Win from the Back: Memoirs of a Racecar Mechanic

Win from the Back:

Memoirs of a Racecar Mechanic

Lew, Jeff, Carla and Chad Parks

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© 2011 Lew, Jeff, Carla and Chad Parks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/06/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4634-5248-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-5249-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011919136

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Contents

Introduction

Dedication

Dedication from Lew:

Thank You!

Foreword

by Bryant Ingalls

LEW PARKS up close and personal: By Hugh Baird

List some of the drivers you

worked with over the years.

Chapter1 The Early Years

Chapter2 Horse power, the two legged kind

Chapter3 Goodbye Honesdale, Hello Endicott

Chapter4 The 1970’s

Chapter5 The 1980’s

Chapter6 Indianapolis Time Line

Chapter7 We are Indy

Chapter8 Life, according to Lew

Chapter9 Pookie Parks Thrill Show

Chapter10 Maine Auto Repair

Chapter11 Growing Up with Lew

Chapter12 Cars, cars, cars

Chapter13 The 1990’s

Chapter14 AJ Foyt Era

Chapter15 The 21st Century

Introduction

Joan once said, When I die, I want my tombstone to read, Life with Lew has always been interesting, I never knew what to expect next.

Lew talks about how this book got its name Every year I went to Indy, I always started in the back row because whoever I was working with was a low bucks team. I don’t remember it, but Timmy talks about when he won his first modified race. He was pretty proud of himself. After the race was over I said to him, Well if you really want to impress me, win from the back! That’s what he proceeded to do. That’s where that came from."

Often, in a conversation we’ve all heard, I should write a book. Just as often it doesn’t ever happen. In our lifetime so many things have changed. Progressive technology now allows the average individual with a disproportionate ego to do just that. Write a book.

Jeff says, People have told me you can look at life like chapters in a book. Sometimes late at night when the crickets chirp in the soft darkness we all reflect on our lives and the lives of others. A popular songwriter penned the drama as The Dance. I guess I kind of look at it that way. In many ways, it is kind of like a dance. To have the opportunity to engage in the dance, that’s the best part.

My dad’s a unique man. Many men of his generation are known by sons, daughters, wives, moms, dads and others as unique. It’s a simple courage to get up every day, go to work and attend to all of the problems and challenges that confront them. In a time when we’re losing about one thousand World War Two veterans each day, we all need to reflect for a brief, bright moment in time.

We grew up in a region of the northeast that at one time offered stability, security and opportunity. For the most part, life was quite predictable. We had an industry in our town that offered all those attributes, the price for that was that it created a mass of men and women that we referred to as zipper heads. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with these individuals. The town; commerce and our own livelihood was based upon their productivity. I just knew my dad was different. Very, very different. This is his story. The story of my dad, Lew Parks.

Carla adds, Being born the youngest sibling in a perfect family is rough. The youngest child seems to automatically be given an extra dose of spirit—just so your parents say, Thank God this is the last child. My father was NO exception. He had some different ideas for his life—from his parents expectations. He did his own thing. So, that’s why Dad was so good at giving his oldest son the dinner table lecture of, Be a leader not a follower. Because he was a leader not a follower.

My father is the best storyteller. He has the funniest stories, whether it’s about growing up or racing. He’ll make you laugh so hard you can’t stop crying. However, he usually keeps them all to himself and only tells them on rare occasions when HE wants to. On these occasions, we pull up a chair and listen. Well, pull up a chair and listen:

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my grandparents Parks and Odell, who set such a high standard for work and education. They were truly the driving force of this family and we owe everything we have become to them!

We also dedicate this book to our mother, Lew’s wife, Joan, who died between the writing and publishing. Joan was the inspiration in all of our lives. She told some of her own memories when we first started this project. She was very proud and supportive of it. Joan loved Tony Stewart from the beginning in his IRL days. Joan and Carla would watch NASCAR every Sunday, rooting for Tony. The family asked all of Joan’s friends to watch the race on Sunday and root for Tony when she died! We all did. Tony got his first win of the 2010 season!

To Sabrina, who is so happy to be a part of our family every day. She is supportive and enthusiastic in everything we do. She is following in our foot steps by learning how to scorekeep. Always remember what you learned in these years, no matter where your life takes you!

And to my children, Dacia and Dalya, and my nephew, Cody. You ARE the next generation of PARKS. Keep the standard high and the spirit alive!

Carla

Dedication from Lew:

This book began about twenty years ago with my wife and children saying, ‘You should write a book.’ I kept putting it off, thinking no one would care to hear about my adventures and misadventures. Then a woman from the Morgan Horse Club contacted me and asked if I could talk to my dad about her writing a few pages about his work with the Morgan horse. When I read what she had written, I learned things about him that I did not know or had forgotten. This got me to thinking I should do the same so future generations could see what at least two generations of this family had done. Still I didn’t do anything about it. The children kept after me about doing it. Finally, Jeff and Carla took it upon themselves to start it. About this time Joan’s health had taken a downward turn. And my life changed. I gave up the road to stay home and be closer to her.

Joan passed away in August 2010 after 50 years of marriage. This is a testament to her loyalty. Because I am sure there is not another woman in this world who would have endured what she did. I now think of that time and how lucky I have been because being married for 50 years in this time and age is quite unusual. But more unusual is being married to the same woman for all those years!

This is a dedication to Joan and also the children that she created. I must thank the children for their help because without their help, I never could have been able to keep Joan home in the house that she and I built together. The home she so loved, as do I. Joan died at home and spent only a week away in the hospital after she broke her hip.

