WHERE THE SON SHINES

In Saratoga Springs, New York, they love a parade. Just as they love a parade in every other city and town, big or small, throughout the United States. This is a day in June, and this parade is strictly for fun, because the good people of all the towns of Saratoga County are embarking on their first Soap Box Derby. Moms and dads and kids from towns too small to have their own individual derbies are gathered at Saratoga for a good time. They even have that candy cotton, looks like candy, hey look, balloons, everything. Peanuts for sale, young businessman, initiative. It takes initiative, it takes enterprise to get an affair like this lined up and ready to roll, but they're doing this very same thing in more than 150 American communities every year. And each of the 150 local derbies is sparked by leaders like these two enterprising young fellows. You don't usually see them in sports shirts. County Judge Richard T. Sherman is more at home in his judicial robes or in business suit he wears as children's court judge. Well, the judge spark plugged the Saratoga Derby this year, but it takes more than a spark plug to make a Soap Box Derby go. Frank McHugh, the business manager of the Saratogian, was, well, you might say the ignition system. And the energy and the enterprise of Ted Williams, local Chevrolet dealer, provided the fuel, the high octane the Derby ran on. For six full weeks this trio trudged tirelessly up and down on highways and byways of Saratoga County. They took on a real load of work when they first decided to promote a derby, the first county-wide derby. They visited veterans clubs, Masonic clubs, Elks clubs, luncheon groups, fire stations, all sorts of local service clubs, Lions, Rotary, American Legion, religious groups, selling a worthwhile idea of service to boys and fun for boys. In all, they told the Soapbox Derby story to 70 different groups all over the county. Just like the other leaders in the other towns and cities, these men worked hard. I guess his honor Judge Sherman had extra enthusiasm because as Children's Court Judge, he knows that boys are happier doing something constructive. When the three derby salesmen drove up and got out of their car at the Greenfield Grange Hall, they Williams was kind of weary of lugging that projector, but he had a movie about the Soapbox Derby that always seemed to fan sparks of local interest to full-blown enthusiasm, so he carried on. But by now, the derby story had gone ahead of them, and they didn't just plant ideas, they picked ideas, too. Like this idea the men in Galway thought up to encourage sponsors. Soon, an important group of civic leaders from all the towns and cities of the whole county had been enlisted, and a derby headquarters had been set up at Saratoga's new Worden Hotel. Here, the men to head up the various committees were chosen. With this strong backing, the derby was really rolling, and even before the race had begun to pay off in more ways than one. Right at this first big meeting, the oldsters met some of the youngsters. The present leaders met the future leaders. Meanwhile, newspaper man McHugh was busy as a beaver. For weeks, the pages of the Saratogan were loaded with Soap Box Derby stories. Personal, heartwarming stories about the boys and their racers. And by George, Frank really saw to it that the people of Saratoga County knew something called a Soap Box Derby was about to take place. You couldn't walk down the streets of Saratoga without being conscious of the Derby. Store windows told the story. Local merchants offered special prizes. The local awards were on display. And more and more boys took on the obligation of building a racer. Pledged themselves to work and thrive. Dad has to sign up with his boy, and that's good, you know. And it's good for young people when the police chief is also their friend, the Derby chairman. Soon, there were Soap Box Derby clinics all over the county. And eager-faced boys drinking in the expert advice. Advice given freely and willingly by men who understand the need, the deep need and the value, the constructive value of keeping alert young minds and hands busy. And sharp young eyes focused on construction. A Soap Box racer appeals to boys. Commands the attention of boys in any community. In home and school, in firehouse and barnyard workshops, they learned what it means to tackle a job and stick to it. Measuring and planning, checking details with the Derby rule book, drawing new designs, making sure that brake works right, or just pounding away. Then came the big day. Time to load up and take off. The Derby isn't just for boys, it's a family matter, too. Come on, Grandma, bring that picnic lunch. We're off to the Soap Box Derby. So, the boy made four-wheeled bundles of dreams rolled out of barnyards and backyards throughout the length and breadth of Saratoga County. Yes, on that day in June, the highways and byways were full of trucks and cars, full of good wishes, full of smiles and friendly waves, full of eager boys and proud parents. From Mechanicville, from Corinth, from Galway, from Bemis Heights, from Schuylerville and Hadley, from Ballston Spa and Halfmoon, from Porter's Corners and Round Lake, through the historic Saratoga battlefield, trucks and cars and