Tell us what Indy means to you

What does Indy mean to me? Not much any more i’m afraid. I used to love the entire month of May and the build up. The daily track reports and the run up to pole day and bump day really meant something. It was the worlds greatest race. Unfortunately Tony George had to listen to Bill France and AJ and create the irl so what once was a great race has been reduced to number 3. All my passion that i once had for Indy is now devoted to the 24 Heures du Mans, now the number 1 race in the world for many years. I am not a “Place Fan” like most of the irl fans are. They are very arrogant and typically get very offended when someone puts down Indy. Mike Condre and John Howard , Turn 13 and Disciple /Defender at Track Forum are 2 such types.
I admit i still watch and pay attention but it is a shadow of its former self and that to me is very sad.

Indy is the warm spot in my heart. It is family and friends, it is the shiver I feel when I hear the band start playing “Back Home Again in Indiana”, the prayer I say as the green flag is waved. It is the warm May sun high in the sky and the son next to me with wide eyes wide and a warm smile. It is the remembrance and honor of the past with an eye toward a glorious future. There are other races in other places, but there is only one “500”. Indy stands alone.

Tradition. Tradition. Tradition. That is what Mario calls it. Memories too. Inclusiveness. Bravery. Skill. Teamwork. Roars. Cheers. Tragedies. Thrills. I think of the voices too, like Sid Collins’ “Greatest spectacle In racing,” Tom Carnegie’s “New track record” and Tony Hulman’s “Gentlemen, start your engines!” My first race was 1965, as a young boy. I got to see the last of the Novi’s and the first of the rear engine winners. I remember an old lady sharing food from her picnic basket with me at that race. Friends and fans are what it is all about. I also remember my heart pounding for a few hours after I saw Mario’s flip. If your heart is not pounding faster, you don’t know what Indy means.

The Indianapolis 500 will always mean family. My Father and Grandfather took me to the track in 1962 for the first time. After that it was always a family tailgate at the race with Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins. If it wasn’t being at the race it was at someone’s house listening to Sid broadcast the event…again with the relatives.

The race and the track are pure money, but no value can be place on my times at T.H.E. Speedway with my family.

The Indianapolis 500 was my dads job in the 50’s (He worked for WFBM.)

The 500 became a family event from 1959 till the 80’s as a family we would order 12 tickets in Tower Terrace every year.

From the 90’s till now, Indy has become very special. As a Christian I became active in the track ministry with Hunter and Mark and Bob. I love the extended family I see each year as I worship with them in the Media Center. Some have gone on to glory and are missed. The Indy 500, more than a race.

What Indy means to me? Memories with my dad. My father is a native mid-westerner, (Iowa), so the Indy 500 has always been a big part of his life. I myself was born and raised here on the west coast. In my 54 years I have never had the privilege of attending a race in person, (but is is on my to do list). Some of my earliest memories are lying on the floor next to my father listening to the 500 on the radio, one of those large units about the size if a small table. The earliest I recall was Parnelli Jones victory in 1962. A few years later we attended a closed circuit broadcast at the sports arena in LA. The race was rain delayed and we couldn’t come back to watch the actual running of the race the next day, (father had to work), but I didn’t really care because I finally got to see the cars lined up, (though they were covered). We watched those cars for what seemed like hours waiting for them to run, but I didn’t care cause I was finally able to actually see them. What a day!