Drivers Killed During The Indy 500

Few things are more American than the Indy 500: It's even held on Memorial Day weekend. Throw in some burgers, pulled pork, and BBQ sandwiches, a few cases of Bud Light, and end the day with some fireworks, and it's safe to say that it's almost aggressively American. And that? That just makes the death-defying spectacle all that more impressive.

The Indianapolis Motor Speedway wasn't originally built as a racetrack but was instead used to test cars. It was only a few years after the track's construction in 1909 that someone said, "Let's do it faster, bigger, better, and with more..." and the Indy 500 was born. It's not all fun and games, though, and part of the nail-biting excitement is knowing that tragedy could strike at any moment, turning the race from a celebration of automobile engineering and driver reflexes into gruesome final moments. 

Interestingly, there's a bit of trivia here, too. The turns are built the same, but it's the first one that has a bit of a reputation. Drivers have said it's one of the most intimidating pieces of track in the sport, and have cited everything from strange shadows to differences that are all but imperceptible ... until you're rocketing along at 230 mph. Driver Scott Sharp described it to The Wall Street Journal: "It looks narrower. You feel the car load up. It feels like you're on a knife's edge." Terrifying? It is: And some drivers have paid for the sport with their lives.

The 1919 Indy 500 marked the race's return in a post-World War I world, and there was no photo finish: The winner crossed the line a full four minutes ahead of the second-place driver. Still, the excitement was marred not only by the death of driver Arthur Thurman but the subsequent deaths of another driver and his mechanic.

And it was graphically awful. According to Motorsport Memorial, Louis LeCocq's Dusenberg literally exploded when he and mechanic Robert Bandini were on the 97th lap of the race. The force of the explosion flipped the car, and the two men — who were strapped into their seats — were trapped beneath the burning car.

When The New York Times reported on the race, it ended up being a fascinating look into the sensibilities of a war-weary generation. They wrote: "The accident to Thurman did not cause them to diminish their speed and the crowd, at first horror-stricken, settled down to witness the finish of the long grind." That, they say, is when LeCocq's car exploded — likely due to the stress of taking a turn too fast. The report continued: "The flaming gasoline, which was sent in all directions when the tank of Lecocq's (sic) car exploded, was picked up by some of the racing cars and carried to several parts of the speedway." The race, meanwhile, continued, leaving rescue crews to fight the flames ... and dodge the racing cars.

There are some years that are worse than others, and that's pretty much true of life across the board. As far as the Indy 500 is concerned, 1933 was a very, very bad year that started with two deaths during the qualification races. Bill Denver and his mechanic Bob Hurst died during one of those races, and by the time the year's event was over, a total of five people would be dead.

Mark Billman's death was the sort of thing most people would hesitate to wish on their worst enemy. The Indy Motor Speedway's memorial section describes Billman's Indy 500 run as "masterful," and for a while, it was. He was 80 laps into the race when he lost control, hit one wall, then crossed the track to hit the other wall with so much force that his car took out part of the concrete barrier. Billman was thrown from the car, which then bounced and came down to land on him. (His mechanic was thrown clear and survived.)

Depending on the sources, his left arm was either torn off in the crash or amputated as rescue workers labored to free him from where he was trapped between his car and the concrete barrier. Suffering from massive internal injuries and multiple broken bones, he survived for less than an hour after the horrific crash.

The irony surrounding the 1935 death of Clay Weatherly is far from lost. For starters, that was the year that new safety features — like traffic lights and helmet requirements — were added to the Indy Motor Speedway. Still, what followed was a race that led to the deaths of four people over the course of qualifiers and the actual race itself. 

Things first went badly during a practice run for driver Johnny Hannon and mechanic Oscar Reeves. The practice run was critical for him, and several experienced drivers stressed the importance of adjusting to the difference between racing on dirt and on brick. On Hannon's first lap, he lost control, smashed through a concrete wall, and he was thrown from the vehicle. Suffering massive injuries including a crushed skull and chest, he died almost immediately. His mechanic was hospitalized for severe injuries.