trailers brought together the derby racers. Here they are now, all of them, 107, ready and waiting, eager to be off, patient, but worked. This is a big day for them. And just by being here, each boy has attained a kind of victory, a triumph of self-discipline, the stick-to-it-iveness that it takes for youngsters to build a derby racer. But in every community that sponsors a race, the grown-ups find that their sons get a lot of satisfaction in building and doing and trying, in being part of a big event. And the lessons learned by each boy as he sticks to the job of building his racer will make the bigger jobs of life easier and more satisfying. And not only for the boys of Saratoga County, either, for just as it is in 150 other American communities every year, the Soap Box Derby is big news all the way across the country. In Oregon, for example, where after the opening parade, sons of Salem point the noses of their racers down the lanes of a brand new derby track. And farther to the south in California, sons of San Diego send their carefully built racers down a track fringed by palm trees. The Soap Box Derby is an international event. All the way across the sea, 40,000 people of a town named Duisburg stand in the rain while the champions of 170 communities line up to be ready for the start of a Soap Box Derby that will send one of its proud sons off to the United States to represent Western Germany. And so the Derby idea goes. Back in Saratoga Springs, just like at the All-American Soap Box Derby in Akron, the cars are weighed and measured and inspected. And of course, Judge Sherman is on hand to start the first race with a bang. They're off down the two-lane track on historic Union Avenue past the famous Yaddo Park. Now, careful organization pays off. With so many races to run in an afternoon, everything must be done with split-second timing. And so it goes all afternoon. Starts, races, finishes, close finishes. Grown-ups and boys getting together in a spirit of organized constructive fun. Finally, Thomas Whalen is named champion of class A and Carl Smith Jr. champion of class B. This is the final heat at Saratoga, and they're off. It's a tight race all the way with Tom Whelan on the left. Oh, Smith he nosed him out. Carl Smith wins the championship of Saratoga County. Congratulations, champion, and congratulations to you, too, runner-up. Now for more fun. Of course, there's a banquet, a banquet where all the prizes can be awarded. The speeches are kept to a minimum, and attention is concentrated on the boys and their prizes. Things that boys like to own, trophies and awards, useful prizes, and lively, lovable prizes, too. Finally, the main prize for the champion, his trip to Akron to the All-American Soap Box Derby. They really welcome the champions in Akron. Akron even rolls out the red carpet. Akron is Derby town on August 10th. With the help of the Chamber of Commerce and the local JCs, everybody gets into the act. Yes, siree, Akron welcomes the champions. The thrill of traveling from hometown to Derby town pales in comparison to the thrill of your very own motorcycle escort through Akron's busy streets right up to the front door of the Mayflower Hotel, where majorettes form an arc of honor with their crossed batons, and the Soap Box Derby band beats out a rousing welcome. One champion arrives from Pennsylvania all decked out as a coal miner. The lobby of the Mayflower Hotel, Derby headquarters, is really decked out, too. It's hats off to the champions and orchids for each and every mother of a champion. And of course, mother wants to see what her boy is doing. So, she's whisked off to the local YMCA camp where the champions live and lark during their stay in Akron, Derby Town, USA. There's lots of fun to crowd into a busy 3 days. Supervised fun, of course. Things that boys like to do. And before you know it, it's chow time. Barbecued beef done to a turn and turned till it's done. Truly, everything is for the boys. Healthy growing boys like and need good nourishing food, and they get it at Derby Town. But that's not all. From W. E. Fish, Chevrolet's general sales manager, each champion gets a wrist watch. Here's Smitty from Saratoga Springs. Proud as a peacock, isn't he? What else do boys like? Magic shows. This time it's the magic of science, a scientific demonstration that makes the boys' eyes pop. Making a transparent soap box derby racer is no trouble at all for a professional glass blower who usually makes the complex gadgets scientists use. The boys themselves have a hand in stirring up a chemical clock. How does it work? Hmm. You tell me. Then a flaming torch of magnesium metal climaxes a show the boys will long remember. Then off to bed. Tomorrow is another big day. Checkup day, test run day. There's just time to apply one last lick of polish. Every boy makes sure his car is in tip-top shape. Everything is right at hand, tools, and even adult helpers for the boys to boss around. And here young Peter Kalinowski, who won over 30,000 boys of West Germany. Each racer is weighed in, and each boy makes one run down the track in his own racer so he'll get the feel of the singing wheels over the green glare-proof track at Akron, the finest racing strip in the world. The stands are empty now, but