Monstrous Was The Word For Sebring

Tavoni worried mostly about the rain that began to fall lightly and then more and more heavily. The team had no special rain tires. Pre-race practice in the rain, with conventional tires, had been dismally poor. Nearly half the race remained to be run, it would be getting dark soon, and rain would not only slick the road part of the course but collect in dangerous puddles on the concrete airport runway stretches.

As it rained, these expected hazards quickly became real. Now began probably the most nerve-jangling and exhausting session of road racing ever recorded in this country and one with few equals in the world. No matter how extravagantly the drivers may embroider the tale for their grandchildren one day, they will hardly be able to convey the desperateness of their predicament. It is certainly arguable that to keep driving courted disaster. It is always said that road racing men never quit because of rain. And they didn't this day.

Phil Hill, a superb driver on wet pavement, took the Gurney-Daigh-Gendebien Ferrari—lucky No. 7—gained second place and set out after the leading Ferrari driven by Allison. Less experienced than Hill, Allison found his steering so unpredictable that he came to the pits thinking something had gone wrong with the car. He was shocked to discover nothing had. And Hill thereby assumed the lead.

With nightfall, and only headlights for illumination, half-lit roostertails of water followed the racers as they ploughed through the puddles. A Stanguellini skidded and wrapped around a bridge pillar, leaving the driver unhurt. Lance Reventlow, builder of the Scarab sports cars, got no steering response as he approached one corner, and he went off the road at high speed in the privately entered three-liter Ferrari of Georgia's E. D. Martin. He stayed in the race and ultimately the car placed sixth.

The rain stopped after two and a half hours and a rainbow appeared, but the course remained treacherous until near the end when the cars had dried a path. Having persevered for 41 laps, Phil Hill was finally relieved by Gendebien after the car's 163rd lap of the day. Hill stood speechless for a moment when asked to compare the conditions with those at Le Mans last year, where it had rained so long and hard.

"It's monstrous," he said finally. "I've never seen anything like it before, at Le Mans or anywhere else."

POINTERS WITH PRIDE

Despite the hazards no serious injury was reported, and Hill by his skill and bravery gave Gendebien a margin of more than one lap to play out to the finish. When the race ended at 10 p.m. Gendebien still had the lap over the second-place Ferrari, driven by Behra at the end, and four laps over the third place Von Trips-Bonnier Porsche. If Italy could point with pride to five Ferraris among the first 10 finishers, and Germany to six Porsches among the first 11, France won no small honor in the victory on Index of Performance (handicap) by the tiny DB of Paul Armagnac and Gerard Laureau.

In the tense moment at the finish, with 48 cars still racing, everyone strained to see the winning Ferrari completing its last round—the 188th for a total distance of 977.6 miles, at an average speed of 80.257 mph—Phil Hill jumped with joy and, seeing the gallant red car, flashed a team placard saying "Bravo" for Gendebien to see. Hill deserved three cheers and a sis-boom-bah himself.