Sandy MacArthur -- with his iconic white helmet, green silk plume, and the names of his races printed around the crown. (Photo from Jim Jenné.)
From the H MOD Over the Hill Gang Newsletter, Volume 1, Number 3 [1990]
Back in the late 40’s and early 50’s, most young men wanted to join the S.C.C.A. and race automobiles. Compared to circle track racing, the appeal of road racing was new and extremely exciting. Most of us bought MGs, which could be had for about $1800, and a helmet for $20, and we were in business. As there were no “production” or “modified” classes, etc., we were grouped only by our displacement so that we all were placed in what would be labeled “modified.”
A little research showed that there was an F.I.A. class for cars 750cc and under Class “H.” The first person I recall exploring this was a New England genius named Candy Poole, who built (or at least entered and drove) a Crosley powered machine called the “PBX,” which was much smaller and lighter than cars most people had ever seen. It opened a lot of eyes at Watkins Glen and other eastern races, and it ran for years and nearly always won.
Candy Poole's Crosley-powered PBX
This got a few of us thinking about the power-to-weight ratio rather than the ultimate horsepower. Specials began to appear which would frequently beat the MGs with only 750ccs. Although eventually about a dozen engines were used, the Crosley was the most popular since you could buy a used, rusted car which would have an overhead cam, over square, five main bearings on both crank and cam, aluminum case, “fixed head,” lightweight 12 inch wheels, and disc brakes on all four, all for about $100. (Few people today realize that all this was standard and mass produced even over forty years ago.) There was soon a booming after-market in manifolds, cams, ignition systems, oil coolers, etc. (Crosley themselves got into the act with a sort of Jeep looking car called the Hotshot and Super Sports which had slightly higher compression, but it was too heavy, had poorly ratioed gear box, and was not really competitive with the specials.)
Another factor that encouraged the special builders was a new product to appear at the time – Fiberglas. No longer did you have to be – or hire – an expert metal beater. All you needed was a nodding acquaintance with an acetylene torch, a little imagination, and an empty garage stall. Road & Track magazine, under John Bond, was always giving us articles on roll centers, under steer and such, and we all thought we were experts.
The Class “H” specifications were practically wide open: displacement limited to 750cc, and to make it a sports car it had to seat two people (try that in a modern Sports 2000!), have head and tail lights, a starter, spare tire, at least one door, a handbrake, reverse gear, and for some larger races it had to swallow an F.I.A. suitcase (about the size of an overnight bag.) This left plenty of room for imagination!
I had sold my MG, so I set about building an “H” car with the help of ex-Californian John Wood. My goals were simple: it should cost no more than a used MG, and it should beat them!
I used a chrome-moly 2 ½” tube ladder frame, Planer suspension in front, using lightened Studebaker parts, an MG T.C. gear box, Henry “J” rear axle, cycle fenders, and 12” mag wheels from Midgets ($10 a piece drilled to my bolt pattern from Pop Dreyer in Indianapolis, where I was then living). Joe Silnes, race car builder also from Indianapolis, made me a simple aluminum body all held on with “Dzus” fasteners so that the car could be stripped down to the chassis in five minutes. The engine received the state of the art treatment: Navy steel crank, balancing, Braje intake manifold, two SU carbs, oil cooler, Mallory ignition, chromemoly straps under the main bearing caps, large oil sump, slightly stiffer valve springs, and different cams starting with Iskenderian, then Harman, and Collins, and ending with Weber. The engine started with 27.5 horsepower and gradually crept up to 55.
Crosley-powered Sparrow (Sandy MacArthur's first H car. Photo published in May/June 1991 issue of Vintage Motorsport. From Sandy MacArthur Collection.)
From all this I put together a car which I named the Sparrow because of its modest ambitions (people associated the name with “English sparrow” some thought it was a foreign car). It was a little overweight (as was I) and really too long, but it did what it was designed to do. Problem was, beating MGs was no longer enough. The Italians had sent over a crop of cars that not only did that but beat my Sparrow just as easily. We were now faced with such 750s as the Nardi (BMW engine), the Siata, Bandini (Crosley), and the Giaur, all of which were made of Topolini Fiat parts and heavily breathed on with lots of garlic so that they went like bombs. The OSCA, from those old pros the Maserati brothers, was yet to come.