I also want to thank the girls who helped with Joan’s care. The Beckys, Coral, Yvonne, Tracie and Asha. And especially Nikkia and Brian who lived with us for over a year and helped me care for her. I can’t forget Dino, the dopey dog.

Also, I must thank Lourdes hospital staff. Especially the people from Hospice who did a wonderful job.

Joan was a very unusual person who always gave of herself and never wanted anything in return. It was always, What can I do for you?

I must thank the AJ Foyt racing crew who always made her feel welcome when she came with me (and the rest of the family as well.) And for giving up the time and making the sacrifice to come to what had become known as the Annual Foyt Team Barbarque at our home when we raced at Watkins Glen. Joan looked forward to it each year.

Carla wrote Joan’s obituary. At the end she wrote, ‘Please cheer for Tony Stewart to win the race at Atlanta the next weekend. Guess what? He did! I don’t know if it made any difference or not. I will always think it did. I sent a message to Tony saying that in Victory Circle, the camera angle didn’t get low enough so that I could see through the car and see her spirit sitting there next to him. I hoped he didn’t scare her much. Joan adored Tony because he was cut from the same material that they cut AJ from. She thought AJ was the only one until Tony came along. (Then there were two.) She also loved Anthony and all the rest of the Foyt family. Come to think of it, she loved everyone.

This adventure that I call my life was only possible because of the understanding and help from Joan and family. I also would like to thank the many people whom I met along the way. Such as Bobby Fuller and family. Bob Garbarino and family. Tim Connolly and family. There are so many others, who are too many to list!

Thank You!

From Jeff:

Thank you to Curt Tauch, Richard Martz, Robert Henderson and Bob Detwiler for their friendship and support of my racing. What a great group of guys to have in your corner!

From Carla:

Thank you to Dalya for helping me type this all in on the computer, for proofreading the manuscript for grammar and adding to the content and for helping me scan and format it. (She thought it was going to be boring until she actually got reading it. The quotes on the back cover were her idea.) Tracie for helping me edit. Dacia for helping me find my way around the computer so that I was actually able to type it in. (My computer skills were sub standard at the beginning of this project.) Ken for his computer skills. Scott for fixing my glitches and lending his computer skills. Sabrina for her cutting and pasting skills. (It was her idea to put the picture of Cody washing the tire in because it was so similar to the one of Chad washing the tire.) Jean for providing us with pictures, pens and paper anywhere and everywhere we needed it. Jeff for the idea. It was actually his, I am just the one who ran with it. (the engine, so to speak!) Chad for being supportive and offering suggestions and helping me whenever I really needed him. (He always does.) Jess for being so understanding and cooperative. And for giving us Cody who brings a whole new meaning to our lives!

Thank you to Tom Avenengo for his expert proofreading and diligent verification of facts. He was a valuable asset. And for his continued support and encouragement of this book. Lew Boyd (Coastal181) for his continued interest, advice and support. Hugh Baird for his pictures and assistance in gathering information and putting it in chronological order. Sammy Rossi for his support and photos.

Thank you to Nikkia Hoover (Mom’s aide) for helping me cut, crop and paste the pictures. Brian Tripiciano, for putting this book together in proper computer format to send to the publisher. And for setting up another computer for me when Nikkia’s lap top stopped cooperating. Therefore, saving me from ultimate despair! Little did these kids know, when they came to live with Mom and Dad that they would also become assessories to a book!

Thank you to all those of you who took the time to tell stories, share memories and photos with us and help make this book possible. Because I think you know that if we depended soley on Lew’s narration for this, we would still be waiting—due to the cat frequently having his tongue—along with his desire to divulge any pertinent details. Read and enjoy it as much as we did writing it. And don’t tell Lew that we got him all figured out, because there will always be untreaded areas in his life. But most of all, thank you for being part of our lives!

I also have to thank my cats, for stepping on my copy and leaving muddy paw prints, for lying in front of the screen when I was trying to type, or on the copy I was trying to read from. Running across the keyboard and typing their own set of letters, sitting on top of the printer when I was trying to scan, scratching and personalizing the copies as they came out of the computer. You know cats, they just exist and don’t bother you much. At least, until you sit down to do something. A vast amount of this book was typed with Ranger sitting on my lap, resting his head on my hand, bobbing up and down as I typed.

And if any of you out there are talking about writing a book, I say, Just do it!

Foreword

by Bryant Ingalls

It is said that the measure of a man can be judged by the number of friends he has. This man measures very high.

I have known Lew for more than 50 years and I have never heard anyone speak ill of him. To be his friend is an honor I hold dear. We have had many adventures—and misadventures—together in 50 years of friendship, but I will let him tell the ones he dares to.

Lew is my life-long best friend and has been there for me and my family so many times that I can’t even count them all. He kept me alive and safe when I was driving race cars plus has fixed or helped fix many road cars for us also.

I am the one Lew credits (or blames) for getting him into auto racing. The first time he met me, I was tearing his 1950 Oldsmobile apart—without his knowledge—to build a stock car. He was suddenly a reluctant car owner. Why he did not poke me in the nose then and there is still a wonder to me. Keep reading for that story . . .

Years later Lew was there for us when I moved my family to Speedway, Indiana to follow my dreams. He rebuilt a truck to use and he, Turtle, and Mike Donovan moved all my worldly belongings from Conklin, NY to Indianapolis. He would take nothing for all his work and time; this is only one of many examples of why he is a man of the finest caliber.

