based Starrliner Top Fueler, at the suggestion of Harris, called John and Peggy Hilton to ask if their son could drive his race car. By the time that Hilton was ready for action, it was already 1977, and he was no longer a teenager, but his best years still lay ahead.

“We were kids, and we were racing every weekend,” he marveled. “It’s nothing like it is today. It was a duallie, one spare motor, and a CB radio. You made your phone calls at the end of the day from a phone booth.

 1 of 4 
Hilton collection
After his crash, Hilton drove other cars, including Alan Starr's Starrliner ...

“Alan Starr was just the greatest guy,” he recalls fondly. “Just a good ol’ Southern Top Fuel racer; ‘Drive it like you stole it; don’t worry about it, man.’ It was really cool. We’d run match races at tracks that I couldn’t pronounce and had no idea where they were, just alongside a mountain somewhere. The first time I drove his car was at a match race against Clayton Harris, in the dark, in Gulfport, Miss. ‘Just go out there and drive it, man,’ he told me. I learned a lot pretty quick.”

Even John Force will tell you that learning how to drive on crappy racetracks teaches you more than any other experience, and he also had time to get behind the wheel of other cars, including the Golddigger of Bill Thornberry and Tom Seigle, the Hot Tuna of Tommy Olds, and even his dad’s car in 1978.

And it was in his dad’s car, during a great month at the Winter Series events in Florida in late 1978 where they set low e.t. at every event, that his life would change, because it’s there that his skills got the attention of veteran Top Fuel owners Jim and Alison Lee.

“By that time, I had learned a lot about fuel systems and how to make the cars run, and we just hauled ass with this car that didn’t even have any lettering on it. Along the way, I ended up beating Jim and Alison’s car two or three times.”

It just so happened that the Lees’ driver, Dale Thierer, was getting married and looking to park his career for a time, so they offered the saddle to Hilton.

Hilton, right, with Jim and Alison Lee
Their unique wedge-shaped dragster carried them to a number of victories, including a pair of IHRA national event wins.
Hilton married the Lees' daughter, Diane, in September 1982.
(Above) Hilton drove the Custom Body Enterprises Dodge Omni Funny Car in the 1981 and 1982 seasons and later drove Ronnie Capps' Top Fueler (below) in Australia, his final ride in a fuel car.

“It was definitely a fork in the road for me, and I know I took the right one,” said Hilton, who moved into a room on the Lees’ farm in The Plains, Va., and fell in love with – and, a few years later, married -- the Lees’ daughter, Diane. (Yes, that’s right; he married the proverbial farmer’s daughter.)

The Lees, who had always had their cars built by Stebbins or Long, instead commissioned Lestor Guillory to build them a trick car, complete with side pods and outward and upward tilted body panels that made it wedge-like in design.

“That car was eons ahead of its time,” he said. “I’m not sure why they did that because they usually were pretty conservative with their race cars. It ran well, but it was too heavy, and the side pods had to come off between every run so we could work on the car, so eventually we took them off."

The team had a great two-year run, winning the 1979 NHRA Division 2 Top Fuel crown and divisional events in Gainesville and Reading, scoring breakthrough victories at the 1979 IHRA Pro Am Nationals and 1980 Winston Spring Finals, and runner-upping at the 1979 Dixie Nationals.

“It’s funny because Jim and Alison liked to drive home from the races Sunday night, and I was already used to that kind of schedule,” he said. “Jim had to be home to mow the grass and feed the cows, so Alison and I would work on the car together."

Much to his disappointment, the Lees let Hilton go during the winter prior to the 1981 season. ‘’I felt like we were right on the verge of winning an NHRA national event, but they told me they wanted to go in a different direction with a new driver,” he recalled. They replaced him with Butch Osmon, who carried them to their first (and only) NHRA national event final later that year at the Springnationals.

“Things were changing quickly on the technology side – high-volume fuel systems and Crowerglide clutches and all that -- and Jim just wasn’t grasping it. I was hanging out with the Funny Car guys like Ronnie Swearingen and Billy Meyer, and they were teaching me about how to run the cars. [Jim] Duffy from Billy’s team came over and put one of those high-volume systems on our car, and it really hauled the freight, but Jimmy took it back off after a few runs. Jim was still stuck on the old rev ‘em up as high as you can and let off the clutch. He wanted it lean and mean.”

And certainly, Hilton owns his part in the rift.

“I was still just a wild-ass kid, and Jimmy was a very conservative guy: ‘That jack stand goes in that spot; that’s where it’s been going for 10 years, and that’s where I want it.’ And I was all about change and having a good time and partying a little bit. I don’t think that he liked that,” he said. “If I have any regret about those days, it’s that I wish I would have been a little more mature. I passed up a lot of opportunities because I was hardheaded. Anyway, they left for Gainesville [in 1981], and I came over with my ’66 Olds convertible and a U-Haul trailer and dragged my stuff – and Diane – back to Cincinnati. Jim didn’t talk to me for two years.”

