- Foreword by A.J. Foyt, Indy 500 winner and IRL team owner - Preface by Mari Hulman George, Chair person, Indianapolis Motor Speedway With his signature Texas flag painted on his helmet, Johnny "J.R." Rutherford captured the hearts of racing fans all over the world during his stellar three-decade career. A versatile driver, he is world renowned for his record-breaking successes in the ultra-competitive world of Indy and Sprint cars. In Lone Star J.R., Johnny himself takes us on an exciting drive through his life and gives us a behind-the-scenes look at the racing world. Born in Coffeyville, Kansas, in 1938, John Sherman Rutherford III did his duty in the U.S. Marine Corps for six years before beginning his legendary racing career in Texas. After overcoming a serious accident in 1966, in which he suffered two broken arms, he began to achieve his greatest success. J.R. relives his historic Indianapolis 500 wins (in 1974, 1976, and 1980) and explains the allure and excitement of racing in this personal look back at his storied racing career. A true sportsman, always generous with his time, this racing legend has become one of the greatest ambassadors the sport has ever known. In Lone Star J.R., the man himself explains how and why he has come to be one of the sport's most celebrated legends. Book size is 6" x 9", with 60 B&W photographs throughout book. Rutherford was a very successful Indy style race car driver during the 1970s and 1980s. Among his many triumphs were three wins in the Indianapolis 500, historically the most prestigious race in America. This is his engaging account of the events and highlights of his life and career; more than that, though, it also describes what motivated him as a driver and as a person, and it truly conveys the love that he had for his decades of racing. Despite this being a compilation of reminiscences, there is continuity throughout, and the book reads very well, highlighted by descriptive passages that seem to capture the feelings, smells, and adrenaline rushes of driving a race car. Rutherford may not be well known to many current racing fans, but because of his prominence in the sport, this would make a good addition to libraries with racing history collections, especially those in Rutherford!s adopted state of Texas."David Van de Streek, Pennsylvania State Univ. Lib.,York Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. Lone Star J.R. The Autobiography of Racing Legend Johnny Rutherford By Johnny Rutherford, David Craft Triumph Books Copyright © 2000 Johnny Rutherford and David Craft All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-57243-353-3 Contents Foreword by A.J. Foyt, Preface by Mari Hulman George, Introductions by Johnny Rutherford and David Craft, 1. Quitting Was Never an Option, 2. Many Friends, Too Many Places, 3. The First Step, 4. On My Own, 5. My Scuffling Days, 6. Brickyard Bound, 7. Daytona Was a Phone Call Away, 8. Betty, 9. Fireball in My Face, 10. The Win at Atlanta, 11. Sprint to the Championship, 12. My Comeback after Eldora, 13. Heartbreak, Hope, and Hospital Food, 14. Winning Was Everything -For a Few Weeks, 15. A Step Closer to Victory, 16. New Start for an Old Hand, 17. My First Swig of Milk, 18. After "the 500", 19. Walking to Victory Lane, 20. Crash the Yank!, 21. Check, Please, 22. Putting the CART before the Horsepower, 23. Ladybug on My Shoulder, 24. Broken Belt Drives and Broken Bones, 25. It Was Time, 26. Leaving Gasoline Alley, 27. Life after Racing, Appendix 1. Racers, Rivals, Friends, Appendix 2. Career Highlights, Photo Gallery, CHAPTER 1 Quitting Was Never an Option April 3, 1966, was "Johnny Rutherford Day" at Eldora Speedway, and the track officials found me slumped over in my car with my hands in my lap. I was a mess: my goggles were down around my mouth and my flip shield was hanging off the back of my helmet. At least that's what they told me later. I don't remember anything, because after it happened I was in a daze. As I came to, I could hear the rocks being kicked up by the guys leaping over the guardrail and running down the embankment toward me. I can even remember the voice of the first man who reached me, my old friend, Roy Reed. "John! John! Are you okay?!" Confused and groaning, I somehow mumbled, "I think my arms are broken. They hurt like hell, and I can't see." Because of all the ruptured surface blood vessels in my head, I had temporarily lost my vision. It felt as if a couple of handfuls of sand had been thrown into my eyes. My eyes were irritated and every time I blinked it hurt, so I kept them closed as best I could. The guys unhooked my belts and started to pull me from the car so they could lay me on a stretcher. It was a heck of a way to celebrate a day in my honor. There I was, the reigning United States Auto Club's National Sprint Car Champion of 1965, carrying the number "1" on my car for the 1966 season, and I was being carried out on a stretcher while