We have taken different paths through the Indy Car series over the years, but still have the same passion for the sport. We did get together in 2006 and bought a TQ midget. It is great fun for us and adds to our long love of grass-roots racing. We do only the winter Indoor Season—Atlantic City and Providence, RI, as this is what our time permits, but Lew may do some outdoor races as he just got another car for his son to try.

We have traveled many roads together on our quests and Lew has reached many of his goals. Who would have thought that this kid from a small town in Pennsylvania would rise through the ranks of motor racing and have not just one, but TWO Indy 500 winner’s rings.

I guess that anyone who would tie himself to an open transporter to finish working on an uncompleted race car on the was to the racetrack is as dedicated as one can get.

This, dear readers, is the story of Lew Parks—one of the few men that I deeply respect and who’s respect I desire.

Bryant Ingalls

February 2011

LEW PARKS

up close and personal:

By Hugh Baird

Accomplishments you are most proud of: being part of the winning Indy 500 team 1999 with AJ Foyt. Qualifying as Crew Chief with Chevy Stock Block for Indy 500 1980 and 1981 with Jerry Karl

First driver you worked with: 1960—Bryant Ingalls-Glen Aubrey, on a stock car

Five-Mile Point Memories: Late 1950: we would drive from Honesdale, PA to Five Mile Point to watch races. We also went to Bones Stadium in Pittston, PA 1955-56.

Favorite Race track: Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Local: Watkins Glen because we won races there with the modified stock car with Tim Connolly.

Preferred wheels: 1933 Plymouth Street rod I have owned for 45 years and 1981 Chevy S-10 pick up truck.(this was before he had the Foyt Harley Davidson truck)

Biggest fear: not completing what I started.

Best part of your job: The best part of racing job is the people I meet and the places I go.

Toughest part of your job: Being away from home so much.

How you spend your spare time: working around my home and property.

What you like most about your self: willingness to work

Anything you wish you could stop: being away from home so much

Best advice your parents gave you: work hard and tell the truth.

Greatest influence on your life: mother, father, sister and brother

Strongest childhood memory: all experiences in racing

Most thrilling experience: winning the Indy 500. Qualifying for the Indy 500 as chief mechanic on the Chevy Stock block. Voted Rookie Crew Chief award from AJ Foyt and Jim Gilmore Racing.

What you admire in others: hard work and truthfulness.

Where you work when not racing-local job: Southern Tier Crane as a mechanic and Fabricator

Heroes: Racing-AJ Foyt, Family—father, brother and sister

Favorite music: Chet Atkins, George Jones, and Anne Murray

First paid job at Indy. Dayton Walther 1974. Driver Salt Walther

First time with AJ Foyt Racing: Las Vegas 1996

Won 1998 IRL Championship with AJ

1998 won Indy 500 with AJ Foyt and driver Kenny Brack

.

List some of the drivers you

worked with over the years.

Stock cars: Bryant Ingalls, Wayne Reynolds, Ben Stephens, Ed Rafferty, Ed Conoron, Tim Connolly

Roger McCluskey, Gordon Johncock, Allen Kulwichi (Pocono and Michigan), Scott Brayton, Jerry Karl, Bob Hane, Billy Boat, John Paul, Jr, Ron Buchnum, Jeff Buchnum, Salt Walther, Stan Fox, Desire Wilson, Billy Vuchovich III, Bill Putergaugh, Arie Lyundyke, Tony Stewart, Buddy Lazier, Dany Ongias, Ludwig Heimrath

Rich Vogler was the most focused driver. We flew in his airplane with him. He was the least fearless. He flew his plane like he drove his race car. Desire Wilson was a good road race. Tim Connolly was the most intelligent, had the best feel for the car and the best work ethic. Tony Stewart was the most willing to drive anything.

1970 MVS Racers: Shelby Dowd Carrol Shelby was the owner, Jim Malloy was the driver.

Hemelgarn Racing: Ludwig Heimrath, Stan Fox, Buddy Lazier

Brayton Racing: Scott Brayton

Menard Racing

Wysard Racing

Tonco Trailer Racing

Lee Elkins

Giafonte

Airton Dare

Donny Beechler

Jeff Ward

Eddie Cheever

Rich Vogler

Comments about Lew Parks from Family Members

Wife: Joan married 47 years "It was one of the happiest days of our lives when one of Lew’s friends hooked him up with AJ. It was like an elusive dream. Lew was so happy to win with AJ. I think they get along so well because they are so much alike. AJ and his family are so good to us. They have allowed us to make this a real family affair.

Son, Jeff, 45, Physical therapist. Owns a Rehabilitation Company in Jacksonville, Florida, and a sprint car.

"As a man, Dad always worked exceptionally hard at whatever he did. He raised all of us to be independent with a strong sense of responsibility to not only ourselves and other people. He lead by example how he treated other people in the community. Many people like my father go through their whole lives and work very hard and try to do the right thing and never receive award or notoriety for it. He is very fortunate that he has been recognized. He has always been directly or indirectly involved in what I was doing—whether he approved or not. Sometimes, he was just that little voice inside my head. He served as a great role model—as a father. Recently, he told me he never made a lot of money. But I feel we were rich because we were able to do a lot of things together: racing, snowmobiling, traveling.

When I won my feature win, my first thought was that I wish my Dad was there to share it with me. He built the motor for me. I was so happy to be in Charlotte when Kenny Brack won. I was also there when Kenny Brack won the Indy 500

Chapter One

The Early Years

Lewis James Parks was born February 21st 1938. Born at home, he was the third child born to Doctor Clarence and Martha Parks. Brother George, and sister, Sylvia had been born as fraternal twins two years prior to Lewis’ arrival. Lewis was the name they gave him at birth and that is what they called him. I never heard my grandparents or aunt call him anything short of that.

