This is one of those great stories that I just have to share with the members. It all started in January of 2007, I received an email from Paul Johnson, a former Delta Member.
Benson:
I was deeply involved in Delta Region during the ’60s and ’70s. Am looking at a box full of old Deltagrams with side glances at the trash bin.
Is there anyone in the Region who may be interested in having these before I toss them?
Regards,
Paul Johnson
exiled in Dallas (Texas Region)
My reply:
Paul,
Oh what the hell, I’m a nostalgia sucker. Send them to me if you have time…
If you see Ken Orgeron around the Solo events, tell him he’s schmuck for moving away from us.
–
-Benson Young
-Regional Executive
-Delta Region SCCA
A few days later, I got a box from UPS filled with old club newsletters. I didn’t have time to get into them, so I deliberately boxed them back up to look at later in the spring when things slowed down a bit. Our house was being remodeled and repaired from Hurricane Katrina. We essentially hand to move out of our house, putting the contents into a POD in the front yard, have a new roof, some drywall, and new floors put in while we lived in a hotel. Naturally, two weeks turned into six, and all the stress that comes with that.
Of course, it was March of 2007 before I found the box again. About then I decided to redesign our Deltagram and print it in full color (which is a story in itself). I dug up Paul’s email and sent him a long-overdue reply:
Paul,
I received you package a while ago, but forgot to follow up with you. Thanks
for the old Deltagrams, it sure is entertaining and nostalgic. It’s actually
inspired me to get a new Deltagram out. Thanks for the package.
–
-Benson Young
-Regional Executive
-Delta Region SCCA
I continued publishing a full-color Deltagram, and the response was wonderful. I had great hesitation about volunteering for this, because I had a feeling that it would just eat up a lot more time than I could put into it.
Of course, it took much more time than that. Still, a lot of people got a big kick out of it. I knew I couldn’t keep it up forever, because our club needed a real web presence again, and eventually that would be our top priority.
November 8th, 2007:
Paul,
I’ve had some time this week to actually start reading some of the old
Deltagrams this week, after having to put them aside during a remodeling and
to make room for my daughter who was back from college for the summer. We’ve
unpacked the last of the boxes we put into storage, and I was already on a
nostalgia/history kick for a couple reasons.First, I received Peter Hylton’s Ghost Tracks book, which detailed old race
tracks and is a fascinating read. Mr. Hylton must have an interesting job as
the SCCA historian.Second, we’ve won the TLAC trophy back, and there’s a ton of history with
this object that isn’t well documented. As far as I know, nobody has any
good photos of the trophy, so I set up a quick studio and took some shots
for records: http://www.delta-scca.org/TLAC/2007/images/trophy1.jpgAnyway, I’ve started to go through the Deltagrams and realized just how much
history is in the newsletter, and how important it is to keep them and
preserve them. Additionally, I realized how important it is to continue that
tradition so that what we do isn’t lost. Thanks again for sharing them with
me.I’m starting up a project where these are scanned in and posted to the web
site for everyone to see. It may take a few years, but I think it will be
worth it.Sincerely,
–
Benson Young, Regional Executive 2007
Delta Region, Sports Car Club of America, Region 9, Southwest Division
http://www.delta-scca.org http://www.autoxforum.com
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Paul’s Reply:
Benson, thanks for the update. I’m delighted to read of your plans. Even though I’ve been away from Delta for many years now, I still somehow feel connected to it. I suppose having spent the first 15 years of my adulthood there, it will always be special. I’ll be keeping an eye on the website, hoping to see some of the old history show up, and curious to see what reaction there might be.
As you work through this big project, please feel free to contact me with any questions that might come up. I’d be happy to fill in background information as best I can.
Things were quite different then, as the Region was run in a very formal manner. The monthly meetings were held in one of the Quarter hotels, later moving to the Sheraton Airport. Throughout the 1960s, these meetings were a coat and tie affair, and conducted strictly to Roberts Rules of Order. I was accepted into the club in 1961, as a wide eyed 19 year old with a Bugeye. The requirement for membership then was to attend three meetings in a row, participate in at least two monthly events, obtain sponsorship from three members at large and one Board member, and then await a positive vote from the Board at its next monthly meeting. Wow! Today, all one needs is a credit card number. Here in Texas Region where I belong these days, they don’t even have membership meetings.
