The Midgets were an added feature at Freeport Stadium that night, and we went. I distinctly remember my grandfather leaning over and telling me "Now, Johnny Coy is the one to watch..." And I'll be darned. Johnny Coy, driving #1, charged through the pack, picking off cars left & right, high & low, and even right through the middle of traffic, and he won the race in tremendous fashion. I think Johnny Coy won every time I ever saw him race after that. I had the pleasure of meeting Johnny Coy (real name-John Barbaro) many years later at the Long Island Reunion and shared that story with him. He said, "You should have come more often."
The Midgets were great, but I fell in love with those old Coupes, Sedans & Coaches that raced in the Modifieds, and fell in love with racing, and have been going back ever since. I used to beg my father to go every Saturday night. He'd take me once or twice a year, usually when the Midgets were added to the card. The gravelly-voiced announcer would always open the show "Welcome to tropical Freeport..."
I loved the stock cars, bouncing off each other and off the walls, banging fenders and dragging bumpers, squeezing around tiny one-fifth of a mile Freeport Stadium, with it's hairpin turns, scraping the wall coming off turns 2 & 4. There was a Little League baseball field beyond turns 3 & 4, and a temporary plywood wall and hay bales were set up to keep the cars within the confines of the track. We saw cars go through the wall and onto the baseball diamond, then go back through the hole punched in the plywood and out onto the track, to rejoin traffic with hay, clumps of sod and splinters of wood flying off the car.
In the middle of the track there was a football field, and the cars were forbidden from driving across the infield. There were railroad ties laid out to keep them off. Sometimes the cars would get loose and drive over the railroad ties, bouncing wildly like a bucking bronco. Other times a railroad tie would get wedged under a car or stuck in a wheel well, and the car would continue racing with a spear sticking out like a lancer, with sparks flying.
I remember the cars had to line up behind the concession area for the next event. When the previous race ended, security guards would blow whistles, move sawhorses and stop pedestrians while cars would drive right through the concession area and out onto the track. Then cars from the previous race would exit, driving on flat tires, dragging bumpers, or being towed. I would run down and stand just inches from the cars as they drove past, then run back to my seat in time for the start of the next race.
The best thing about Freeport was-they hardly ever threw the yellow flag! A local curfew prohibited racing from going past 11 P.M. so they were always in a hurry to get all the races in. There'd be cars strewn all over, oil slicks and radiator fluid on the track, and the cars would keep racing, weaving through wrecks & debris. It was WILD!
Years later, the Campi family took over racing operations at Freeport and before the 1973 season, the baseball field was eliminated and the track was stretched to 1/4 mile, repaved and a perminent cement wall was added to turns 3 & 4. The track was renamed Freeport Speedway. This made for some good fast racing until the final season, in 1983.
When I got my driver's license I began going to the races every Saturday night. I remember one night in the Modified feature, Gary Winters #380 and George Wagner #X-9 hooked up and got side-by-side battling for the lead, and stayed that way lap after lap, racing each other clean and staying neck-and-neck around that tight track. When the race ended, the crowd went CRAZY! clapping their hands and cheering in appreciation.
Because of the grass infield, and because of the crowd's hunger for destruction, the backwards/forwards Demolition Derby was invented to close the show. The cars would line up and do 2 laps in reverse around the track, then one lap forwards in the opposite direction. They would repeat this three times for a nine lap race. The result was total mayhem. Cars going in both directions at the same time. Head-on collisions, smoke, noise, headhunting for the leader. I remember one night there was so much smoke, we couldn't see what was going on, all we could hear were pounding engines, screeching tires, collisions, and bumpers being dragged past, somewhere out there in the smoke. One night a car drove up & over the front fender of another, got airborne and put all 4 tires on the catch-fence, bending the upright poles as it went past. There were two dudes sitting in the front row and after the bottom of the car went by, one turned to the other and said, "Oh wow, man..." Anyone who went to Freeport will tell you the backwards/forwards Demolition Derby was the BEST!
When I met my future wife and she told me she used to go to Freeport with her father and brothers, and she began coming with me every week, I knew I had met the right woman for me. We were newlyweds expecting our first child in 1983 and were there the last night they ever had races. Peter "Buzzie" Eriksen won the last race that night and was the last track champion. "Gentleman Jim" Hendrickson had previously won the last-ever Modified race there.
I remember the names of those early Freeport drivers-brothers Ed & George Brunnhoelzl, Axel Anderson, Tom Baldwin, George Cousin, Al DeAngelo, Bob Grazier, "The Flying Dutchman" Fred Harbach, Jim Hendrickson, Lew Hennessey, Marty Himes, "Mousey" Kempster, Russ Klar, Jim Lacy, Les Ley, Don MacTavish, Tom McCann, Pete Michiels, George Peters, Red Raynor, Clyde Reisert, John Rigney, Billy Spade, Art Tappen, Bill Lee Taylor, Fred Tuski, Cliff Tyler, Jim Tyler, Cookie Visconti, George Wagner, Gary Winters, cousins Ed Brunnhoelzl Jr. & George Brunnhoelzl Jr. and his brother Charlie Brunnhoelzl, and of course legendary Bruno Brackey.
I remember the names of the Bomber drivers-Mike Campi, Buzzie Eriksen, Dennis Freese, Greg "Hawkeye" Hansen, Tony Hodge, Randy Murray, Roger Peterkin, Andy Saffioti, Fred Tuski Jr, Bill Verwys, George Wagner III, and Ed Ward. I remember "The Mad Hatter" Tom Kilkenny, "The Hitman" Andy Gleiss, "Bumpin' Bob", "Crazy Joe", "Smokin' Joe", "Long John Silver", "Rocky" and "Wild Man Primmy".
I remember one-on-one spectator drag regulars John Clancy, Carlo Monte and "the B G". I remember Joe Mammolito, Joe Calalupo, Frank Saladino, Al Ermmarino, Mike Ewanitsko, Charlie Jarzombek and Ted Wesnofske. An announcer's nightmare.
I remember the cars. They were all different! Cut-down and cut-up Coupes, Sedans, and Coaches. I remember a couple of Studebaker Hawks. I remember the big old four-door Bombers. I remember Mustangs and Camaros, Pintos and Vegas, Gremlins and Monzas, Colts and Corvairs, Capris and Volkswagens, Cadillacs and Chryslers. I remember the numbers. The Ace of Spades, the three-dice numbered 666, the 8-ball, 15x, x3, X-9, X90, 380, 3k, the Flying A, Circle J, 777, 711, the #1 of "Chargin' Charlie" Jarzombek. I remember the sounds of screaming engines and squealing tires. I remember the smell of exhaust and burning rubber. I remember the distinctive sweet smell of the Midgets burning castor oil. I remember the smoke and dust rising up through the lights and into the night. I remember the thrills and excitement.
I remember Freeport. I'll never forget it. None of us ever will. They can take away our race tracks, but they can't take away our memories! We will always be able to revisit these beloved places in our thoughts and in our dreams.
Dedicated in memory of my friend Vinnie Giovaniello 1962-2004