Bobby and Diane married the following September and are still together and the parents of a new generation of racer in their son, Tyler, who’s competing on the nostalgia circuit. Any rift with Jim healed a long time ago, and Alison, as she always was, is the spark plug of the new operation. (More on that later.)

After losing his ride with the Lees, Hilton was convinced that he could make it on his own – “Because I was so damned smart and everyone else was so dumb,” he says, in self-mocking retrospect -- and teamed up later in 1981 to run the Hot Tuna Top Fueler, with help on the side from one of his young peers, Allen, whom he had met while still wrenching for Harris and grew closer to in the years when Allen raced on the IHRA circuit. The car ran well, but the cost of racing was escalating so quickly that they couldn’t keep up.

“Jeb was a great friend to me – he’d do anything for you, give you any part in his trailer -- and we did a lot together; he kept me racing,” said Hilton. “Gary Burgin had helped get me a job driving the Custom Body Funny Car for a year with Ronnie tuning it. It was one of the coolest things I ever did in my life, but, again, my head got in the way, and I left to go race with Jeb and [wife] Cindy. It was cool because they had a baby and baby carriages and cats in the truck, and we just got in the truck and went on tour. We had a big time. We dragged that whole truck and trailer all the way through Yellowstone Park on the way to Brainerd from Seattle. I can remember going to Epping with them and eating lobster and hanging out on the beach. Those are the kind of days we had. ”

Hilton’s last driving job came in a six-week tour of Australia wheeling a Top Fueler for Ronnie Capps in the winter of 1982, just months after he and Diane were married. He returned Stateside, worked on some cars at the Winternationals, then went home. He didn’t stay there long. Allen had stopping driving after the 1982 season, but the two pals got a job together building a Tempo-bodied Funny Car for Bill “Capt. Crazy” Dunlap and his driver, Gary Southern, for the 1984 season.

“It was the most insane thing I’ve ever been involved with,” he said, still a bit in awe. “He had like seven engines for that thing, race cars, tractor trailers, everything. Jeb and I just stood there looking at it all, going ‘Wow …’ We were used to having one motor and maybe a spare short block. He had a second car, and Jeb tried to talk Dunlap into letting me drive it – he offered instead to let me drive his drag boat, which I didn’t want any part of. We tried like hell to make it all work, but that deal didn’t last all that long, and one day, I just got on an airplane and went home. We were toast -- burned toast -- just worn out from years of racing, and being around the whole Dunlap deal really spelled out the future of racing: You had to have a pile of parts to do it anymore, and I didn’t have that.”

Although at age 27 he was done with driving high-horsepower cars, he wasn’t done with racing or horses. Surprisingly, he found himself charged with building a world-class steeplechase horse-racing track in The Plains for a friend of the Lees'. “I didn’t know anything about how to do it, but he told me we’d learn along the way,” he remembers, “and every bit of that drag racing experience and being around adults and growing up so fast all paid off.” The track, Great Meadow, is still in business, and Hilton is its superintendent.

The Lees flanked Tyler and Bobby Hilton as they entered the next part of their shared racing story, with Tyler, 25, driving the Great Expectations III nostalgia dragster.

Tyler, born in 1990, also developed a love for mechanical things, and his love of conventional hot rods convinced his dad to found a shop, Hilton’s Hot Rods, which has won numerous awards for its creations, including last year’s Goodguys Hot Rod of the Year award (Tony Lombardi’s supercharged '30 Model A Ford), and recently was featured in The Rodder’s Journal. They also have a good following on Instagram (@hiltonhotrods).

Tyler also decided he’d like to try drag racing and attended Frank Hawley's Drag Racing School last November – Hilton had match raced a lot against Hawley and the Chi-Town Hustler while driving the Custom Body car – and earned his Advanced E.T. license. Hilton had J. Ed Horton build them a front-engine dragster to run in NDRL’s 7.0 Pro class. Grandma Alison is heavily involved in the car, which carries the paint scheme made famous on the Lees’ Great Expectations dragsters and carries the name Great Expectations III.

Like his dad's, Tyler’s first car was powered by a nitro-burning Chevy engine, and, like his dad, he was a fast learner. “He was a natural,” said the proud father. “His first full pass was a 6.85. I can just look at him and know he knows how to drive a race car. I want to get him some seat time in a blown nitro car before we look at moving up to Top Fuel and running the [NHRA Hot Rod] Heritage [Racing] Series. We’ll be making some runs next week at Epping [at the New England Hot Rod Reunion presented by AAA Insurance] to finish his license.

“I’m just so happy to still be involved in the sport – I never thought I would be – and to do it with Alison and my son. It’s very cool. Diane said the other day, ‘We lived our whole lives before we were 20 years old; we grew up too quick,’ so it’s good to do this again. They say it all comes full circle. My dad was watching me and worrying about me driving his car, and surely, seeing Tyler drive worries me to death sometimes, but it’s working out real well. It’s going to be awesome the next couple of years.”

Next week: John Stewart

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