The Year I Came So Close

"We're 106 miles from Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas
half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses..."
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � �- Ellwood Blues

Make: Cadillac

Model: Sedan DeVille

Year: 1979

Engine: 425 w/4bbl

First off, I offer my sincerest apologies, not only to everyone viewing this but to myself as well. 1996 was the my best derby season ever AND NO ONE EVER THOUGHT OF TAKING A PICTURE OF THE FLIPPIN CAR!!!! So there are no pics and there will never be pics unless I can hunt someone down who took pictures of my heat. Don't hold your breath, I don't think it's happening. But, I can relay the story of the hulking caddy and my bid for victory.

It was 1996, my sophomore year in derbying. I had spent most of the spring bugging my uncle to death for a sponsorship. Hey, he owned a repair shop and he had access to tow vehicles up the wazoo and cars. He said he'd do it and that he'd find me some big Caddy or a Lincoln. One day after calling him for the umpteenth time, he said 'Yeah, I've got a car for ya.' So I hurried down there to his garage and there sitting in back was this big monster of a Caddy with the keys in the ignition. My uncle told me to take it so I did. I threw some plates on it and drove it home. I swear who ever owned the car before me was a midget. I'm a big guy and I like the seat way back, but the power seat was broken and set to it's point closest to the wheel. Not mention none of the power windows worked and no A/C and it was a nice 95 degree June day. So by the time I got back to my house (about 20 minutes away) I was near death with heat exhaustion (at least I felt like it). The good news was that the car drove flawlessly. In fact, with some TLC, the car probably could fixed up and put back on the road. The body of this car was perfect, expect for the paint being faded. The frame still had it's factory undercoating.

Now, since I was living at the apartment still, it wasn't feasible for me to build the car there, so once again I would have to move the car to my parents house. But before I would get back into that thing, I first had to fix that damnable power seat. I removed the power seat motor and brought to my house and rebuilt over an evening of beers with my friends. Once the motor was reinstalled, I adjusted the seat to a more comfortable posistion and then disabled the motor so that the seat wouldn't be moved again. I then was able to drive the big Caddy to my folks house.

I implemented many of my hard learned ideas on this car. The battery found a spot behind the black where the A/C was and the cockpit was padded up nice and comfy. The big block 425 not only ran beautifully, but after a tune up was the most powerful engine I have seen to this day. Again, my whole family joined me on building this wonderful machine.

Ok, so it's not mine, but my Caddy looked just like this one except mine had red faded paint.

I had no problems in building it. Where I had problems was transporting it to the fair. About a week before the derby (July 4th is when I elected to drive), my uncle called and said that he wouldn't be able to haul the car there, but he said that my cousin might be able to do it. I contacted my cousin who told me that July 4th was the day he was leaving for Conneticut to pick up a car, but he would be able to drop my car off at the fair AT 10am IN THE MORNING!! They won't let a car near that place until around 3-4 in the afternoon because of the crowds. So that wasn't a good idea. Days went by without an answer. My other cousin had a friend of a friend of a friend that sad he'd haul the car for $45 plus he'd get to keep the car for scrap afterwwards. I didn't like that idea either. So, on the day of the derby, me and my dad took his 1990 Chevy station wagon with the full tow package up to a rental center and I rented a trailer. When we got to the rental place they had to REWIRE the lights to fit into the wagon's wire harness. Plus the trailer wasn't a normal car trailer, it was a flippin bobcat trailer that must of weighed 3000lbs by itself and I wanted to drop a 4500lb car on it. But that was ok, it was just a weigh to get to the derby. I won't even mention that it took two clowns almost an hour to wire the harness up. But they eventually did it and we were off to get my car. As we were pulling into the dad's street, the trailer lurched off to one side and refused to roll. Apon further inspection, we discovered that one of the C clamps had broken off and one axle had slid into the other!! We had about an less than an hour at that point to get the car to the fair. I called the rental place in a fury and explained what had happened and they said to come back for another trailer and they would send a team out to recover the broken one. So me and my dad screw up the rental place and they had another bobcat trailer waiting for us. Thankfully, it was already wired for a 4-point light harness, so we were off once again.

