First Race Day Morning at the Brickyard

06/12/2009

Imagine your name is Raymond or Florence and you are in Indianapolis, Indiana the morning of May 27, 1910. You've scrubbed your face using the porcelain bowl on your dresser and brushed your hair. Stepping outside, the wood planks of your porch squeak softly as you descend down the three steps leading to the path to your barn. The sun is shining, not blazing, and only a few harmless white billowy clouds float lazily above. A pleasant breeze caresses your skin as the sun has barely started its journey across the blue sky. Only the feint scent of the hen house spoils the clear air. Looking down, you see the tiny droplets of morning dew clinging to clover leaves and how some have moistened your leather boots. You hear someone call your name. A neighbor and his wife beckon from their horse drawn cabriolet on the dusty road outside the gate to your yard.
 
"Good morning Raymond," comes the greeting. "Thought I'd take the missus out to that brickyard crazy Carl Fisher built. See you there?"
 
You smile and tip your wide-brimmed hat, or, if you're Flo, you wave your handkerchief.
 
"Why Charles, I wouldn't miss it," you say. "I think those boys are gonna change the world."
 
Sorry, I just had to do that. I like to imagine what it must have been like in the grand old city of Indianapolis - and in its outskirts - the very first morning of the first full-fledged race meet at the Brickyard. Not December 1909, no, not that bitter-cold time trial. This is May in Indiana, the trees and flowers are bursting with color. Then there was this incredible wonder of the world, a vitrified, amazing speedway covered with 3.2 million bricks.  How wonderful it must have been to be there.  Read what it was like by clicking the link embedded in the first sentence of this indulgence.