Found about 25 NHRA trophies at an estate sale today. Whats cool is, the center medallion has the "Dedicated to Safety" script on the inside. It appears most of them are from the late 50's to about 62. All metal and wood. The winner owned a model A drag car and also a 550a spyder porsche. The trophies are from the Santa Maria drags and the San Luis Obispo drags. I'm always a sucker for drag racing memorabilia, especially from extinct local dragstrips!
I was just getting ready to start my own post.Trippy.I have a few Fremont Drag Strip and Half Moon Bay Trophies.Alot of them I have found in trunks of cars, some were given to me be the winners themselves and a few off Ebay.
Here's a couple of Pork Zartman with the trophy that he won at Indy in 1963 with the Filthy Forty. The second picture is a picture of our car and Pork with the same trophy at Indy on the 45th Anniversary of his win.
Damn! All I've got is a bunch of Irwindale round win coupons that I never traded in for the cheeseburger.
Joe Hollish gave that to me when I was collecting the parts to build "Miscalculation". As far as if it works, never tried it.
I am thrilled to find your site and while I'm here, and on this most fortunate page, I am desperately, and I do mean desperately trying to find the vintage trophy top that I can replace the one that broke off my dad's only trophy he ever won. I have to find one, have too. My dad is 88 years old and restoring his trophy would make him smile after many long years of disappointments health wise. If anybody knows of a vintage trophy tops dealer or anywhere I can look I would be forever grateful! Here's the story... My dad used to race cars back in the early 1950's. One night of racing, June 12, 1954, was very special to him, as I was born just four days before the race so he carried my baby beads in his pocket for luck. That night he won the trophy dash and after receiving the trophy he went on into the main event and raced the wheels off the car. While passing the second place car, for the second time, his rear tire went behind the second place cars front tire then bumped each other making the rear of my dads car jump straight up while the front tires stayed on the ground. This action caused my dad's body to break the seat belts and be thrown through the square hole in the roof and through the air for the entire stretch from turn 4 passed turn 1, over the wall and outside the track area onto the concession stand roof then onto the walkway below. He lived, barely. He had broken his back, collar bone, and arm and a leg but he lived. The doctors all agreed it was some kind of miracle that he lived. After eight years of wearing a back brace he could finally walk normally but he could never race again. He always cherished the trophy dash trophy and the memory of that night knowing in his mind that he lived because of my baby beads in his pocket. Two years later I was just a toddler so my mom placed the trophy high above my reach up on some curtain rods. It wasn't safe. I had pulled on the curtains, probably to stop from falling down, which caused that trophy to come crashing down on the floor breaking the car off and the stand into pieces. Mom put the pieces into a shoebox up in her closet and forgot about them for years. One day, some 12 years later, she was cleaning out her closet and came across the box of trophy parts. She showed them to me telling me the story about that night and how it got destroyed. I felt horrible about breaking his prized trophy and, at 14 years old, began to research where to find the 'now extinct' parts to reconstruct the trophy for Father's Day. I finally found all the parts in various parts of the country and, with a loan from my mom ordered them. I mowed some extra lawns to repay my mom for my orders and all the parts, the exact same ones, came just two days before Father's Day 1968. I assembled the trophy just as the other had been before it broke and waited. When it finally came time to open his gifts mom handed him the other gifts first then mine. I felt tears start to form in my eyes as he opened my gift. When he saw what it was he froze, his eyes filled with water and his lip started to quiver. He looked at me just as his tears started to roll down his cheeks and said one word, "How?" then stood up and scurried to their bedroom with mom in tow. I went to the closed door and for the first time in my life I heard my dad crying. Mom told him "How". After a few minutes they came out and for the first time in a very long time my dad told me that he loved me and that he was very proud to have me for a son while almost squeezing the life out of me! Fast forward to 2015... my dad had pulled down his trophy and told my grandson and 2 yr. old great grandson (My father's great, great grandson!) the story behind the trophy. In the process it was passed around and was tugged out of my grandson's wife's hands by my great grandson and you guessed it, it fell and broke the top off as you see in the photo. So now, as you can tell, I am desperately trying to find another car like the one pictured. Please, I would appreciate any help at all. Thank you for taking the time to read this. You can email me at ' [email protected] '.
That's the best story ever. I wish that I had one, If I did, it would be yours. But can you fix it? even if its not the way it was when new. Each time that it got broke, is just a new part of the story. I would pass it down to his great grandson. I'm your age and my dad is 85, and in great health. Have a great fathers day tomorrow. And Thanks for sharing your story. Ron...
I really appreciate you wishing you had one and the sentiment behind it. I have the trophy and the broken top and you asked, "can it be fixed?". It's made of a pot-metal like medium and then brass plated. It would have to be soldered back together, if it would stick, then as small as the front wheels are the minute the heat hit them they would just drip. Everybody in my family knows it's going to my grandson, that was a given! I wish I could fix it good enough but I need a new one to be right. Thanks again for the wishful thinking, Ron, and for your kind words, Ken!
The Jalopy Journal