Having joined in September or so of 1961, they (foolishly?) allowed me to organize a rally the next February. The speeds were probably a bit high, and I did get called before the Board at their March meeting, but at least they didn’t throw me out of the club. The attachment is a lighthearted recollection of that meeting, though in actuality it was all very somber and heavy. The story is a column from when I wrote for EJag, in the 1970s and 80s as a monthly featured columnist. The magazine has been out of business since the mid 80s, so there cannot be copyright restrictions any longer. If you think your membership might enjoy reading it, please feel free to publish.
Regards, and good driving.
Paul Johnson
I’m amazed. Delta Membership meetings as a coat and tie affair? Membership requiring sponsorship? I can’t imagine that today.
Attached was this article:
A GRAVE SITUATION
“This meeting is called to order.” Looking around the elegant uptown New Orleans living room in which I found myself, I heard these words for the first time as the Board of Directors settled down to business, all pleasantries properly exchanged. Six months earlier I had joined the sports car club, wide-eyed and nineteen. An open date for the February event arose and I volunteered to organize a rally. Much to my surprise, the Board accepted. Much to my surprise, as my total rally experience was as an entrant in one event, and a worker in two others. Nevertheless, I had read all the available literature, enthusiasm overcame shyness, and now I was a bonafide rallymaster. So it was that I was here before the Board, unsure if I was to receive accolades or reprimands.
They were all my senior by at least thirty years and each wore a stern look thinly camouflaged behind a smile. “Do I hear a motion to waive the reading of the minutes? So be it. We have a guest with us this evening, as you all know. Mr. Johnson is new to the club, but has shown extraordinary enthusiasm in his short time with us. No doubt, in time, he will become a valued member, given a little proper direction.”
Ah, a good sign; the 190SL likes me, and I got encouraging smiles from the XK150, the 356, the E Type, the Elite and even the stodgy old Mark Nine. Not looking directly at me were the Alfa and MGA. They could go either way. If I was in trouble, it was because perhaps the speeds were a bit on the high side, though the Jags were all whooping it up at the finish line. The Facel Vega could offer only a frown, but that was not unusual from him.
“Mr. Johnson, you are to be complimented on your first event. The club turnout was high, no doubt due in some part to the title, ‘Driver’s Rally’ you used. Nevertheless, high. There were no gimmicks, no one got lost and the scores were close. You followed up by posting the scores promptly and seeing to it that the trophies were up to par without being too expensive. The dash plaques were a nice touch and you turned in a slight profit to the club treasury.”
So far so good, although there was a definite “however” in his voice if I’d ever heard one.
“However”, continued the 190SL, “there was a problem, a very serious problem to which the Board must at this time direct its attention.”
Aha - so that was it after all - I could tell by the grins on the faces of the XK150, the E Type and the Elite, by their grins and their genuine Stirling Moss driving gloves lying on the coffee table in front of them. I knew it. The 190SL couldn’t keep up with the Jags, and now as President, he is going to use his power to keep rally speeds down there where even school crossing guards would smile in approval.
“We have discussed this amongst (amongst? - 190SLs should not use words like ‘amongst’ and ‘whilst’) ourselves beforehand. It must be pointed out to you, although we are sure you must realize by now, that you displayed a grave error in judgement by assigning an average speed of 69.9 in a 70mph zone.”
He placed, I thought, a ridiculously large emphasis on the word ‘grave’, and I was beginning to feel more relaxed as the Mark Nine joined in with the XK150 and the Elite in stifling snickers as the stuffy old 190SL continued to pontificate.
“Likewise, 49.9 was entirely too fast a speed to safely maintain on the River Road with it’s prolonged series of ninety-degree turns. It need not be pointed out (the classic introduction for something about to be pointed out - ranks right up there with everyone’s high school principal’s favorite, ‘a word to the wise is sufficient’) that this cannot be tolerated. You are therefore, and with all the generosity due your youth, though it be tempered by the high ideals (the Elite at this point rushed out of the room, hand covering his mouth) of this organization and the good for which it strives, you are forbidden by decree of this board and the powers vested in it, from ever again using an average speed of more than 45mph in any future rally you may organize.”
He cleared his throat and tried to stare me down, but couldn’t as I was watching the XK150, who had escaped to the bar, and was imitating him to the Elite.
