Dispatch from KDMH, Carbondale, Illinois: The carefully arranged chairs in the giant hangar are in disarray, hurriedly pushed and pulled to either side, parted like the Red Sea to make room to bring Les Burrill’s wounded bird— Race 11 — in out of the baking sun.
A small cluster of racers gathers around the green and silver plane, pulling off the cowling a piece at a time.
At Turn Four over the Grand Tower Bridge on the Mighty Mississippi, the Midget Mustang’s alternator belt broke. Burrill saw smoke, aborted, and returned to race central. [Read more…]