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Wednesday, February 12, 2003
From the dunes, Zimmerman watches history whizzing past
By KEN WILLIS
NEWS-JOURNAL SPORTS WRITER
DAYTONA BEACH — Frank Zimmerman, 81, is a Daytona Beach native with a clear memory of childhood days that included whistle blasts from the local firehouse on the corner of Orange Avenue and Beach Street -- blasts that signaled beach conditions were ideal for another attack on the records of speed.
Zimmerman, like so many other local kids and grown-ups alike, would make his way beachside to find a good vantage point atop a sand dune, where they would wait for the next man who would try to call himself a world record holder.
 Frank Zimmerman (Photo: The News-Journal) |
“I guess it was back around 1928, 1930, I was a kid at South Ridgewood Elementary. You´d know that somebody like (Sir Malcolm) Campbell was in town looking to set another speed record.
Then we´d hear that fire whistle blast from over on South Beach Street. Everybody was alert to the fact that they were gonna be running at some time, and when we heard the blasts, that meant the conditions were favorable -- it had to be low tide for them to do it.
That firehouse was just about four blocks from where I lived. If it was late enough in the morning or early in the afternoon, they´d turn you out of school when we heard the blasts. You didn´t have to go to the races, but everybody did. I rode a bike over there.
It was similar to the circus coming to the town, a lot of hoopla. I´d go across the (Silver Beach) bridge, then ride south. The sand dunes were full of people by that point. You wouldn´t always see him in the measured mile, but you might see him after he came through or started back.
Sometimes you´d wait for a long time, and just figure he wasn´t gonna go, then he´d decide to go.
Sir Malcolm, I saw him get out of his Bluebird once, and he was pretty well shook up. I don´t care how smooth the beach is, when you´re going 200 miles an hour, it´s pretty bumpy.
But he was British about it. Not jovial or joking or anything. Very austere, not much emotion. But you could tell he was shook up. Then they´d refuel it, check the tires and he´d get back in it.
We would stand up in the sand dunes, and it was pretty loud when he came by. It wasn´t like a low rumble. It was just a roar.
When Frank Lockhart came over, he went in the ocean twice. The second time it killed him. I didn´t see that actually happen. I knew some people who did. I knew some of the older men who went out there and held his head up. As far as the actual speed run, it wasn´t much to see, really. Now I see you, now I don´t. Big deal. But it was a circus atmosphere. There was no competition, couldn´t cheer for any particular team. But it was a great time. It brought Daytona Beach into worldwide prominence, which never would´ve happened otherwise.” -- Frank Zimmerman
Special Report: 100 YEARS OF RACING |  |