Although he will probably be remembered mainly for a contrasting pair of Indycar accomplishments, Jerry Grant was yet another of the American all-rounders who could, and would, drive virtually any kind of car. After a tour of duty as chauffeur for the head of NORAD Command in Colorado, the Washington state native tackled drag racing, but after tiring of simply going straight he turned to road racing and began carving out his reputation. Whether in the USRRC, Can-Am, Trans-Am, World Sports Cars, Stockers, or Indycars, Grant was a man to be reckoned with at the front of the grid. He possessed an unshakable faith in his own ability, confidence that remains evident in retrospect. Much of his success came in cars entered by Dan Gurney’s All American Racers, including the two alluded to above, nearly winning the 1972 Indy 500 and becoming the first man in history to turn an official lap at more than 200 mph. Upon stepping out of the cockpit, Grant ran the Champion Spark Plug Company’s motor sports program while also serving as an ambassador for the company. He recently sat down with VR Associate Editor John Zimmermann to talk about his life in the sport.
What drew you to cars and racing them?
Grant: I was always a hot rodder. I was a mechanical engineer by schooling, but never had a job as an engineer. That helped me, though, all through my career. I started driving when I was 13 or 14. My dad, who was a traveling salesman, would come and pick me up—he and mom were divorced, and she raised me—and take me out on his route; we’d go to Montana and Idaho and Wyoming, and along the way he taught me how to drive—taught me things that I do today.
How did you first get involved in racing?
Grant: I started drag racing. My first car was a ’37 Buick two-door sedan with one of those big old straight eights, which was their best engine, and dual carburetors. I put a low rear end in it—which nobody had done—because all the Fords were dropping down to 4.11s and 4.44s. That was my first drag race car. Shortly thereafter, I went to a ’40 Ford coupe. I did a lot of drag racing with it, and then I began organizing road racing at the airport—Arlington, a military field up by Everett (Wash.) that isn’t there anymore—where we drag raced, because I got tired of going in a straight line.
How were you received when you showed up to road race your ’40 Ford?
Grant: The guy who ran the SCCA in the Northwest in those days was Tom Cartsens, who was the first Porsche dealer in Washington. He had the Cad-Allard that Art Pollard drove. They didn’t like me much because I was a hot rodder who got sideways a lot and didn’t really fit in, so they weren’t going to let me race, but Tom said, “Let the kid race.” I had a locked rear end with a 4.44 ratio in that ’40, and a big flathead, bored and stroked. I would always lead from the start of the race, but I’d go about three laps, lose my brakes, and they’d go blowing by me on both sides. Then I decided I needed something better, so I sold my ’40 and got a ’32 Ford roadster. I put a Chevy in it and I went road racing with that. Again, I would always be leading the races when something would go out, usually the brakes. Eventually we got it so there was air going to the brakes and I won some races in that car.
When you finally moved out of hot rods, what was your first “real” sports car?
Grant: A guy named Dick Hahn came along and asked me if I wanted to drive his Kurtis that Ray Crawford had driven in the Mexican Road Race. It was Ford powered, but Dick was the Chrysler dealer for the Northwest, so he got a Hemi and put it in it. Racer Brown, who was a drag racer down in California, built our engines and ground the cams for it. We led everything, but blew up every time! We hadn’t learned that when the oil temperature got to 300 that was all she wrote! Eventually I started getting asked by other people to drive their cars. That was before you had to have money or be born with a golden spoon in your mouth, but Dick didn’t want to let me go, so he said, “What do you want to drive?” At that time Ferrari was always on my mind, so I told him I wanted to drive a Ferrari. Turns out there was this 250 Testa Rossa for sale, so he said, “O.K., we’ll buy the Ferrari.”
For the whole story, see the March issue of Vintage Racecar.