As it turned out, my sister had to fight off some guy who showed up to drag my car away while we were gone. It turned out to be my cousin's buddy who apparently didn't take no for an answer and showed up anyway to bring my car to the fair. We loaded up the Caddy on the trailer and everyone marvelled as to how the wagon was taking all that weight. The wagon's rear end was practicly on the pavement, but we were ready to go. The final touch was to wire a ventriliquists dummy spread eagled and upside down to the front end of the car.

I ended up barely making it on time and I attended the drivers meeting as they inspected my car. My dad decided to be my crew so he drove the car to where it needed to be, while I filled out the paperwork.

I had questions as to whether or not the car was a heavy weight, but I was told by the officials that it cleared the weight limit by a mere 300lbs. The guys in my heat (heat 1) didn't think it was legal. My car was easily the biggest of a field of 22 cars and I apparently intimidated a lot of them. One of them, now current IDDA member Steve 'Crash' Bucknam Sr actually went to the the officials and ask them to have my car removed from the heat. They told him the car was legal and to get back in line. So he proceeded to tell everyone to 'get the caddy first'. I said hey, if you wanna see me out of here do it the old fashion way; In the pit. One of my brother's friends was in my heat as well and stood to my defense and agreed to what I said.

Ironically, I was lined up against my brothers friend, who was driving a venerable '72 Buick Skylark with a killer lift kit in the back. When the count down ended, we both punched the accelerator with the intention of knocking each other to the moon. The only problem was that his Skylark's rear was considerably higher than mine, so when we hit, his bumper cleared mine and drove right up onto the back of my car. I was shocked to see his gas tank in my rear window. The derby lasted about 15-20 minutes and it all seemed like 2 minutes to me. I hit the gas and pulled my car and the Skylark forward and somehow he got knocked off me. He some how got himself turned around and I took aim aim at him, some 40 feet away, and I gunned it in reverse. A lot of folks to this day say that the hit I put on that poor, doomed Skylark was the best hit in the history of the Brockton derby. I hit him square in the nose with my tail and my car didn't stop until my bumper hit his engine block. After that I just went nuts, hitting anything that moved. I was really in a groove and not really paying attention to the crowd much. I should of, though. The rear of my car was really going down, and I didn't know, although I should of. Everytime I threw it into reverse, a most horrible sound was coming from the back end. It was the tires rubbing against the wheel wells and the cowd was yelling at me to use my front end. Everything that could break in the cockpit broke. First went the gas pedal, it ended up on my lap, but I was able to still accelerate by stepping on the what was left to it. Then went the steering wheel. Caddies have a telescopic wheel that locks down and the lock broke so the wheel was flying all over the place. Then my seat broke, with the whole back of the seat lying flat back. The whole thing was a joy ride.

It came down to myself, Steve Bucknam Sr, and Jim Mann (one of the top drivers in the region). At this point I knew that the rear end on the big Caddy was pretty sad. I could barely move in reverse and I had lost 2 of my tires. I began to batter Steve's car with my front end, the big caddy running just as strong as ever. Steve hit me, and then I took a shot from Jim and the following happened in about 2 seconds. I lost a third tire and in the process of trying to kick it in reverse, a most horrible crunching sound came from the remenents of my back end and Steve Sr's car caught fire. Jim's car was barely moving so they called the race. Jim took first, Steve Sr took second, and I ended up in third, all in 2 seconds. Unfortunately, third place doesn't warrant a trophy or anything. The real prize was, when the survivors got out of thier cars, Steve Sr, who tried getting me booted from the race in the first place, walked over to me and shook my hand and told me that I drove a good, hard race. I thought it was a classy thing to do.

One other funny thing, when they went to pull my car off the track they broke three tow chains. The rear end was THAT low! The first and second place cars were equally dead and it is no doubt to me that had my car still been able to move, I would have taken the heat without question.

The car itself was totally destroyed. The front end was in ok shape and she still ran like a charm, but there wouldn't be any second derbies in that Caddy. The rear end was short about three feet and the rear bumper was actually a couple of inches under the drive tires. All but one tire was totally shredded. The fatal blow however was the differential had split open because of the pressure that was being applied to it. So, I took the battery and as much chain as I could salvage and and I went home to ponder how close I had come to winning.

To this day, that monster of a Caddy remains the most destroyed car I had ever driven.