The Parks home was built by Clarence and Martha quite literally . . . Clarence’s father Robert and he hauled the lumber from Susquehanna to Honesdale to build the home. It was quite cheap to build. The house was situated on the side of a mountain range that was bisected by the Dyberry creek. On the opposite side of the river, down in the valley was the Wayne County Fairgrounds. Jeff recalls, My sister and I would spend a lot of time looking through a telescope down onto those fairgrounds. The house was large, and included a clinic for Doctor Parks’ veterinary practice. This was in the front and living space was beyond. Also on the estate was a horse barn. At this barn is where the Dyberry equine bloodline evolved. It was a great house to grow up in. It was large with a lot of room, Lewis reflected. The house in Honesdale had hardwood floors all throughout it. Once, I was chasing Sylvia and she jumped into Pop’s swivel chair. She fell and we thought she broke her arm.

Doc Parks enjoyed the house in Bethany. He said it had lots of doors for Lewis to sneak out of. Lew remembers himself, George and Sylvia all squeezing into a little space between the refrigerator and stove where they would listen to the radio and watch Martha cook supper. They would listen to the Lone Ranger, or the Green Hornet.

Carla states, My father was maybe the best equestrian of the three children initially (my grandfather was a prominent vet and a Morgan horse breeder.) He was also the one with the least desire. Maybe horses weren’t fast enough or a little too antique. How do you soup them up or fix them when they are broken? With a gun I presume. Right Dad?

Honesdale, Pennsylvania was a quiet typical town in those days. Honesdale had prospered thru periods of coal mining, agriculture and textile manufacturing. In addition, it had been home to the first steam-powered locomotive, The Stourbridge Lion. Honesdale in the nineteen thirties was like any American town of that era. Electricity was now becoming part of everyday life. Indoor plumbing now made the calling of nature much easier to answer. The automobile and the farm tractor were more common but still unaffordable to many. Farms in the region were still primarily functioning with oxen, mules and basic farm equipment like a horse drawn plow. Most farms were descended from generations of farming families. Like many families, the Parks family grew a vegetable garden every year. In the early years of Doctor Parks practice, he would provide services to the families by Jeep in the spring and summer months and by horse in the fall and winter. It was still more efficient to go by horse in the snow at that time.

Martha Shotwell and Clarence Parks had met years before at a dance in Philadelphia. She was in nursing school at Belleview and he was in veterinary school in Philadelphia. Martha’s father had been a schoolteacher and farmer in Marathon, New York and academics were part of her throughout her life. As the family and the practice grew, Martha took on greater roles in the practice with Clarence. She served as secretary, bookkeeper, assistant and administrator. Clarence’s work kept him away often and for long time periods. His specialization was that of large farm animals and therefore, he went to them. It would have been very difficult to bring a sick or birthing cow to him. He did also attend to the smaller domestics but house animals were not the majority of the clientele. The practice was very demanding and at times not financially rewarding as those families may have etched out an existence just beyond survival. The bill and payment for services rendered was adjusted according to accommodate all situations. The Parks household did not want for necessities but reflected Clarence’s benevolence. Later in life, Lewis once said that Doctor Parks decided the fee as he approached the farm and observed its condition as well. (Lewis would go on to do something similar with this automotive business.)

The family structure was based upon honesty and hard work. As a child, all were required to work in the veterinary practice, horse barn and homestead. Sylvia and George talked in later years about chipping away the rock ledge outside the horse barn to create a pasture. The kids were required to use hammers, chisels and shovels to help open up a small pasture on the hillside.

Lewis recalls, My father never worked on Sundays. Sunday was a time to spend with families. Although Lew would come to work on Sundays, he would frequently cart Joan and the kids to the grandparents, (Parks or Odell) on a Sunday for dinner and bonding.

Early in childhood, Lewis remembers the effects of World War II. My mom would go to town certain nights to assist in the civil air patrol. She would go to the town hall’s roof with other people from town and watch for enemy aircraft. In addition to George and Sylvia, Lewis had several playmates, one of his buddies was actually his uncle. Uncle Jerry Parks was two years older then Lewis and shared the same spirit which made him a natural partner in crime. He was Clarence’s youngest brother. Charlie Hatton, Lewy Howell and Bobby Case aka Squirtcase" were friends who always seemed to find things to do. Bobby’s family had a tire recapping business in Honesdale. It is still there.

Honesdale, in those days, was a town which was primed with simple entertainment. Of course, there was the movie theater down on Main Street. Lewis, Jerry, Charlie, Lewy and Squirtcase often swam or fished during the warm summer months. In the winter, sledding and ice skating were most fun. The boys were active and had many days of fun and adventure. The Deeps was the location for swimming and fishing down at the Dyberry creek.

Lewis recalls, I remember being given a bicycle from a relative in our family. I immediately took it apart then put it back together. Sylvia and George also had bicycles. Their bikes were well taken care of, especially George’s. My bike got a lot of miles put on it. I got in trouble for trying to take some newer parts off Sylvia’s and switching them to mine. I also remember that I built a trailer for my bike. The purpose of the trailer was to haul things around. I also found a car battery. I went out and found two tail lights and bolted them to the trailer. I connected the battery to the tail lights so they would light up. I remember one night in particular that it was snowing and I was out in the driveway, riding my bike, towing the trailer, the battery lit the lights and I was fascinated by the whole deal. Lewis was always intrigued by mechanical things from a very young age and many subjects peaked his interest. (This is a trait that was passed down to Chad and now Cody.) Unfortunately, one of those subjects was not schoolwork. Lewis was by no stretch dumb or slow, school just wasn’t exciting enough.

