With the 100th running of the Indianapolis 500 just around the corner, it is important to remember that there was once upon a time when the short term future of the race was placed under serious threat, a period where poor mismanagement, controversial rule changes and an economic downturn combined to bring about a proverbial ‘dark age’ at the Brickyard. In today’s update we will be taking a look at this era, and how an American hero saw himself become something of an Indianapolis villain.

On paper Edward Vernon Rickenbacker appeared to be your traditional businessman. Strong jawed and no-nonsense, Rickenbacker was the face of a conglomerate of Detroit based businessmen who in 1927 looked into purchasing Indianapolis Motor Speedway from incumbent speedway president Carl Fisher. In many ways the consortium represented by Rickenbacker was very similar to that which Fisher assembled to establish Indianapolis Motor Speedway in the first place; nearly all of the businessmen featured links with the motor industry at the time, primarily in the Detroit region with many of the men being associates involved in particular with General Motors. Similarly Rickenbacker on paper shared comparisons with Fisher himself; both had earned a living at one point as the owners of a car dealership but also in the way in which they would both be involved in the creation of innovations that would change the industry, with Rickenbacker’s helping to develop a four wheel braking system which would soon become commonplace amongst most American car manufacturers. Rickenbacker, like Fisher before him, was also a keen racer in his own right, making four appearances in the Indianapolis 500 itself prior to the intervention of World War 1 for the Peugeot and Maxwell racing teams respectively.

Rickenbacker’s true calling however came with a different kind of speed however, as during World War 1 he served as one of America’s most successful fighter pilots with 26 verified aerial victories over the course of a single year, a record for a pilot in conflict which would be held until World War II. Although Rickenbacker admitted to not being the most intelligent man, his lack of a college degree very nearly derailing his intentions of becoming a pilot due to being perceived as not having the qualifications, his bravery and resilience earned him the status of a national treasure, and in the eyes of Fisher a perfect man to take Indianapolis Motor Speedway into the next generation.

One of Rickenbacker’s first innovations at the speedway however was one far away from the high octane world of aerial conflict and motor sport he had adorned; golf. Carl Fisher had become a fan of the past-time in his later years of ownership, and convinced Rickenbacker that such a facility based within the circuit’s infield would allow for the facility to generate income away from motor-sports. The Brickyard Crossing as it came to be known would be completed in 1929, boasting a 27 hole course with eighteen holes based within the speedway’s confines and another 18 based just to the east of the facility. In all however, Rickenbacker’s tenure in charge of the speedway would fail to build on the intentions of Fisher and his associates a decade previously, although much of the reasoning for that would unfortunately be out of Rickenbacker’s control.

In 1929 the Wall Street stock-market crash helped to trigger the Great Depression, and it was the sport of motor racing, one noted for its high wealth and high glamour connotations which would be most hardest hit. The winner’s purse for the 500 would drop from a share of $50,000 and a total of $98,250 in 1930 to $18,000 and $54,450 respectively, and the lowering number of participants as a result of the crash led to organisers being forced to ‘dumb down’ the sport’s regulations to encourage more participants to compete in the event, one which included the forced implementation of a riding mechanic for the full 500 miles, no longer could Ray Harroun’s heroic solo effort be repeated during the Rickenbacker era. The new regulations were derogatorily referred to as the ‘Junkyard Formula’ from critics, but its intentions were proven to be somewhat justified, the 1933 race saw a record breaking 42 entrants participating in an event which saw Louis Meyer claim the second of his three victories at the Brickyard.

By 1939 however the threat of war had once again pushed the 500 onto the backburner in the eyes of the public, and whilst three events had taken place in wartime, including the first back to back winner in the form of Wilbur Shaw, the loyal military man Rickenbacker made the decision to cease race competition following the 1941 event, believing that hosting the event would would prove to be a waste of gasoline and other fuels that would be better served as part of a war effort. Rickenbacker closed the gates of the speedway and the great arena of motor sport built was to lay dormant for the next four years, slowly reclaimed by overgrowth and disrepair as the years passed, until the team of unlikely team of Wilbur Shaw and Tony Hulman would come together to save the speedway from an almost certain demise.

Although the Rickenbacker era at the Speedway did see a number of historic moments (such as the record breaking third win for Louis Meyer and the introduction of the Borg Warner trophy) the short-term aftermath of his tenure at IMS often leaves a sour taste in the mouths of Indycar fans up and down the country. The speedway seeing itself transformed from a Mecca of World Motor Sport into an overgrown shambles by the time Rickenbacker shut the gates to the facility in 1941. The heroics that Eddie Rickenbacker achieved in serving his country make him undoubtedly one of America’s greatest national heroes, but his time in charge of IMS remains a period both he and speedway fans will want to forget.

In today’s video we take a look at Rickenbacker’s legendary military career, one which saw him become America’s most successful flying ace during the Great Conflict.