Moment at ‘Bernies’

I had seen a news report that ‘they’ had stolen the wheels off of ‘his’ car, and then just left it up on blocks ‘Detroit style’, it must’ve shocked many around the world, it sure shocked me. It was a special type of car, maybe a ‘prototype’, the wheels would not have even fit on that same exact model of Mercedes, if and when it ever came off an assembly line. And to top it all, this incident actually happened right in front of the man’s house, in London, England, a modest abode near downtown.

Around that same time my bicycle was stolen from the back porch of my apartment building, in Windsor, Ontario, the 15^th bike stolen from me in 25 + years of living back in Southern Ontario, Canada.

I love cars, my favorite was the 1976 Toyota Celica, that I souped up and could beat Corvettes off the line, from stop sign to stop sign, in Orange County, California, where I lived throughout the 80s. The expressions on the driver, and any passenger’s face he might’ve had, during those drag strip encounters, was always one of shock and disbelief. And if he had a girl along, it was even more fun to beat him!

Back home, in Southern Ontario, through the 90’s, I owned other cars like a few Chevy Cavaliers, a Ford Granada, and a 1995 Chevy Berretta. I cried when the wrecker took it away, after driving and working on it for 10 years. It had cooling issues that I could never quite figure out. Years later a mechanic pal told me “you have to change your coolant every few years, eh.” That car provided me with income during that time, in between tickets from an overzealous Windsor, Ontario, police force. They just couldn’t seem to understand my Formula One-like driving ability, and ticketed me relentlessly. But I have respect for the law, after all, who you gonna call when a hippie breaks into your house, or car; a hippie?

I had met Sir Frank Williams at a gas station, near London, Ontario, in 2004, on my way back from the F1 race in Montreal, VIA Windsor, to the next race at Indy the following weekend. I got my photo taken with him by his rented Ford Taurus, and then wrote a 9 page story about it that I later sent to him. He really enjoyed it, and invited me to a meet and greet the following year, at Indy, for the F1 weekend! In the paddock I met many F1 personalities, all fairly nice and friendly, and most took the time and chatted with me a bit about racing, our mutual passion. It was a very hot weekend, and I had many blisters on both feet from all the walking in Montreal. Gordon, Sir Franks P.A., kept offering me beers whenever I told him that I should leave; time had gone way past the 20-30 minutes Sir Frank had said the visit would last. I was fairly buzzed, when later on Gordon said that Sir Frank wanted to talk with me again.

I was wandering around the garages when all of a sudden, right in front of me, a door opened, and out strolled a sharp dressed Bernie Ecclestone!  I humbly introduced myself to the head chief of Formula One. He shook my hand and agreed to a photo of the two of us. As we walked for a short while I told him I had read about his stolen wheels, and offered my sympathies, I also told him about my latest stolen bicycle. What impressed me most was that he was genuinely warm, and sincere, a natural communicator. He leaned in and replied, in a voice just loud enough for only me to hear, and it always gives me a smile when I think about it:  “f*#king thieves!”

Since Bernie has left Formula One it seems all the magic is gone, along with the Grid Girls.

Bernie sends me Xmas cards, loves my stories and said “don’t give up!”