I believe Paul Gongelman was high point man in the S.C.C.A. in 1953 racing a light Nardi with a BMW Flat twin giving big bags of torque. Bruce Townsend had built a very pretty little red Crosley special looking for all the world like a shrunken “D” Jaguar – except the latter would not appear for a couple of years. Bruce won Class “H” at Road America for four years running, being clocked at 110 m.p.h.
.jpg)
Bruce Townsend's TXP (Taking first-in-class at the 1957 SCCA Nationals -- against stiff competition, including Martin Tanner, Ollie Schmidt, John Mays, and Sandy MacArthur. Photo from Bo Danenberger.)
A man named Chuck Hassen opened up a lot of eyes nationally at one of the early longer races in Florida by actually beating a lot of Jaguars and such in a Crosley Bandini which looked as sweet as it was quick. A good friend of mine, Jim Riley, bought it and we ran as a team with our colors bright green with white wheels and numbers. This color was supposed to be a jinx at Indianapolis, so it was rarely used and made identification of our team easier for our pits.
When Jim quit racing I bought the Bandini, as it was a lot faster than the Sparrow, which I then swapped for a three wheeled Morgan.
MacArthur's Crosley-powered Bandini in 1954. Photo from etceterini.com.
I ran the Bandini for years and loved it. Another good friend of mine, Craven Smith, was an excellent Crosley tuner, and we did better than our share of gathering trophies. In 1955 I got an entry for the 12 hour race at Sebring in Florida.
About this time Roy Kramer, editor of “Piston Patter” – the Chicago region S.C.C.A. magazine – threw a little quiz question in one issue: “What American made, mass produced, 4 cylinder, water cooled engine would fit right into Class “H” and put out over 40 dependable horsepower, yet can be carried around on one arm? (or words to that effect). After several days of intense head scratching, I came to the conclusion that it could only be a Mercury Outboard. By this time the Crosleys were getting a bit long in the tooth; nothing remains static forever in racing. The OSCA, which eventually killed the era when just anyone could build a low cost winner, had appeared but was priced about $7500.00 (a good bit higher than the cost of a new Cadillac and only about $2500.00 less than a Ferrari) so they did not crowd all the specials off the track at once.
Inspired by the quiz question, I had a very nice visit with Carl Keikhaefer of the Mercury Company, and he agreed to install an outboard engine in my car for Sebring – for free yet – plus he offered to have his team of professional race car mechanics rebuild the car completely, and then lent full factory support for the race. I ended up with a car which was not only the first, I believe, to use a Mercury engine but also turned out to have the smallest displacement (621cc) ever entered in Sebring before or since. I selected Paul Gougleman, whom I had known since school, to co-drive with me. It was a real thrill to be competing in the same race with Fangio, Moss, Taruffi, Dreyfus and a dozen or so other drivers whose names were household words to sports car fans. I believe we were leading the race on Index of Performance when about halfway through our greatly over stressed Fiat “Topolino” gear box gave out.
An amusing side light of the race happened when Paul was out on the 5 mile track: the carb needed an adjustment so he stopped, flipped off the hood, fixed it, and tore on. However, he did not fix the hood quite right, and while getting up to speed it flew off. He stopped again and put in on right, but not before a 300SL ran over it. When he returned to the pit with this big Englebert tire track running right over the front of the car, we all nearly fainted!
I raced the Bandini another year with good results, but it was getting fatigue cracks in the fatigue cracks. Paul had a Giaur with a 70 h.p. Moretti twin cam for sale so cheap I couldn’t refuse. It always set fastest lap time the first lap but was boiling at the end of the lap. All the “experts” could not fix it, but I felt they must be overlooking some simple things – and they were. We solved the problem and won more than a few trophies that summer.
Sandy MacArthur racing his Moretti-powered Giaur. Photo from Speed Age. (Note: Subsequent owners of the car have identified it as as a Gilco 750 Berlinetta, with a body by Auto-Moto. When it was originally imported by Tony Popeo, it was described as a Giaur, and was powered by a Lancia engine.) This car still exists, and is being sold through Rapley Classic Cars.
While doing very well in a six-hour Road America Fall Race with Bruce Townsend as co-driver, we ruined a main bearing and a connecting rod. I HAD to race two weeks later in St. Louis since the Class H Car Club (a forerunner to the “H Mod Club”) had arranged so we could have our own race. We had always raced with the Porsches, and while we could beat some of them we could never beat all of them, so we could never get 1st over all, to carry the checkered flag, to appear in the magazines, etc. So here was the race we had all been waiting to run in, and here I was with a main bearing and connecting rod all shot.
