Buick vs. National: Not What You Think

One of the major issues of auto racing during the first decade of the 20th century concerned stock cars, purpose-built racing machines (called "freaks") and the rules of governance pertaining to them. Make no mistake, there was never a time in the history of the sport when more manufacturers were involved in fielding teams. The market was very young and really a hot mess of competition as players elbowed their way into the national conversation.
 
As the car companies grappled with the best, most cost-effective way to demonstrate their products most agreed wheel-to-wheel competition was the most impactful way to state your case. In account after account, executives asserted that by pushing equipment to its breaking point they learned how to improve the breed. They also found opportunities to showcase to consumers that their products offered good value.
 
Culturally, there were striking contrasts between the factories of Europe and the United States. Americans, for the most part, saw little value in purpose-built race cars because they meant extra cost to their business. Europeans were more enthusiastic about proving their engineering prowess by baking advanced technology into cars designed simply to go like Hell.
 
By 1909 the conventional wisdom in America had it that stock car racing was the most relevant and worthwhile approach for marketing cars. There were outliers, especially among the Indianapolis-based companies. Detroit's Buick, under the direction of company Chairman William Crapo Durant with his super team stable of drivers Louis Chevrolet, "Wild" Bob Burman and Lewis Strang, also stretched the rules.
 
A trio of speed kings literally paraded out of Indianapolis to trek across the distance of the Old National Road on July 2, 1909. They were headed to the Columbus, Ohio dirt track for a holiday race meet on the 4th and 5th, Friday and Saturday. Headed by grassroots icon Barney Oldfield, they represented the National Motor Vehicle Company.
Oldfield had recently purchased two cars for his private race team but there could be no question he had full-on factory support at the meet. National's go-to man and star driver, Johnny Aitken, who had a reputation as a brilliant manager and mechanic, was on hand to make sure Oldfield had the best they could give him. Barney, an important customer and tremendous market influencer, had purchased two cars, one a big National "Six" he nicknamed "Old Glory," and the other a small four-cylinder touring car.
"Jap" Clemens, well known to Indianapolis traffic cops for his street speed, was at the wheel of the little touring machine with Oldfield's wife Bess riding shotgun. That machine was entered in a small car event for the coming weekend. Aitken drove a second National "Six" that he had recently scored with at the Ft. George and Giant's Despair hill climbs. Barney drove "Old Glory" to lead the pack on the 180-mile journey.
 
These circumstances easily led race fans to believe the two mighty teams steeped in resources were on a collision course. Unfortunately the decisive blow took place off the track in a dispute over the rulebook. Buick filed protests over Oldfield's cars, asserting they did not conform to the American Automobile Association's (AAA) definition of a stock car.
"Old Glory" did not have its debut. Oldfield drove the other National "Six" in an inconsequential time trial exhibition. He did win the 10-mile touring car contest, only to have his finish disallowed with a second Buick protest.
 
The AAA promised to investigate the Columbus Automobile Club's management of the weekend. Consequently or no, the Ohio managers gave Oldfield back his win just two days later.
 
Disgusted, Barney said he didn't think their silver cup was "worth 15 cents," and that he didn't care about the race except for the precedent it set for his cars at subsequent meets. In the macro picture, the stock car debate raged on as race teams did then what they have always done: drive tech inspectors nuts with their incessant pushing of the proverbial envelope. Indeed, Buick underwent massive frustration at the big Indianapolis Motor Speedway holiday weekend race meet exactly one year later, disqualifying the 12-car armada they had entered from all but a handful of "free-for-all" contests.
 
The thing about First Super Speedway is that not only does it give you insight to the specifics about many races you may never have heard of before, but we connect the dots to put the results into the larger historical context. It's all waiting for you, cooked up and steaming hot...dig in and go like Hell!