Roberson - Middletown Pacemakers: the story of an Ohio hot rod club

Few things are harder to put up with than the annoyance of a good example.

- Mark Twain

M y father, Wilbur Robbie Roberson, was born on the family farm near Ezel, Kentucky, on November 16, 1923. He was the oldest of Loren and Addie Robersons three children, and as such would inherit many chores and odd jobs in the family business ventures. Grandpa Loren owned the familys 162-acre farm, including a white frame house and a barn, in a rustic setting with a creek running near the house complete with a small wooden bridge and picturesque waterfall. But Grandpa Loren was not a farmer and preferred to rent out the farm acreage, save for the family garden. He pursued other vocations, which included ownership of a small country grocery store and the buying and selling of tobacco grown in the area. Toward both of these ends he owned a 3/4-ton, Chevrolet stake bed truck, which also hauled livestock between tobacco and produce runs. He was a crafty businessman, whose anything-for-a-buck ambition would lead the family ably through the countrys worst depression in the 1930s.

Dad grew up in those poverty stricken times. The family farm kept them in food, and the family business maintained a meager cash flow, but there were few luxuries. By the age of 13, he was driving the family truck, the aforementioned 1935 Chevy, and the family car, a 1935 Ford sedan. He first demonstrated a natural mechanical aptitude working on these vehicles and on a bicycle he hand built from bartered parts. The Great Depression bred a wonderful self-sufficiency that has never again been seen in any generation that followed. To survive, you had to be able to do things. Women made the familys clothing and canned homegrown foods for the winter. The children were assigned chores to match their level of skill. It was a time that bred hardy people.

Dads one luxury was an occasional trip to the movie theater in nearby West Liberty. Wide-eyed, he would watch the cowboy double features, the Flash Gordon serials, and the comedy of Laurel and Hardy. But one Saturday in 1935, he saw a newsreel that would capture his imagination and ultimately change the course of his life. The flickering black and white images of Malcolm Campbells Bluebird land speed record car zipping along the sandy surface of Ormond and Daytona Beach at an average speed of 276 mph made a lasting impression on the 11-year-old Kentucky farm boy. Daytona, with its white sandy beaches, seemed so exotic. The handsome Englishman seemed so brave. The sleek racecar looked so futuristic. It was a world he had never seen before, and a fascination with speed was born. Later that year, Campbell would set another record of 301 mph, this time on the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah. The newsreels followed Campbells progress, and Dad eagerly watched his British hero. A high performance seed was planted that would last a lifetime.