Like all of you, the death of Kalitta hit me with all the whack of a young Mike Tyson left hook. I’ve been a fan of his father, Connie, since 1963, and saw Scott in his 1982 Southern Nationals debut.
From my years as a reporter, I got along real well with Scott and his father and crew people, ranging from the Oberhofer bros, to Mrs. “Jim”, Tammy Farrell.
Scott was not a back-slapping, ho-ho guy, but you could always count on an honest, congenial answer.
I remember when Scott blew up his Mustang Funny Car at the ’86 Englishtown Summernationals. If I’m not mistaken, that was a first for him.
He could’ve easily been excused for stomping off to his trailer for an hour or two of solitude after an incident like that. Even for well-funded Kalitta Racing, a new Funny Car body and 500-cid nitro engine don’t come cheap. AutoZone doesn’t have ‘em packed in crates near the NHRA race site for just such an occasion.
His statistics speak for themselves. Two NHRA World Titles (1994 and 1995), first winner of four consecutive national events. Four straight wins at the Heartland Topeka race (1993-1997), fourth member of the Slick 50 300 MPH club. Hell, if the roles were reversed, his great father would have had one helluva an act to follow.
To conclude: I was allowed one suitcase and plastic bag to carry my things into Impact House. Wouldn’t you know it? The one jacket I brought had, emblazoned on the back of a Members Only jacket, “Kalitta Flying Service – Home of the Bounty Hunter”.
Scott gave me that coat as thanks for my contributing to the Kalitta Racing press kit.
Ouch.
Of course, the Kalitta tragedy led to the imposition of the 1,000-foot rule at the next week’s national event, the Mile High Nationals at Bandimere Speedway.
My first drag race was of the quarter-mile variety – a San Fernando Raceway Sunday regular Top Fuel/Top Gas show on March 22, 1963. And for the next 45 years, every one of the following 16,777,001 events I attended were 1320 feet, save for four.
In February or March 1971, Lions had an eight-car Funny Car show where a violent crosswind caused the quarter to be shortened to 1,000 feet. Track savvy made Jim Dunn the winner.
I attended eighth- mile races in the 1990s at Byhalia, Mississippi, and Paragould, Arkansas, home of George Ray’s gloriously bucolic and antique “Wild Cat Hot Rod Dragstrip”.
In 2005, Jeff Burk and I covered George Howard’s $1-million-to-win eighth-mile Top Fuel show at Huntsville Dragway, and for me, it was a vision into the future.
Having been spoiled by quarter-mile racing, would the impact have been diminished if it were an eighth mile shorter? Would mid 3’s at 240-250 hold up well visually as a 4.4 second charge at 330+ mph?
I was pleasantly amazed at how easy I was won over to the shorter distance. The noise was as loud, the burnouts were hard, and the fire out of the headers was just as high and hellacious. Aesthetically, the race was an A+, and I would surely go to another.
The race was oil-down free, and this happened in a field that contained what racing cognoscenti would call ‘leakers’. Not only that, but the shorter distance led to a tighter show, yet still with an occasional outta-shape heart-stopper.
So, a thousand feet. Hell yes, even though the distance is 320 feet shorter, the brilliance of the mechanics will have us near 315-320 mph in performance overall.
Because of that, the inability of most tracks to contain 335-mph charges (Pomona, Columbus, Englishtown, et al.) demands a shorter charge, and don’t be shocked that in the near future we see the distance pared to an eighth. The racers are that sharp.
So, it could develop that 330-mph and 4.4-second times might disappear for awhile. I have no doubt that most of us will live to see a 330 mph/maybe 3-second run in 220 yards.
And let’s hope that when it does, it doesn’t come at the price that moved us to 1,000 feet.
