NEW 03/30/2008

Some time ago, the editor here asked me to write a column… basically about whatever I want, but mostly based on quarter midget history. I have always wanted to be a writer, and in fact have done some writing in the past, Mostly for magazines, a few newspaper articles. I even have a couple (yes, more than one) books that I am working on… but very infrequently and sporadically. The “mood” has to hit me. Some in my family have called me a modern day shanachie, and I wear that label with pride. Some of my columns will be of a purely historical nature, and some will be personal stories.
My dad bought my first Quarter Midget about 1970

It started life as a 1967 Rice car. I loved it immediately, but we didn’t go racing immediately. My dad usually went through any used automotive purchase, taking care to make sure everything was in peak working order.

This car was no exception, and he brought it into the garage, stripping it to the frame, stripping and repainting it, renewing all radius and steering rods, changing all bearings and heims, and overall just getting a basic knowledge of the car. This is part of the reason it took us awhile to go racing. The other part of the equation was that my brother was recently born, and at the same time my mother had developed a serious addiction to tranquilizers. I would watch my dad on weekends working on the car… during the week he would usually spend time after work with me on my homework, as well as making sure my brothers needs were met as well as dealing with his wife who was more often than not passed out someplace in the house. After I would go to bed, he would often go down to the garage to work on the car, which was right below my bedroom. Many a night I would spend an hour or two peaking thru a small hole in the hardwood floorboards that was under a throw rug where my mom had dropped a cigarette while on drugs and burned a 2 foot section of the floor, the center of which had burned all the way thru resulting in a very tiny peephole where I could watch my dad. I couldn’t wait to race, and I wished I could be down there with him working on the car.
Within a year of purchasing the car, my dad finally decided that he needed to leave my mother, as it was no place to raise two growing kids. We packed up our stuff and moved from the San Francisco suburb of Burlingame to the San Jose suburb of Sunnyvale. Sunnyvale also just happened to be the home of the original Baylands Quarter Midget track. We moved into a small two-bedroom apartment, and shortly after moving I began novice training. I remember the first time I went out in the Baylands training cars. I LOVED it! The rumble in the bellypan, the feel of the wind under my

helmet shield, the thrill of the pass, even if we were passing because we were told to. Dick Cullins was an excellent trainer. I couldn’t wait to go racing. Unfortunately in the manner my dad left the house, we left a giant house in an upscale neighborhood to my mom for the time being while moving into a VERY small apartment in a sketchy neighborhood, with NO GARAGE. My dad used a friend’s garage a few blocks away. When it was time for my first race, my car was not completely ready. So he went out and bought ANOTHER car that was in one piece… a very old Mantz. My first race, I finished second place! It was a good finish, as I finished ahead of six other cars, but I didn’t have to pass anyone to get the win. I was always a shy kid, but with the recent breakup of my family I became even more withdrawn. However, at the racetrack, I would temporarily come out of my shell. Not only did I have friends at the track, I also had a lot of older “brothers and sisters” who would look out for me. I had multiple moms to replace the one that was having problems. I had my dad with me, happy and enjoying himself, looking out for me, and we were doing something TOGETHER. Many of my friends from back then remain my friends today. Many of my “older brothers and sisters” remain my siblings to this day. To this day, my father and I remain best of friends, as even during the troubling high school years, we were still friends. Quarter Midgets gave me so much as a kid, something I can never completely quantify, but as much as it gave me as a kid, I am not sure it can compare what it gave me with my own kids 20 years later.
I will have more stories of childhood in quarter midgets, more historical tidbits, as well as an occasional story about my own kids. I figured it was best to start at the beginning. I hope you all enjoy the stories and come back for more. In the meantime, come by my website and check out the historic pictures and such!
john
www.mitchellfamilyracing.com

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