The house in Bethany had a surgical room at the very front of it. Lewis and siblings were expected to assist in whatever activity or procedure was required. When Clarence and Martha were not home, Lewis would sneak in and roller skate.

One time, Lewis received a small tree ax for a present. He went and cut down all these little saplings on the hill by the dining room window. When Clarence came in for lunch, he noticed all the little saplings down and instinctively asked Lewis about it. Of course, Lewis knew nothing. Clarence went out to investigate. He came in and asked Lewis again. Still, Lewis knew nothing. (My Dad then describes being invited into the laboratory to get acquainted with the leather razor strap. Years later, Lewis laughs at the quote. Not so funny at the time!)

When Dr. Parks would go out on calls, one of the children would often have to accompany. It seems Lewis, although always eager for adventure, was the least receptive of the bunch. This may partially explain days spent away from the house in Bethany, down in the Dyberry Creek. When not able to avoid being the unwilling veterinary assistant, he performed many tasks. Least favorite was using a piano wire. If a calf was still born, it had to be removed. The most common method was using piano wire to cut away body parts to remove the calf from the womb. Lewis would also have to stabilize animals while his dad would perform surgery. I had to go with him to take the tails off sheep. There was this one barn that the farmer never cleaned. He just piled up sawdust to sop up the mess. It got to the height that there was only a slot between the pile and ceiling. The sheep would squeal and jump up over the pile and disappear. Their tails were real springy. More than anything, young Lewis learned what he did NOT want to be—a veterinarian. Lewis recalls, Dad would go out on call at all hours. Another morbid experience in his work with his father was moving Nekomia when she died. Her abdomen ripped open.

Lewis remembers My dad was strong and stern. I remember once, I was about five, he had a horse tied up on each side. He was doing something with it and it reached around and bit his shoulder. He squared off and punched the horse between the eyes. It dropped down to its knees. I got scared and turned around and went into the house. Another time, they were unloading a horse and it got thrashing around and cut its leg open. Dad needed to stitch it. I had to hold the pail of warm water and he started stitching and I passed out, right into the bucket of water.

As a very young child Lewis developed a life long love for motors and the automobile. There are many stories about his early experiments with the gasoline engine.

Lew says, I found what was called a hit and miss motor. This was a large heavy primitive motor that he had deposited at the horse barn, Lewis recalls. Lewis slowly ascended the hill to the barn by pulling his wagon up the hill over several days. Each bout involved a pole, a hammer, and a rope. He would come home from school, change clothes and begin the process. He pulled the hit and miss carcass up to a level he couldn’t go beyond. A stake was pounded into the ground and the wagon and motor tied to it. Later when energy and cunning were restored, another tug, a few more feet up the hill and another stake was driven and tied off. Over many days the motor inched to the horse barn. Once there, the carcass was revitalized. Lewis anchored it to the ground and began his experiments. The motor was old, primitive, yet fascinating to the child. One experiment he performed literally blew the top off.

After several times of starting the motor and letting it run, he decided a fuel additive would be even better. He snuck into the veterinary clinic and searched for a volatile concoction. Ether and another potent liquid were mixed and shaken together. Lewis went back up the hill, wired the governor open and fed the potion to the motor. He said, It ran pretty good for about 1 minute then it began to really increase in rpm’s and power. It got to jumping around pretty good and the horses were jumping pretty good by then too. I got scared and ran around the side of the barn as the motor exploded. When I peeked around the side of the barn, the head was blown right off and I never did find it. (more than fifty years later, Lewis described the motor and experience with great enthusiasm.) Incidentally, Lewis recalls, I took the motor to Millers junkyard by wagon and received $40. I used that money to buy my first car.

Despite his adventurous youth, Lewis escaped childhood without much physical injury other than some cuts on his finger from a toy airplane and once Lewis broke his arm while trying to stand up on a cut tree trunk. He was also called to the thrills of jumping his bike over wooden ramps or off diving boards.

As a young boy, Lewis found solace in fishing. He fished almost every day at The Deeps frequently with Uncle Jerry. He also used to like to catch minnows and chop off their heads. A favorite story is that of Lewis staying much too late at The Deeps swimming. Martha contacted a neighbor who lived near the river. Yes, the boys were there and he would go get them and bring them to his home to await mother. While at the neighbors, the man brought in a thick magazine and gave it to Lewis. The man told Lewis to put it in the back of his pants. He’d need it when his mother arrived. If you got in trouble, you were afraid to go home. There was no wait until your father gets home, whoever was home at the time handled it. Sometimes, Mom was worse than Dad," Lewis states.

Lewis talks about a model airplane he had as a child, I went down to Honesdale and walked by the hobby shop and there were model airplanes hanging there. And they had little engines in them, so I went in to look. And my first thought was I would build one of those airplanes. If I remember right, I bought a kit and took it home and started to assemble it and soon discovered I didn’t have the patience to do that. That I was more interested in the engine than in the airplane itself. So I went back and bought an engine. I don’t remember, it was probably something like $7 for it, which was to me a lot of money. But by today’s standards, it wasn’t much. I took it home because I wanted to hear it run. I found a two by four and attached the engine to the two by four. Set it up on the wall and put a rock on the two by four to hold it steady. And that’s the way I ran the engine. I also learned that the propeller on it was l1inches long, so it would swing pretty hard. To start the engine, you would flip the propeller with your finger to get it going. The problem was that if you didn’t get your finger out of there quick enough, quite often the engine would backfire and when it would backfire, it would slap you in the finger and it would hurt like hell.

