William Nelson
Jim,
Is the golfer named Cejka any kin to you? Would he admit it if asked?
When I was a kid, I listened to the Indy 500 on the radio, too. On Memorial Day, we were normally at our cottage, which didn't have TV. I was jealous of my friend, Dan Farchione, (Class of June, 1961) who went to every Indy 500 while we were in high school and stayed in the infield for the race. His uncle was into midget racing, big time, and he was the one that got the family together every year at Indy. I hadn't thought about his uncle's family for quite a while, but recently, Dan's cousin, who I think is that uncle's son, was in the news in another sport. You might have seen a news report up there. He caught a record bluegill in Lake Havasu, AZ. A 6.2# bluegill is a BIG panfish! He was there, participating in a bass tournament, when he caught it. Bet the talk of the big bass changed for a while when they saw that one.
My ETS from the Army was May 20, 1968. I'd already made up my mind that I was going to take a couple of weeks off after I got home and include a trip to see the Indy 500 myself. At the time, I was a pen pal with the sister of one of my buddies at Ft. Monmouth, NJ. After 9-months of training there, we were sent in opposite directions. He went to Germany and took his wife along, while I was sent to Ft. Bragg, NC for "future reassignment to a restricted overseas area." She and her cousin wrote to several guys in all branches of the service and it amazed me how they'd send one or two letters, and sometimes goodies, too, without fail, every week. The only lull was during my cruise to Danang. I bought a roll of adding machine paper and wrote a daily letter to her on it and sent it to her when we got to RVN.
I asked her if she'd like to go to the 500 with me, and she agreed. As it turned out, I was processed a couple of weeks early and another buddy and I got out on May 8th. We enjoyed the race from the cheap seats in the second turn, but we really had a good view. Marty Robbins drove the pace car. It was the year of the STP turbines but, as I remember, none finished the race. Bobby Unser won that year in the same type of Offy that had won the previous dozen or more years. The only downer was getting stuck in the infield. Right up until the day of the race, there was doubt if they could run it, because it had rained every day for over a week and more was predicted. We wound up in the infield parking lot, because we were caught in traffic and that's where we ended up. During the race, the majority of parked cars, including mine, sank into the mud and were mired. A big bunch of guys banded together to push each other out and toward the exit. We finally made it out a couple of hours after the race ended and headed back to her home in Mt. Prospect, IL. That was our one and only "date." I always regarded her as an adopted sister. Last time we saw her and her family was at her wedding. She married a pen pal from the Air Force.
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