THANKS ROB!
Very cool!

I too was a Swede Savage fan, based almost solely on the month of May, 1973, when this cool, long-haired guy from California came to IMS and dominated the crewcut 500 establishment through practice leading up to pole day ( I was 16 at the time and was trying to talk my dad into letting me have have long hair).

I grew up in NW Indiana and was totally fascinated by the 500. I can still hear Sid Collins' describing the Greatest Spectacle in racing, while playing Wiffle ball and cooking out in the backyard ...

But the Speedway was even bigger and more colorful than Sid described it. Salt Walther's crash is the only reason I got to see the race when they finally ran it. My grandma was a custodian at the Standard Oil Company and scored a couple of tickets through the company for the race, which still was held on Monday back then. My dad (unlike grandma, not a race fan) drove her down to Indy, and when the race was red-flagged by the crash and rain, he brought back tickets from Standard Oil employees who had to be at work on Tuesday.

Of course, the rain pre-empted the race on Tuesday as well, and my dad said no way was he pulling us out of school again on Wednesday and making the 300-mile roundtrip for the third straight day. But we talked him into it. In retrospect, given the events of Lap 57, I kinda wish Dad had kept us in school.

We were sitting in the Penthouse Boxes (awesome seats) at the end of the front straight. All I remember was hearing an explosion and looking up the track toward Turn 4. Then a few moments later, my Mom screamed so loud it frightened me. She had her binoculars trained on the STP pits and saw Armando Teran, the crewman, get run down.

What a sad, awful day ...

I was in New Mexico, visiting relatives, a month later when Jim McKay closed Wide World of Sports by saying that Swede Savage had died. I, too, cried a little ...

Thanks for bringing back some bittersweet memories. I only wish I had gotten to meet Swede as you did. I just knew he had to be a cool guy, and your autograph anecdotes just confirm it.

I've included a story (below)I wrote for the Las Vegas Sun in 1993, when I interviewed Kay Bignotti (who lives in Las Vegas) about the 1973 race. Thought you might find it interesting.

- Ron Kantowski

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{By Ron Kantowski}{LAS VEGAS SUN}

It will always be the month that Kay Bignotti will never forget -- but for all the wrong reasons.

It was in May of 1973 that she led four women (registered as mechanics) through the gates of Gasoline Alley -- the first time females were admitted into the Indianapolis Motor Speedway's sacred garage area.

The month ended with Gordon Johncock, a driver for the STP team for which her husband, George, served as chief mechanic, in victory lane.

It's what happened between those history-making events that hurt so bad -- and still hurts to this day.

``All in all, it's been a great life,'' Kay Bignotti said, recalling George's record seven victories as an Indy 500 crew chief and her father Louis Meyer's three driving victories in the world's greatest auto race.

``But there's been a lot of heartache, too. Like 1973.''

It was 20 years ago this month that veteran Art Pollard was killed in an qualifying attempt prior to the rain-shortened 57th Indy 500 and STP driver Swede Savage and crewman Armando Tehran suffered fatal injuries on race day.

Two days earlier, Savage had dodged the bullet during the first attempt to start the race. Driver Salt Walther was critically injured when his car became airborne and exploded in a fiery crash that involved nearly a third of the 33-car field.

Rain prevented a restart and continued falling the next day, and most of the day after that, before there was a short break in the weather.

It was unfortunate the rain stopped.

After moving from fourth starting position to lead the race, Savage lost control of his ill-handling car exiting turn four on the historic 2-mile oval, triggering what still is considered the most devastating crash in Speedway history.

Savage died the next month in an Indianapolis hospital, finally succumbing to multiple burns and injuries. And just when a stunned racing world thought it couldn't get worse, it did.

Armando Tehran, a 19-year-old crewman on a third STP car (driven by rookie Graham McRae), was struck and killed by a fire truck speeding the wrong way on pit lane en route to the Savage accident scene.

George Bignotti was standing next to Tehran moments before the young mechanic was hit.

Kay Bignotti, stationed on the pit lane stand where she scored the STP cars, thought it was her husband who had been struck.

``I saw a flash of red and heard a squeal of brakes and the thud,'' she said, tears welling in her eyes as she recalled the tragic events of that day.

``I said `Oh my God, it's George.' But when I looked (up the pit lane), George was holding his (Tehran's) shoe.''

The race was red-flagged to attend to Savage and clean up the debris. During the respite, grief-ridden Kay Bignotti left the pits for the sanctuary of Gasoline Alley.

Through the fence, she spotted Sheryl Savage and Lynda Johncock. The driver's wives were frantic, each fearing it was their husband who had crashed.

Savage's car had disintegrated upon impact, making it difficult for track announcer Tom Carnegie to identify the driver.

But Bignotti, who was aware of the STP drivers' exact track position, knew immediately that it was Savage.

She was about to break the grim news to the drivers' wives when Bignotti's mother, June, arrived to comfort Mrs. Savage, who was pregnant with the couple's second child.

Johncock went on to win the race that fittingly was halted by rain after 133 of 200 scheduled laps. But it was a hollow victory for all concerned. The traditional victory banquet even was canceled.

The Bignottis and Savages had become close friends during the winter testing months, and Kay said Swede's death was a bitter pill to swallow.

``I've spent my whole life around race drivers. A lot of them have egos. But not Swede,'' Bignotti said. ``He was just so ... nice.''