I was in the woods wandering around one day and somebody had been up there shooting a shot gun and there was a shot gun shell laying there. I picked it up and I thought, this would work good for my finger to protect my finger. I took it home and that’s what I used to start the engine with. I’d slip that on my finger so that when it back fired, it would hit the shotgun shell and protect my finger. I never did get the engine to run very well. It had what was called a glow plug in it instead of a spark plug. It looked like a little tiny spark plug but it had wire wound in it. When you hooked the battery to it, the wire would get red. And that was what would ignite the fuel charge. Supposedly, the instructions that came with the motor said, that once you got it running then you unhooked the wires from the glow plug and the glow plug would continue to glow just from the heat of the combustion. There’s an alligator clip that went on the spark plug, the glow plug. Finally one day, I got the thing started and it was running pretty good. There were two problems, one I had to unhook the glow plug. And the other one was the fuel adjustment was right behind the propeller and you had to sneak up behind it to try to adjust the fuel. So, I got it to run and I adjusted the fuel and got it to where it was running pretty good. I tried to unhook the alligator clip off the glow plug and it snagged. I jerked on it and my finger got in the way of the propeller. It hit me probably a dozen times before I could get my finger out of there. It really beat my finger up. In fact, I still have scars all over my finger where it hit. I think if I remember right, I counted 11 slices in my finger. That was my first real experience with how deadly something mechanical could be.

He was always testing, discovering, experimenting and inventing. One experiment, unfortunately, involved the family cat, Gum Foot (named by Lewis because he walked like he had gum on his foot). The house in Bethany was large with the bedrooms on the second floor. Lewis had heard that irrespective of how a cat spiraled through the air, it would always land on its feet. The experiment began simply enough by flipping the cat over a distance of two or three feet. Lewis found that throwing the cat out of his bedroom window was a good height to determine its landing ability. He could throw that cat out at any position, feet up or in a spiral or spin and it would land every single time on its feet. Not surprising that the cat was only a subject for a few trial runs before the animal decided that being carried by little Lewis was not as comforting as it once was. Martha stated years later that she had wondered why Lewis was so insistent on taking the cat up to bed with him every night—little did she know about the cat experiment.

One adventure with Uncle Jerry, Lewis laughs out loud while retelling this story, I took a twine from a feed bag and we strung it across the road by the bridge. Just to see what would happen. Who would come. We hid underneath a wagon in the barn. Along came a car and he got right up on top of it before he could see it. He slammed on the brakes and skidded sideways. He stopped and got out. He was close to the barn now. We were still. He was swearing and went up and banged on the house door. Well, must be no one heard him. No one came out. He left. Whew.

Lew recalls another adventure with his Uncle Jerry and a pet hamster which he refers to as the hamster deal. Lew begins, Some where we had come up with, they called them tether cars. They were little tiny race cars. In fact, Joan found me one at a flea market years ago and she bought it. I’ve still got it. But they are a little sprint car about 10-12 inches long. You hook a string to them and stake it down somewhere and start the engine. The car would run in circles by the string. Somewhere we found this car and didn’t have any engine for it. So the first thing we did was got a string and hooked it behind our bicycles and dragged it up and down the road behind the bicycles. It would get jumping up and down pretty good and carrying on. So after a little bit of that, we decided we needed a driver in the car. Unfortunately, the hamster was peeking out of his cage. So we grabbed him and stuck him down in the cockpit on the car and started down the road with him. He didn’t like it too much and he squeezed down inside where the engine would have been on the car. It had an opening in the front with a grill over it. Like the cars had radiators. As we dragged this thing up and down the road, we’d hit rocks and stuff. It broke the grill out of it so there was just the hole in the front. So, Mr. Hamster gets down in there and for some strange reason he wanted to see out, so he stuck his head out through the hole. Well, after we got stopped, we discovered we had another problem, when the hamster stuck his head out of the hole, his ears popped out and now his head wouldn’t go back through the hole again. So now we don’t know how to get him out. The car was in two pieces, it was split right down the center, lengthwise. The bottom was held together by two screws, so we took the two screws out and got the top of the car off the bottom. With a little diligence, we got hamster out of there with his ear still intact. So that was the end of our adventures with a driver in the sprint car.

One of my mother’s many projects for me and my sister was we had to be sandwich men for one of her endeavors. I thought it would be pretty cool until I had to walk the length of Main Street sandwiched between two advertisements among all of my friends teasing.

Doctor Parks recognized Lewis’ mechanical curiosity and aptitude. He bought Lewis his first real tools and toolbox. He was 14 years old. Almost immediately, the tools were put into use. Those tools spanned many years of use until they were stolen in the nineteen seventies at Interstate Auto Parts.

Lewis had secretly bought a 37 Ford Convertible on Brook Road in Indian Orchard. It was in the barn yard and we (myself, Charlie Hatton, and Lewis Howell) decided to push it off the yard into the road to work on it. I didn’t want to carry my tools all the way back home—it was about 5 miles, so I pushed them underneath the car. When I got home, mother was furious and drove me back for them, afraid someone would steal them. She also declared that I wasn’t keeping that car. I made a deal with Herzog’s to take the car. I got to keep the engine and tranny. (The ones I staked behind the barn.) Boy, that’s a car I wish I had today. Lewis sat back in his chair and stared off silently in the distance, obviously thinking about it for a minute.

