IT WAS AT THE Winternationals last February in Pomona that I found myself sitting in Don Garlits' tow truck, talking about the upcoming third edition of the National Challenge. Garlits was pretty excited about the possibilities of promoting a major event within driving distance of New York City. With a population of over 12 million people to draw upon, he seemed to think the race could attract over 100,000 fans during the three-day period. He also seemed to think that the media play in local newspapers and television would finally come to establish drag racing on a par with other major sporting endeavors.

For Garlits, the man who had formed the Professional Racers Association three years ago in an attempt to force the sanctioning bodies into raising their purse money, it was a dream coming true. For over 20 years he had struggled to make it in a sport which originally paid off in trophies and tools and which was reported on the back pages of the newspapers, if at all. But now it looked like drag racing was about to hit the big time.

So the 74 version of the National Challenge was going to be a monumental event. In preparation for the big spectacle, the name of the association was changed to the Professional Racers Organization so that the initials would spell out "PRO," as in professional. New York National Speedway, an excellent facility near Center Moriches, Long Island, was chosen as the site, and the organization entered into an agreement with track operators for a cut of the gate receipts. If everything went according to plan, the PRO could come out of New York with $100,000 of its own, enough to promote the event itself the following year.

Garlits had great expectations for National Challenge '74, and it showed on his face and in his speech even last February as he excitedly explained the plans for the event. Unfortunately, the event didn't meet those expectations. By the time the gates were locked on Sunday following last August's race, it was apparent that both the PRO and the National Challenge had taken a gigantic dive. Garlits had resigned as the organization's president, the organization itself was a shambles and more than a few racers had been bummed-out beyond belief. The best laid plans of mice and men had gone awry . . . very awry.

For me, the long ordeal began on Saturday morning of race weekend. I had flown all night from Los Angeles only to arrive at the track to discover there were no press credentials waiting for me. That is, I was told there were no credentials by the track PR man. Actually, the passes were right there on top of his stack, in alphabetical order - remember, my name starts with an A. But he simply couldn't be bothered. He refused to look for them. I had missed Friday night's qualifying session, in which Don Prudhomme had taken his Funny Car to an all-time Low E.T. for the class at 6.19, and I was understandably anxious to get into the track to catch up on lost time. But no amount of begging and/or pleading could get him to open that briefcase of his and take a look inside for my passes.

Joining me in frustration at the locked and guarded gate was Terry Capp, who had towed the "Wheeler Dealer" Top Fuel dragster 4,000 miles from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, in order to compete in the National Challenge. He wanted to get into the pits to replace a couple of pistons which had melted on a qualifying pass the previous evening, but the gates were locked and no one was to be admitted until noon. It apparently didn't matter that some crews had spent the night with their cars and has been in the pits all morning working on them as they were at the time-Capp was locked out. That was that.

Capp and I walked past the Phil Castro-nova crew who had also been locked out of the pits and were busily rebuilding the "Custom Body" Funny Car's engine in the no parking zone on the street near the pit entrance. We sat and talked. Capp had arrived early Friday only to discover that officials claimed to have no record of receiving his $150 pre-entry fee. They made him fork over $180 in cash in order to get past the gate.

Once inside, Capp got down to the business of qualifying. Early Friday night he pulled to the line to make a pass. But track director Ed Eaton was (by his own admission) trying to slow down the action due to the fact that only 38 Top Fuelers, 21 Funny Cars and 23 Pro Stocks had entered the race which traditionally presents 32-car fields in each of the three professional categories. According to Capp, his engine began to melt so he punched off early, red-lighting and went through the traps at 6.24.

Although this time was the sixth best E.T. turned during all of Friday night's Top Fuel qualifying and should have ensured Capp a spot in the field (since Friday's top eight qualifiers in each class were guaranteed a spot in the program), Capp's time was disqualified due to a PRO rule which disallowed red-light qualifying times. The rule had been instituted to make every qualifying attempt a "real" race-certainly a good idea from the fans' standpoint. But Eaton decided to disqualify Capp completely from the race instead of just disallowing the time. After some argument with PRO officials, Eaton gave in and agreed only to disqualify the time, but to let Capp continue to race.