“Now I believe some of the others have some comments to make in this regard.”
Things were beginning to get out of control. The E Type spotted the imitation going on at the bar and it so tickled him, he spilled his scotch. He was busy sopping up the spill with the XK150’s genuine Stirling Moss driving gloves when the latter came back to catch him red handed. He promptly snatched the E Type’s Kangol cap and placed it on the head of the now sleeping Facel Vega. The 190SL cleared his throat again, and the XK150 spoke first.
“Another dangerous situation arose”, he began in a basso that was not his, “when you managed to group all the entries into a small pack and had everyone drive three times through that tiny subdivision at 3.2mph. I was the last car in line and by the time I came through the last lap, some guy watering his lawn let me have it. Needless to say, it was indeed, a grave situation.”
He sat down and the E Type stood up, dumping another glass of scotch in the process. The Elite shrieked with glee, there no longer being even a covered pretense of dignity.
The E Type began his speech. “It was most certainly one of the most blatant cases of negligence I’ve ever witnessed,” and he paused, looking over the room with a scowl, “to knowingly, and with malice of forethought, encourage our fine, valued club members, not to mention our guests, to drive at such high speeds, and furthermore, it bordered on criminal, it is my belief, to ask someone to go that fast in an XK150teeheehee.” As he ran for the bar, the Elite jumped up cheering his speech, “Rah, rah,”and even the Alfa joined in the fun. He took a large swallow of his wine and declared that he didn’t really think the speeds were all that high, what with having five forward speeds.
The 190SL was becoming visibly disturbed with what even he could discern as possible mockery. For my part, the merriement and wine were beginning to bolster my spirits and I was astonished to find myself standing; “Perhaps what we need here is to limit future rally entries to those able to drive briskly.”
“Hear, hear!” It was the Elite again. “I thought,” he said, “that it was an absolute stroke of genius to have the entire field pass two times in front of the Third Precinct stationhouse right at inspection time for the new shift.”
The Facel Vega was still not with us, but then it was his house, so I suppose it was all right. There was no longer any semblance of order, people speaking whenever they remembered some amusing anecdote of the event. For some thirty minutes the party continued, but as is always the case, the 190SL finally rapped on the coffee table and brought the meeting back to order.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen. Contain your humor, please. We have a guest with us. He may be getting the impression we are to be frivoled with. Mr. Johnson, have you anything to say?”
“Yes sir.” I stood up straight, but sagged my shoulders and hung my head just enough to satisfy him. “I have plans for another rally which will not have high assigned speeds. I am planning for the April event to run a loop rally. In this event, all entrants will run a simple to follow course at their own chosen speeds. There are to be a number of hidden checkpoints along the way to note their passage. They will arrive at the start line, have a short lunch break and then repeat the morning leg. The winner will be the team who most closely duplicates their morning run.”
“Well, that certainly sounds as though it will be a fine event,” approved the 190SL, “we look forward to it, and appreciate your sincerity in our concerns discussed earlier. Have you anything else to add about your event?”
“Just a few small details. All speedometers and tachometers will be blanked out prior to the event. I have ordered a special trophy for the team turning in the lowest elapsed time, and . . .
I brought all the old Deltagrams to put on display at our Banquet in January, 2008. We really need a club historian to go through all this and catalog them, maybe even transcribe some of the important details like the officers from each year.
Having a graphic design background, I found a great appreciation for the style and quality of the work done in the past. That is a great motivation for me to make the current Deltagram as good as I am capable. Anytime I get stuck, I go back to these old issues and get ideas and inspiration. The Deltagrams are an important part of the Club’s history. They may, in fact, be our only written history from this time period, and should be preserved and shared. When I look back at them, I’m reminded about how important it is to publish the Deltagram regularly. Maybe one day, 50 years from now, someone will find an old box of today’s newsletters and get a big kick out of them. Hopefully, all the Deltgrams that Paul Johnson has shared with us will still be with us, floating around the internet (or whatever it’s called in 50 years).
Thanks to Paul Johnson for sharing all that with us. Our archival project is underway, with the January 1967 issue scanned as a start. I’m sure this project will take years to finish, but eventually done. I’ll keep posting as we get more issues online.
-Benson Young, 2008 Regional Executive, Delta Region, SOWDIV, SCCA
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