Lewis was a junkyard archeologist, too. There were a few junkyards outside of Honesdale. Clarence told the story of the walking hood. Seems that coming home one afternoon friend of Doc Parks’ he drove by a hood of an old 1930’s car. The curious thing was the hood had feet! And he figured those feet must have belonged to Lewis. Seems the hood was too large for Lewis’ wagon, so he carried it. The only way to do it though was to get inside it. Those hoods had side panels so he got inside, put it on his back, closed the side panels and pick it up. So, Clarence’s friend encountered the walking hood. Lew’s friend, Joe asked him why he walked. Lew’s answer was simple, No one had a car. That was true, no one did. Lew elaborates, I had gone to Teeples in Hawley. I am sure when I started out that I had no intention of picking up the hood. He was taking the hood to the high school, to use the steel for fenders for an American Bantam he had there.

Martha also encouraged young Lewis. He competed in a soapbox derby race in Scranton which Martha suggested. My mother inspired me to have a soap box derby car. It was a big deal. It was one of the only activities that a kid my age could participate in. I built it with the help of some guy that helped build our house in Honesdale. The first year. The second year, the car was too heavy. The driver and the car could only weigh so much. So, I took the ply board off the roof and replaced it with cheese cloth that I made hard. I raced only twice, in Scranton.

Martha once remarked that on a drive Lewis pressed his nose to the windows as they passed a junkyard. He stared out and said Ya know Mom, there’s a lot of good stuff out there. Honesdale was a small town and had a small high school but they had some great junkyards! Lew says, I was in Boy Scouts, for about 3 days. There just wasn’t enough activity. I played basketball for a while at the Boys Club in Honesdale. We didn’t really have any sports at school. I don’t think we even had a gym. We didn’t have an automobile or industrial arts class. We did have a woodshop and that’s where I made the car piston lamp with the wooden base. Our family still has the lamp.

When Lewis was a young child, he got re-named Pookie. This occurred as the result of a comic strip in the newspaper. The Parks household had an occasional nanny. Her name was Geraldine Gaylord and she pegged the nickname. Pookie’s comic strip character was always headed off in the direction of a new adventure. Geraldine thought this would be an appropriate nickname for the young Lewis. The character was curious, mischievous and always off on some exciting adventure. It fit the young Lewis precisely and permanently. All their old friends from Pennsylvania still call him Pookie. Joan shortened it to Pook.

Honesdale emerged from the Second World War with the excitement and anticipation that much of the country shared. Harry Truman was now president. FDR had died in office. Soldiers were returning from over-seas. The television was still un common in most homes. The Parks’ household revolved around work, horses and academics. There was no television to tempt one into idle time. Lewis quickly became friendly with a child whose family did own a television set, Ob Heneforth. On nights that his parents went to Delmar and Leonna Oliver’s in Beach Lake, he would get on his bike and ride to and from Ob’s house—just to experience television, General Electric Theater. Lewis told us that the family would occasionally go to a local restaurant, the Old Elm Inn, and there was a television there. It was the second place in town to get a tv. One of the only things to watch was boxing from New York City on Friday nights. All you would see was snow and then a shadow or two. If there was nothing on we would play tag or kick the can. They had to put up a 200 foot tower to get reception from New York City. The tower tipped over when it was about 100 feet up—with the guy on top of it. (It would be many, many years before the Parks household acquired a television—not until after all the children were grown and moved out. Martha’s father, Vernon Shotwell moved in with them. They got a tv for him for entertainment. But CD and Martha still did not watch it.) We always listened to country and western music, WWVA from Wheeling, West Virginia," Lew says.

Lew recalls he would walk to Waymart. There was a guy who had a Model A two door Sedan. Lew would hear him coming and start running. If the guy saw Lew, he would slow down enough for Lew to jump on the running board and catch a ride. Then he would slow down in Waymart for Lew to jump off. Sometimes, he even caught a ride home that way. They guy would NEVER stop, just slow down enough for Lew to jump on.

By the time Lewis was in junior high school, the drive to know more about engines and cars had propelled him on to new adventures. Pookie Parks had discovered his Treasure island there in Pennsylvania. It was known as the junkyard. The junkyards that he rode his bicycle to were Herzog’s, Herbie Halburn’s, Burdick’s (on the back road), and Teal Brothers in White Mills. If there was good stuff there, he took his wagon.

Lew says, We were about 13 or 14, and decided we were going to go see Jerry in Susquehanna. Of course the car broke down. It was a ‘40 Coupe. I walked to Herzog Junkyard to pick up a chain, so we could tow it. Well, we started down the road, the Coupe behind Herzog’s truck, me at the wheel with no license. What do I see coming down the road in the other direction, but my father’s Jeep. I ducked down on the seat, and the car veered off of the road into a ditch behind Herzog. Herzog was mad at me—but Dad didn’t stop. Herzog pulled me out, and towed me back to the junkyard where he gave me about thirty-five dollars for the car, which is about what he had charged me to tow it.

Ob Henneforth and Lew began their friendship in Ma Kennedy’s Math class in 1951 when Ob (Larry) moved to Honesdale. Their similar interests drew them together along with Karl Buckland and Jay Branning. They remained great friends through-out high school. Lew and Ob could not wait for the monthly subscription of Hot Rod Magazine to arrive at the school library.