After being informed of the disqualification, Capp approached Garlits and asked him to overrule Eaton's decision. He felt that since he was only acting to save his motor (according to his version of the story), his time should be allowed to stand. Garlits agreed with Capp's reasoning. He told Capp to tell Eaton he (Garlits) had okayed the run. But Eaton said he wanted Garlits' signature on the E.T. slip before he would reinstate the car, apparently thinking that Garlits would back him up on sticking to the previously agreed upon rules. So Capp went back to Garlits, had the slip signed and handed it back to Eaton, thinking everything was settled.

The dispute over Capp's time would flare-up again later. By this time, though, it was noon out on Long Island, so Capp and I broke off our conversation and he headed into the pits to replace those pistons, leaving me still stranded at the pit gate. Once again I made an attempt to get those credentials. And once again a track official, this time the guard at the pit entrance, refused to even look for them.

So, I busied myself photographing the Castronova crew's continuing flog on the streets of New York. I also kept a watchful eye out for friendly car crews and press types, hoping to pick up a spare set of 'credentials somewhere along the line. Finally, around 2 p.m. I went up to the guards. This time I abusively demanded that they actually look for my passes. Sure enough, they had been there all along.

Relieved and not having time to fret anyway, I hurried into the pits to catch up on some lost time. I needn't have rushed though since there was absolutely nothing happening. The racers were simply hanging around or repairing damage from Friday night, or discussing what it had cost.them to tow into New York. Although the track was open for time trials, nobody wanted to waste the cost of making a pass or risk blowing an engine. After all, since they were running 32-car fields at the race, everybody but six Top Fuel racers were assured of making eliminations.

When a local photographer showed up to take a picture for the sports page, Ed Eaton scrambled through the pits on his Honda, offering to pay somebody $100 to make a pass for the benefit of the photographer. John Wiebe, who had just arrived after fitting the engine in his Top Fueler with the very first set of Donovan aluminum heads, agreed to make a pass, which turned out to be the only run of the day until shortly before qualifying opened at 7 p.m.

Later in the afternoon, another no. developed between the press and track officials. I had gone down to the starting line to photograph the few cars which showed up for some late afternoon practice. No sooner had I taken my spot in the Photographers' area behind the guard rail on the right hand side of the track, than one of the track officials came over to kick me out. The word was that all photo areas except a small spot on the left hand side of the starting line had been closed.

At that point, I and several others confronted Houraney, who told us Eaton had ordered the shutdown of photo areas at Don Garlits' request. It seems that Garlits had nearly run down a photographer on the fire-up road on Friday night and didn't want it to happen again - at least not at his own event. But it was hardly the first time someone had nearly run down a photographer and it certainly wouldn't be the last. That's part of the game we play. In protest, about 20 of the working press gathered together to confront both Garlits and Eaton. After some intense discussion, it was agreed that the photographers' area would be expanded. It was one of the most trying moments I'd ever experienced as an auto journalist.

By the time qualifying opened, the stands, which had remained empty all day, suddenly filled with eager race fans. But they only got to see about four runs when a thunderstorm hit and the track was shut down and rescheduled to open at 8 a.m. the following morning, with qualifying and eliminations all rolled into one.

The press still had high hopes for Sunday. We'd witnessed the thrill of a one-day extravaganza before and anticipated such a show again. As it turned out, we were indeed treated to an extravaganza, but not exactly the kind we had anticipated. Some would later call it 'probably the biggest debacle in drag racing history."

Things got off to a promising start when John Weibe motored through the downhill track at 6.12 seconds to grab the top spot away from Don Garlits, who had run a 6.14 on Friday night. Terry Capp, who thought he was still in the program due to his reinstatement, was in line behind Weibe, awaiting the fire-up signal in order to make a checkout pass on his new combination. Eaton rode up on his Honda to tell Capp his time had once again been disallowed. Apparently, Eaton had been upset when Garlits overruled him and reinstated Capp's car, and he and Garlits had argued through Saturday night about who was boss. Eaton had won the argument with Garlits, and was now going to break the news to Capp.

