First IMS Race was Unique

First appeared on May 6th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Few took note in March of 1909 when a group of investors led by Carl Fisher bought some farmland northwest of Indianapolis. Considering Indy was home to several car makers and seemed poised to be the manufacturing Mecca Detroit would ultimately become, the idea was to build an automobile testing ground. Little could the men have known what they would spawn in building their 2 ½ mile oval.
Though cars would eventually define IMS, the first race held at the “Indianapolis Motor Speed Grounds” as the Lebanon Patriot called them, had nothing to do with the automobile at all. With airplanes still in their infancy flight was most common via balloon and, thanks to international events like the Gordon Bennett, ballooning was quickly becoming fashionable. So it stood to reason when Carl Fisher announced the first event at his new speedway would be a balloon race many believed he was christening her well.
What is not widely known about that first event is that Boone County actually played a role. This was not solely because several citizens were on hand to witness it, but rather on a trial run to prepare for the race Fisher’s balloon actually landed on Addison Howard’s farm in Marion Township.
On a side note the summer of 1909 in Boone County was quite eventful. Not only did residents vote overwhelmingly to keep the county dry, a train robbery on the line connecting Colfax and Thorntown also had people buzzing. Still, despite the sophisticated reputation marking the era, many rural folk had never seen a balloon before and during their first encounter it was not uncommon for many to run inside their homes only to come out with rifles firing skyward.
Because Fisher had managed to attract competitors from all over the country, his event was touted as a National Championship Long Distance Race. Forty thousand turned out on June 5th as, under what the Lebanon Pioneer recorded as “favorable circumstances”, the aeronauts inflated their gas bags in preparation for flight. The greenish yellow New York and Fisher’s bright blue Indiana rose in contrast to the powder white clouds peppering the June sky. Though the grape red Chicago towered over them all as the tallest entry, nobody could outshine the Indianapolis and her pearl white, almost transparent bag.
Amidst thunderous applause from gentlemen sporting bowlers and women in ankle length skirts the “magic carpets”, as the Lebanon Reporter called them, lifted skyward one at a time in five minute intervals. Most reported smooth sailing, though one crew did duck death over Kentucky by dodging gunfire (shocking I know).
Gunfire from spooked farmhands aside, one of the most dangerous parts of piloting balloons at the turn of the century was the Grasshopper. These pesky devils often ate holes in the bags when they were spread out in the grass the night before a race. Admittedly I know next to nothing about balloon racing, but even I can deduct the team racing one with holes in it is most likely to lose.
While the Cleveland’s run wasn’t long (Brown County), the rest of the competitors managed to make it out of the state with some landing as far away as Alabama. So it was a grand race gave birth to a grand legend. Just a short two months later the familiar rumble of pistons and rubber would be heard echoing out of the brickyard as cars raced for the first time at IMS. This singular event would of course set the Speedway on a path to the starstruck destiny Hoosiers all have come to know after 100 years.