Lew got his license to drive before Ob, so when his 1937 Ford was running, they were able to cruise the big town of Honesdale, or shall we say terrorize. Not only Honesdale, but the surrounding towns of Waymart, Carbondale, Aldenville and Susquehanna. And speaking of the 37 Ford, of course it had to be converted from the little V8-60 to a fire-breathing V8-100 plus horsepower when you add high compression aluminum heads, dual 97 carbs, dual exhaust with loud glass packs and fender skirts. Ob recalls, It was great riding through Aldenville with my girlfriend, Vonnie Blum and me in the back seat, reaching to the front so I could steer and Lew sitting in the passenger front seat with his 6'3 long body working the gas pedal."

When he was 16, my Lew took voice lessons. His mother wanted her son to achieve something important in life and felt singing lessons would benefit him. For Lew, was just an excuse to drive the car. Extreme sacrifice just to drive. Vonnie Henneforth recalls," Lew took voice lessons from Clariece Spencer Young. The same place I took them when he was about sixteen. Ms. Young would lose her patience with Lew because all he wanted to sing was country. Lew has a beautiful, deep voice, but he rarely uses it for talking, let alone singing!

Lew’s mother had a Pontiac, a 54 straight eight standard shift, beautiful blue. He was allowed to take her car as long as he was very careful. Lew would take Ob along. Ob recalls, Lew would pick me up on Grove Street and we would head for Carbondale about as fast as the Pontiac would run. Twelve minutes and fifteen miles later we were in Carbondale just in time for the one hour lesson. As soon as Lew went in, I was free to put any number of miles on the speedometer, as long as I was back by 8:30 pm. On the way home we always had to swing in to the town of Waymart to see if the girls were out and impress them with the sound of squealing tires and the smell of burning rubber. One of those girls later became my wife (of nearly 47 years) and often reminds me of her and Maureen hiding in the bushes because of being scared, not knowing who those crazy boys were making all that noise.

Vonnie remembers, One day, my friend and I were walking down the street. We heard these tires squeel. We got scared and hid in the bushes. Then we saw, it was Lew in his mother’s Pontiac. And he had another boy in the passenger seat.

I knew Lew growing up. I liked Ob, but he was so quiet, I didn’t know what to talk to him about. I asked Lew because they were friends. Lew told me to talk to him about something he likes, like old cars and motorcycles. I didn’t know anything about either of them, so I went to the library and got some books and read up on them. It was the best advice I ever got. (Vonnie and Ob are still married today.)

Lew remembers a driving experience with his father, I used to go on vet calls at night with my father just to be able to drive. I remember one, Dad was sleeping, I was driving. I drove down a big hill, and got going a little fast. Dad never opened his eyes, just said, Aren’t you going a little fast?"

Doc Parks had a panel Jeep that was well stocked with all the supplies and medicine a vet would need. A few times a year the doctor and Mrs. Parks would take a weekend and travel out of town, usually for a horse show. Sylvia and George were moved out by then, because Lew had the honors of staying home and taking care of the Parks’ prized Morgan horses. That meant Lew had to care for the horses for only a 1/2 per day and had 23 1/2 hours to test drive the flat head 6 cylinder Jeep panel wagon full of medicine. Ob recalls many Sunday evenings before the return of authority, trying to sort out the scrambled boxes of supplies and returning them to their proper location in the truck so that the doctor would not be suspicious. Of course, it goes without saying that the speedometer cable had to be unscrewed at the dash panel so as not to add miles.

At this time, Martha’s mother died and her father, Vernon Shotwell came to live in the Parks household. (Lew says because he got old and couldn’t take care of himself.) Vernon lived there until he met a woman from church, remarried and moved into her house, in Prompton. Just a stone throw from where Joan’s brother, John lived. Carla remembers this fascinating butterfly collection on the wall. They were framed glass boxes with real, (dead of course) butterflies mounted in them. Vernon was about 80 when he married Rena. Grandpa Shotwell outlived Rena also. He died at about 96 and was sharp as a tack until the last several months.

Doc Parks and Martha discovered that Lewis owned a car quite by mistake. You see, they were good friends with Judge Rutherford and his wife. The Rutherfords liver near Lewis’ buddy, Freddie Howell. Lewis’s first car was secretly hidden in Charlie Hatton’s garage. It was a 19 28 Buick, Lewis recalls, I got rid of that and got a 33 Dodge, then a 40 Pontiac. Lewis would spend time there working on it. Eventually word got out that the car was his. Pop would fill his Jeep up with gas at Herbie’s the night before going on calls the next day and Herbie would tell him all that Lewis was up to. Lew’s friend, Joe Guinther remembers Lew’s father would not let him out during the week. He could only go out on the weekends. He was strict like that.

Side car experience

Lew recalls his experiences with Joe Guinther and his Indian motorcycle with a sidecar. "Joe Guinther bought an 48 Indian Chief. Top of the line Indian Chief he bought Gager. It was a really nice motorcycle. It wasn’t on it but he got a sidecar with it. He rode it for a long time. A year probably. We decided we outta put that side car on and see how that works. The first thing we did was just put the frame on. And the third wheel without the body. To see how it worked. Well, we went around the block. I remember as we came around the block, the sidecar weighter was on the inside of the turn, as we turned we couldn’t weighter because of the third wheel sticking out there. So as we made the turn, I was going a little too fast and it raised that sidecar wheel up about a foot off the ground. Scared the daylights out of me. I thought the thing was gonna flip over, on the outside of the turn. So we get back to Joe’s house and we go get the body. We had to go down cellar, drag it up the steps, get it bolted down. Joe gets in the sidecar, I get on the motorcycle and we start out of town. We get a little ways down the street and all the mouses that were living in there came to life! They were running all around inside the side car and all over Joey. Joey’s jumping all around inside the sidecar trying to get out. And I don’t know what the hell is going on over there!