Capp, who reportedly had been exchanging heated words with Eaton ever since the original incident, became enraged and jumped out of his car while still suited up and began to argue with Eaton. Then, according to Capp, Eaton said, "I'm the director of this event, and if that's your attitude, you're through. Pack up and go home!" The fire-up sign was given and Capp hopped back into the car to make his pass, preferring to argue about it later.

Although he ran a 6.50, still good enough to put him into the show once again, Capp was through. PRO officials John Wiebe, Don Schumacher and Gene Snow: after hearing Eaton's version of the story, backed him (Eaton) up. But Garlits refused to go along. At 3 p.m. on Sunday, after being eliminated in the first round of the race and after repeated arguments with Eaton, Don Garlits, the man who had given birth to the PRO. resigned as its president. He packed up and trailered back to the motel, refusing to discuss the situation with anybody.

Don Schumacher, who had been eliminated in the first round of Funny Car, stepped in to fill the void left by Garlits resignation. This was not an easy task for a man who later told me, "I quit racing for Ed Eaton and Gil Cohn (who owns the track) about three years ago. I dislike the way they run races. I dislike them as people. I only came here because of the PRO." With the tact and diplomacy of a Solomon, Schumacher busted his ass in a valiant effort to hold things together. He interceded on Capp's behalf and at least got his $180 refunded. He acted as a buffer between the disgruntled racers and Ed Eaton. But in the third round of Top Fuel, the bottom fell out. Not even Solomon himself could have held the show together from that point.

Working with a 45-minute cool down period between rounds, Eaton had ordered round three to begin 45 minutes after the first race of round two instead of the last. But there had been one of numerous engine explosions during the second round, causing a 20-minute delay in the program while the clean-up crew did their thing out on the track: And when the signal came for round three, only three of the eight cars scheduled to go were actually ready. Wiebe singled, and then Bucher ran Wolfe, with Bucher emerging as the winner, only to find later that the race would have to be re-run.

Among the five stranded drivers was an enraged Jeb Allen. He had run his race in round two just 20 minutes previously and had no way to get ready for round three. Still wearing his firesuit, he hopped into his pickup truck and headed for the starting line to protest, brushing aside two track officials who tried to halt him.

Meanwhile, Shirley Muldowney and her crew frantically pushed her Top Fueler into dragster staging. Her crew chief reportedly claimed later that he'd had a clock on the car between rounds, and that it had only been 35 minutes since the previous run. Behind her sat three more cars, including Allen's, all of which were legally in line and ready to race within the 45-minute time limit. Only Jim Walther, who had broken the Rod Shop machine, was unable to make it in time.

With four cars in line with a legitimate right to run, PRO scorekeeper Fran Schofield (wife of Top Fueler driver Flip Schofield) made the decision to have Charlie Greer run Shirley Muldowney and then have Bruce Walker run Jeb Allen. Greer and Walker came out winners, joining Weibe, Bucher and Wolfe as the frve semifinalists — a drag racing first.

Then, Ed Eaton, noting that it was 9 p.m. by this time, suddenly informed everyone that the track must shut down at 10 p.m. due to a noise curfew. In fact, standing at the start in the midst of yet another argument, he threatened to shut the whole thing down at that point and sent everybody home.

Hastily, race officials resolved that Wiebe would be allowed to single in the semifinal on the strength of his low E.T. from the previous round. Bucher would face Wolfe again, and Walker would take on Greer, the
winners of those two races coming back to face each other for the right to face Weibe in the final. Walker and Wolfe emerged as the winners.

