An Unsung Hero In Hot Rodding

I’ve spent the better part of the last four or five years entrenched in a sprawling research project with a friend. This grand endeavor is a deep dive into the tangled web of American culture, but my focus has been razor-sharp on the early days of hot rodding and the public’s lukewarm—or downright frosty—reception of it. Let’s face it, from its birth through to the 1960s, the general public viewed hot rodding with the kind of disdain usually reserved for rabid dogs and politicians.

A quick glance at the newspapers of the time paints a clear picture: nationally, hot rodding was the media’s favorite punching bag. Between 1947 and 1965, roughly 80% of the coverage was negative. Even the Los Angeles Times, bastion of sunny California optimism, threw its hat in the ring with headlines like “Hot Rod Hoodlums Ruining Our Streets!” and op-eds from the likes of Billy Graham, who sermonized that all hot rodders were drug-addled gang members indulging in sex orgies as much as they did in street racing.

In hindsight, it’s laughable—a perfect storm of ignorance and fear, manifesting as pure, unadulterated stupidity. But here’s the kicker: while wading through this muck, I stumbled upon a fascinating anomaly. One West Coast publication refused to take the bait. The San Francisco Examiner stood firm, consistently celebrating the well-meaning hot rodders.

Their first foray? An op-ed by Elaine St. Johns, which cast a spotlight on Veda Orr and the virtues of hot rodding. This article, from 1947, is a masterpiece—a gorgeously laid-out spread featuring a detailed circle track illustration and a now-iconic portrait of Veda Orr. The article itself is a beautifully penned exposé on the often-misunderstood world of hot rodding, highlighting both the unfair stigma and the incredible people behind the wheel.

I had never seen it before, and I figured you guys might get a kick out of it too. Check it out:

Interestingly, The San Francisco Examiner would spend the next 20 years riding this beat—championing hot rodding and the renegades behind it all. They even covered major events like the Bonneville Nationals and the Oakland Roadster Show well before industry magazines got their act together. This anomaly got my synapses firing: Who was the maverick behind this positive slant? Who pierced through the smog of bullshit and took a righteous gamble?

Obviously, it wasn’t William Randolph Hearst – the Examiner’s owner who made his beans with “yellow journalism” and sensational headlines. But maybe an editor under him willing to take the wrath to tell the truth? I’ve been hunting…

Sadly, however, the trail is cold. In the past few weeks, I’ve reached out to the San Francisco Examiner, talked to a parade of former employees, and hit dead ends after every lead. No one I’ve been able to find was around early enough to identify the driver behind the crusade. But I can almost guarantee it was some ballsy personality who dared to call it as they saw it—damn the consequences.

So today, I tip my hat to that unsung hero. Cheers to you, whoever you might have been.