However, when I had sold the Bandini, I had kept the Mercury engine, never being sure if Mr. Keikhaefer would want it back someday. For about ten nights after work, I labored mightily to stuff it into the Giaur; I had to make an adapter plate for the Fiat 1100 tranny and clutch, redesign various controls and radiator plumbing, but we made it to the race. To my surprise, we turned faster laps than the Moretti had done on the same course that spring. I took it down to Nassau for their first race, and got a second.
Keikhaefer had now put a slightly better Mercury engine into the Stanguellini car which Briggs Cunningham had imported to win its class at Watkins Glen, which it of course did with ease. With the Mercury engine, it set some international records at Daytona Beach. About this time Herm Behm, a friend of Keikhaefer, had become the Stanguellini importer, and had a factory entry for the 1957 Sebring to drive with Carl Haas. By this time the race was so important that only factory entries were accepted. Due to poor health, Herm found he could not drive, and invited me to take his place. Carl and I won our class which was quite a thrill that every driver does not get to enjoy. After Herm died, I bought his car with the Mercury engine from his widow, and continued to race it with success. (One year I drove in 10 major races at a total cost of $811.00 including tires, entries, parts, hotels, etc. Since I probably was the tightest Scot in racing, this was most likely a record, but it does go to show one reason why Class H was so popular.)
Reggiano-bodied 750cc twin cam Stanguellini, running at Sebring in 1957. (Photo from Stanguellini website.)
The Mercury company told me about a man in Quincy, Illinois who made exhaust megaphones for their outboard that were the ONLY modifications that they approved of. The pipes had to end 42 inches from the engine ports, yet the S.C.C.A. demanded that the exhaust exit behind the driver. I made a large tank (my “expansion chamber”) of paper then stainless with a 4” aluminum pipe to in front of the right rear fender. The tank I crammed into the rear of the right front fender. Maximum revs went from 5500 rpm to 7200 with no loss of torque. It made a new car out of the Stanguellini. At Milwaukee I caught and passed Ollie Schmidt in his 750 OSCA. A lot of oil and soot had condensed in the chamber; and when we were really going it caught fire. I simply could not quit while leading the OSCA, so I concentrated on ignoring the side of the car, which was fortunately away from the officials. I escaped a black flag to win, and the fire burned itself out with only a lot of blistered fender paint. (More on Stanguellini's sports race cars, and MacArthur's involvement with them is covered in a Veloce Today article by Jim Jenné.)
By this time I had become the Stanguellini importer, and was very busy with Formula Juniors, “demonstrating,” racing, and selling cars and parts. However, I wrote to Vitorio Stanguellini in 1958 and told him that if he would enter a sports car at Sebring, I would sell it for him. I let the word out that I had a good entry, and was looking for a co-driver. All he had to do was meet my specs and buy the car for cost (which was not an unknown practice at the time). I sold the car to a good driver, Bob Roloson, and we went down in ’59 to find our competition was two factory made OSCAs and two factory made French D.B.s.
In the race we were ahead and faster than one D.B., passed one OSCA and were steadily gaining on the other. I felt sure that we would end up 2nd in class, but a light rain came like you only see in the tropics and Bob lost it at speed and hit a bridge support, pretty much destroying the car. Seemingly impossible, he was unhurt.
.jpg)
Scaglietti-bodied Stanguellini (MacArthur/Roloson) that ran in the 1959 Sebring race. (Photo from Jim Jenné.)
That pretty much ended my career in Class H. I drove in a few more races but was too involved in Juniors. And shortly thereafter, everything changed. Racing became more professional, costs soared, “H” class became DSM, and speed greatly increased. The days of the nationwide group of Clever Builders of Super Light Giant Killers was over. But the people who contributed the most to the class and who all made their own cars became and remain Legends.
Candy Poole, the father of the class and one of the very best, John Mays, “the Wizard” who, to my knowledge, was never beaten if he finished, and Martin Tanner, who built six cars with aluminum tube frames which are all still in existence, and who made Saabs look and sound like Offenhausers.
(Editor’s Note [Joe Puckett]: In the interest of H-Mod history, I would suggest the great Harry Eyerly, Don Miller and Red Le Grand be added. Harry because he too never lost! Don Miller and Red Le Grand because they produced many contending cars between them [over 50 in number] and quite a few of these were champions!)
More photos and information about Sandy MacArthur's racing exploits -- along with letters from Sandy that cover this story in greater detail -- can be found on the Etceterini website.