In the second semifinal of the evening in Top Fuel, Bruce Walker defeated Tom Wolfe while John Wiebe just sat and watched. Twenty minutes later Walker brought the Childs and Albert car back to the starting line, complete with racers tape over the gaping holes in the oil pan and running on warm-up plugs instead of racing plugs. They had blown the engine against Wolfe on their fifth run of the night- It was to be their third run within an hour's time, and they were simply trying to get it to the line this time in order to pick up the runner-up purse. The car expired on the line as Wiebe singled for the win.

The story in Funny Car was also marred by confusion. Due to the odd number of entries, they had three cars going into the semifinal; Don Prudhomme. Tom McEwen and Bill Leavitt. Normally, the man with low E,T. from the previous round would have been given a single. But neither Prudhomme nor McEwen had gotten times in the previous round. An argument over who would get the single ensued, with Prudhomme and McEwen coming very close to blows several times. According to Don Schumacher, "McEwen wanted the bye run or he was gonna load his car on the trailer. I said. Okay, if you wanna put my back up against the wall, load it in the trailer. If you want to talk about it sensibly, get Prudhomme and Leavitt together and let's work it out like men instead of kids. "Which is what finally ended up happening."

That is, they agreed to let Prudhomme single on the strength of his having run best all day long. They also agreed to split the total purse due the three of them equally. But both Leavitt, who won the semifinal race, and McEwen broke on the run, leaving Prudhomme all alone for the final. At that point Prudhomme decided he'd had enough, saying he was "pissed off with three days of this," he went up to Ed Eaton and explained that it was senseless for him to bother making a final run since there was no competition to run against. He demanded both his trophy and money at that point, outright refusing to single in the final.

Fortunately, there were no such complications in Pro Stock. Running heads-up at an equal weight break of 6.75 pounds per cubic inch, Bill Jenkins took his Vega to his third consecutive National Challenge victory. In a classic confrontation, he blew the doors off the Motown Missle, with Mike Fons driving, to take the final.
After the race ended, Wiebe, Prudhomme and Jenkins, along with the runners-up all ventured over to the concrete block house. It was there, around midnight, that track owner Gil Cohn produced a copy of the contract he had signed with Don Garlits. The contract stated what everybody knew. That is, the winners were to receive a flat $15,000 each, including contingencies. In other words, contingencies were included in the purse rather than being paid on top of it. But the contract also stated something that nobody knew about. That is, the runners-up were to receive a flat $3000, also including contingencies. This came as a real shock to people like Childs and Albert, who destroyed a $4000 engine in order to take home what they thought would be about $7000 in prize money. Mike Fons claimed he had more than $3000 in contingencies alone due him and wondered if he owed the track money. And Don Prudhomme, who agreed to split the combined Funny Car winner and runner-up purses with McEwen and Leavitt, simply hung his head between his hands and groaned.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING. I joined PRO officials Fran Schofield, Don Schumacher and Gene Snow for breakfast. They were kind enough to show me their own eliminator charts so I could see exactly what had transpired. They also showed me a copy of the contract that Garlits had negotiated with Gil Cohn. But when it came time to meet in the motel room with Garlits. "Big Daddy" looked at me and said, "What's he doing here?" My welcome had ended, and tactfully, I thanked the PRO people for giving me their confidence and packed up and motored off to the airport myself.

In thinking back over the course of events, it seems tragic that the remarkable performances of Wiebe, Prudhomme and Jenkins were overshadowed by the horror show we had witnessed. Wiebe had put his rail into the fives for the very first time, stringing together times of 5.98, 6.08, 6.06, 6.08 and 6.48 into the winners circle. Prudhomme, who had qualified his Funny at that incredible time of 6.19, put on a flawless show to take his class. And Bill Jenkins had run times of 8.81. 8.81. 8.79, 8.78 and 8.80 at speeds in excess of 155 mph in mowing down the likes of Ronnie Sox, Don Carlton and Wayne Gapp.

But the big question in everybody's mind is whether the PRO can survive this ordeal. It had been Garlits' baby in the first place. He was the man who had organized the whole show. Can the organization survive without him? . . . Can it survive with him?