Now, on to the arrival of a driver named Clay Weatherly. It was going to be his first time competing, but he had a massive problem: He didn't have a car. Weatherly approached the owner of the car that Hannon had died in, and it was agreed that the car would be rebuilt — in a matter of days — and Weatherly would drive it in the official race. Just 10 laps in, Weatherly lost control, plowed through one wall, hit another, and died of injuries that included a crushed skull and chest — just like the previous driver. Like the previous mechanic, his was also hospitalized for spinal injuries but survived.

All deaths on the track of the Indy 500 are tragic, terrible, and heartbreaking, but the 1947 fatal accident that claimed the life of driver Shortly Cantlon was the sort of thing that makes even the most cynical person believe in some otherworldly power that makes things happen in our everyday lives.

As the Indy Motor Speedway notes, Cantlon was no stranger to speed: He set a world speed record in California, hitting a then-unheard-of 144.89 mph. Still, technology wasn't quite what it is in the 21st century: When Cantlon started his Indy 500 race, his car — the Automobile Shippers Special — actually stalled a few times before he got going. That meant a wildly challenging course ahead, but in a testament to his driving skills, he was actually coming up on the leader by the 41st lap. That, unfortunately, is when tragedy struck.

Driver Bill Holland's car suddenly spun wildly, and Cantlon was faced with a decision: Hit Holland, or hit the wall. Sources vary on what happened next: He either died on impact with the wall, or shortly after he was pulled from his wrecked car. Either way, his car wasn't removed from the course, and sat there — a horrifying reality check for the other drivers — for the remainder of the race. As for Holland, he placed second after waving his teammate ahead of him, thinking he was a lap ahead.

Bill Vukovich's story is pretty incredible: Born to a poor family of Yugoslavian immigrants, he grew up on a farm during the Great Depression, worked as a mechanic during World War II, and became determined to make racing the way he paid the bills (via ESPN).

By the time Sports Illustrated sat down with him before the 1955 Indy 500, he had already won twice — including the notorious, 130-degree race in 1953 that claimed the life of Carl Scarborough. Vukovich finished — alone, with no relief driver. He won again in 1954, and in 1955, he died. Reporter John Bentley would write about how drivers had "boosted the average speed ... beyond all reason. In 1946 it was 114.8 mph; last year nearly 131. This year," he continued, "it killed Bill Vukovich." Bentley was there and described the crash as starting with Roger Ward flipping his car, then causing a chain reaction of other drivers swerving, colliding, and flipping, all at high speed. Then, there came Vukovich: He hit another car, went over a guard rail, flipped several times, hit three vehicles parked alongside the track, and pinned him beneath what was left of his car ... which then burst into flames.

Vukovich was 35 years old at the time of his death, and his wife was in the stands, watching as another driver, Ed Elisian, stopped to try to help. Vukovich would be immortalized for his description of what it takes to win: "Keep your foot on the throttle and turn left."

A terrible accident on the second lap of 1964's Indy 500 claimed the lives of two drivers, Dave MacDonald and Eddie Sachs. Both were big names: Sachs was celebrated as the so-called Clown Prince of Racing, while MacDonald had been behind the wheel when Carroll Shelby's Cobras first started racking up their wins. If he'd lived, he would have been headed to Le Mans — his place was reserved, and he was ready to go.

Whatever happened that day, happened fast — and it's not entirely agreed upon. The widely accepted story is that MacDonald brushed the wall, sparking a failure in his fuel system. Gasoline spewed, then caught on fire. MacDonald lost control, collided with Sachs, and the following fireball burned so big and so black that spectators couldn't even tell how many cars were involved. Driver Bobby Unser was quoted (via IndyStar) as saying, "The whole track was blocked with fire. I didn't know if it was one burning car or 10. It looked like 10."

Around 300,000 people were on hand to witness the crash, including the wives of both drivers killed. Several other drivers were badly burned, including rookie driver Ronnie Duman, and the incident opened a massive discussion on the safety of the cars designed to not only hit top speeds but carry a lot of very flammable fuel.