tomorrow will be here before you know it. What did I tell you? It's derby day, All-American Soap Box Derby day, and 60,000 people are assembling to pay homage to American boyhood, to the competitive spirit of fair play. Many are parents and relatives who made the long trek with their boys from the far four corners of our country to cheer on the local champion. Others are here just because they like a good race and a good time. Top side, the champions are lining up for the pre-race parade. It looks a little confused, but don't let appearances fool you. The hundred men top side have everything organized down to a nat's whisker. Everything under control. The United States Marine Corps Color Guard steps off right on schedule. And that's the band of the United States Navy. Take a good look at the champions. And take a long moment to let your heart swell with pride. Pride in young America. Young men with gumption, with get-up-and-go. And the straight spines it takes to face up to stiff competition. Now, on with the parade. Let's go. Let's have some fun. Watch this. Oh, the oil can derby with Jimmy Stewart and Edgar Bergen and Joey Brown for the preliminaries to the big race. Yes, they had a lot of fun. They were there for a couple of days to meet the boys and look around. It's Jimmy in lane one, Joe in lane two, and Edgar in lane three. Oh, that Joey Brown's a card now, isn't he? But Edgar won, and he got the oil can. Now, everybody settles back for the big event. The 30 car handlers ease the racers down to the starting line. It's 1 2 3 and they're off. First heat of the day, and it's close. All the cars and all the boys who make it to Akron are good. In fact, this year the slowest heat is only about 1 second slower than the fastest heat. On the bridge at the finish line, where every finish is photographed, 34 men and women work with precision and accuracy to make the whole event tick like a clock. Every 90 seconds all afternoon, three more hopefuls roll down the track. Believe it or not, one heat was so close this year that even the camera couldn't pick a winner. So, it had to be run over again. Hey, what's this? What's happened? There's been some sort of mishap. Joe Lund of Columbus, Georgia, in lane one had a crack-up after he crossed the finish line. Too bad. Guess he got excited. He wasn't hurt though, but his racer is a little the worse for wear. Yeah, it's kind of tough to win your heats and wreck your racer. But, there are still races to run, still a champion of champions to name. Here's Smitty from Saratoga Springs. Uh-oh, he lost. That's right, Smitty. Congratulate the winner. Hey, they patched up little Joe Lund's car. How about that? And there's a well-deserved cheer for a boy who just won't give up when the going gets rough. Now, the field is narrowing down. Only the fastest and best-built racers and the steadiest, surest drivers are still in there. The afternoon and the racers roll on. This one's close. Is that For sure it is. It's Joe Lunn again. He's won another heat by a taped-up nose. And now the final heat. And still the Scotch tape kid, the 11-year-old champion and his rambling wreck from Georgia, just won't give up. He's holding that beat-up, taped-up car to a straight, true course. And if the goodwill of a crowd can help, little Joe can't miss. He's won all their hearts. This is it. As they buzz the finish line, entries separate the noses of the racers. Joe Lunn wins. It's Joe Lunn. Well, this is one time stick-to-itiveness paid off in more ways than one, huh, Joe? Champions get a lift, Joe. That's the way it is. And the cheering is for you, too, boy. You won. First, it's the championship trophy presented by T. H. Keating himself, Chevrolet's general manager. Then a kiss from mom. Kind of strange for an 11-year-old being the center of attention. Now, take it easy, Joe. Chin up. You've got some celebrating to do. The banquet of champions, good food, and short speeches. Chevrolet's advertising manager, W. G. Power, introduces his honor, Mayor Slusser of Akron. Admiral Francis Old, representing the Secretary of Navy. John Knight, publisher of the Akron Beacon Journal. Paul Miller, representing the Gannett newspapers. Friendly Jimmy Stewart has a friendly word. Jokester Edgar Bergen cracks a joke. And cheerful Joey Brown opened his famous face. Boys meet the world's fastest man, jet flyer Bill Bridgeman. And Wilbur Shaw, a fellow race driver from Indianapolis, you know. Then W. E. Fish, Chevrolet's general sales manager, again sets Akron as the site of the 16th All American Soap Box Derby. And now to the business of presenting the prizes. First, the special awards presented by Myron Scott, Chevrolet's assistant advertising manager. Then Mr. Fish presented a trophy and a brand new Chevrolet to the second place winner, James Thomas of Williamsport, Pennsylvania. Finally then, the big event for a small boy, only 78 pounds of boy. Joe Lunn of Georgia, 1952's All American Soap Box Derby champion, gets the award for winning the fastest heat, and a $5,000 4-year scholarship to college for a boy who simply refused to lose. So, that's it. One more spectacle of American sportsmanship backed by the community spirit of 150 American towns. The All-American Soap Box Derby, where the sons of America always shine.