Savage, who had been billed as auto racing's next superstar, was 26. Had he lived, he now would be at the age most top-line drivers consider retirement.

Bignotti said the only solace in recalling the sobering events of 1973 is that Savage, Tehran and Pollard were killed doing what they loved most.

``They died doing exactly what they wanted to do,'' she said. ``What better philosophy to have?''

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I grew-up in Grosse Pointe, Michigan during the 1960s and my best friend (then and now) was/is Nels L. Olson, the son of Ozzie Olson, principal sponsor of the Gurney Indy Eagles and Trans-Am cars. I met Swede on many occassions, both at the Olson's home in Grosse Pointe and at the 500. In fact, I was with the Olsons at Indy in 1973 when Swede crashed. Mr. Olson was devastated. He always considered Swede to be a member of the Olson family. I can recall as if it were yesterday, sitting with Swede by the Olson's pool, listening to him talk about auto racing.

Swede was a terrific driver and a terrific person.

He continues to be missed.

- Bill Canfield
(Washington, D.C.)

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Photo courtesy of Frank Sheffield

I liked the way Swede fit into the All American Racers' theme: straightforward, racing-centered, honest and clean-cut. Even the graphics on their cars reflected that orientation, with deep colors and strong but spare graphics. Not a lot of fol-de-rol in their approach to the entire milieu.

Early in the week of the 1970 Mission Bell 250 Trans Am at Riverside, I was tapped to work as Re-entry Starter during one of the first practice sessions. It wasn't an easy job, but essential. The pros came out of Turn Nine at incredible rates of speed, and that meant they passed the Re-entry point, which "blended" into the straight between Turns One and Two, at even more phenomenal speeds. The blend-point was very close to the line the fast cars took at the exit of One, and carried entering cars smack into that line. If a car left re-entry under full acceleration it would be traveling, at most, two-thirds or three-quarters the speed of the fast guys trying to use the same spot on the track.

The fast guys, if running at their maximum, compromise between speed and turning forces, would crest the rise at the Turn One tunnel treading on a very thin line, one difficult to adjust without losing speed, line, and perhaps control. Drivers entering from Re-entry had no view of the exit of Nine. It was the job of the Re-entry Starter to time the release of the re-entering car so that it would not be endangered by or interfere with the progress of any cars leaving Turn Nine.

As you would expect, Swede was one of the first to go on track for practice. He always seemed eager to get with it, to do what he did so well. He made a few laps and was called in to the pits. When he came to Re-entry to go back on course, he slowed, looked at me, then over his shoulder, then at me again, and went down the Re-entry road, ignoring my signal to "hold." When he reached the edge of the racing track another car was aimed directly at him, and closing at maybe 40 MPH faster than Swede's 90 or 100 MPH. The oncoming car had to alter his line and lose time, something that had an effect on his entire lap. Swede caught and passed him withing a few laps.

I spoke to the Chief Steward, saying, "I hope Mr. Gurney will say something to his driver about obeying official signals. Rules are for everyone, aren't they?" In just a few minutes Gurney came to me and said Swede apologized to the other driver, and would come to do the same for me, if I wanted. I said, "Nah, just tell him I understand where he is coming from, and we all have to learn to trust each other."

A class act, from beginning to end, I think.

- Frank Sheffield
Visit my website

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Photo courtesy of Bob Sager

After Swede won at Phoenix in 1970, I was so impressed that he took out an ad in I beleive, autoweek, thanking Dan Gurney, Ozzie Olson, Wayne Leary and crew for their support. He was a real class act.

- Bob Sager

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My sister was 4 in 1973 and never could pronounce Swede's name. It always came out as "Sweet Cabbage." Although I have no specific memories of Swede, everytime his name is mentioned, I always remember my sister yelling "Sweet Cabbage" through the fence trying to get his attention.

- Todd Hunter

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Photo courtesy of Jeff Chiszar

I sat on the catwalk between the tower terrace and the extension and took the photo shown above. I was young, the camera was cheap, and I was probably tired from trying to sleep in a VW outside the track with two other people.

Our seats were always in the NW vista, turn 4. That year, of course, was a crummy one with the weather. We were there day 1, but missed day 2. I was a senior in HS, and a couple of us talked our teacher's into letting us take our finals a day late, he agreed and so we went to day 3.

When we got there, just about all the yellow shirts wanted to see was a ticket at the gate. Heck, there were so few people there that it seemed like a practice day. Anyhow, we climbed up into what are now the turn 1 suites and sat there for a bit. Before the race started, however, we left those seats and went to the Gasoline Alley area...that's how we got onto the catwalk.

I was just going to get some food when Swede's accident happened. I ran back up toward the Pagota and saw the smoke. Man, it looked serious. Just as I realized what was going on, I heard another pretty sickening noise, and looked up to see Armando Tehran fly thru the air right in front of me. I wasn't hungry anymore, ya know?

After the race, we walked down toward the pit fence...and jumped over it into the hot pits! No one cared at that point. Just then, the Carling Black Label car of David Hobbs pulled in. I remember going to it and feeling the tires...really hot and soft. Then we just walked into Gasoline Alley like we owned the joint. It was really somber, but still exciting to be on that Hallowed Ground!

We had a blast till the wreck, anyhow. Then nobody really seemed to care anymore.

- Jeff Chiszar