THE WALL STREET JOURNAL. Friday, August 2, 2019 |M5
them on your own.
Before long, I borrowed $1,500
from the bank to buy my first
midget car and go out on my own.
I had married Lucy by then. It
wasn’t easy for me on the road.
Many nights I slept in the back
seat of my car and washed up in
gas stations.
My big break came in 1957.
Clint Brawner hired me to drive
his race car after seeing me win a
sprint-car race at Salem Speed-
way. He figured if I could run on
that track, I could run Indy.
The first time I qualified for
the Indy 500 was in 1958. I was
the fastest rookie qualifier but
spun out on lap 149 when the wa-
ter hose came off the radiator. Irelate to what I was trying to do.
I started racing when I was
around 6 at Houston’s Buffalo Sta-
dium. My father built me a small
red-and-white baby midget car
with No. 8 on it, the same number
used by my favorite Houston
driver, Doc Cossey. The event’s
promoter staged a two-lap race
between us. Doc let me win, but I
didn’t know it at the time.
When I got my own car as a
teenager, I began street racing with
friends. I was motivated to be first
in everything. Cars let me be me.
The first time I raced a midget
car was when I was 18. What I
loved about racing was that ev-
erythingwasonyou.Whatever
mistakes you made, you madeW
henIwas15,myfa-
thergavemeanew
1950 two-door black
Ford to work on. I
souped it up so the car was really
fast—so fast that I could outrun
the cops in the West University
section of Houston.
Three weeks later, the police
there summoned me to the sta-
tion. They asked me about the
Ford. I told them someone must
have stolen it and was speeding.
The officers said they talked to
my friends and knew all about it. I
said, “Well, just put me in reform
school then, ’cause I know what
my daddy is going to do to me
when he comes to get me.”
When my father picked me up,
the officers told him that he had a
good boy and that they’d let me
go provided he didn’t lay a hand
on me.
On the drive home, daddy was
furious. He said, “Boy, you’re
grounded for one year. You’re
gonna work at my auto shop ev-
ery day after school at 3:30.”
And that’s how it went for a
year. I learned a lot from the me-
chanics who worked for him. In the
long run, being punished paid off.
I was born in Houston and
grew up in the Heights. We lived
in a 1,300-square-foot, two-bed-
room house. My sister, Marlene,
arrived when I was 4. We were
close when we were little but we
had less and less in common as
we grew up.
My father, Tony, had a small
auto shop in the back. He was a
mechanic, and a good one. He also
was tough, a straight arrow who
didn’t put up with anything. If
daddy liked you, he liked you. If
he didn’t, he’d tell you right away.
One day, when I was little, my
parents went to Dallas. I got my
father’s midget car out of the ga-
rage. My friends helped push-start
it. I tore up the yard pretty good
running laps. When I stopped and
cut off the engine, it backfired.
The carburetors caught on fire
and burned the paint off the hood.
Daddy was fuming. I heard my
momma, Evelyn, say, “He’s just a
kid, don’t worry about it. He got
the racing bug from you.”
I was shocked daddy didn’t
give me a whupping right then.
What saved me was that he could
SCOTT JULIAN FOR THE WALL STREET JOURNAL (2); FOYT FAMILY (CENTER)HOUSE CALL|A.J. FOYT
AWilltoBetheFastest
The former race-car champ experienced his first competitive thrill at age 6
finished in 16th place. Then in
1961, I won.
Seeing that checkered flag as I
came down the front stretch was
an unbelievable feeling. The win-
ner’s circle, with that wreath of
white and red flowers and little
checkered flags around my neck,
and Lucy right there beside me,
was one of the best days of my
life. I was 26.
Today, Lucy, and I live in a com-
fortable, spacious house we built in
the River Oaks section of Houston.
I also spend time at my ranches in
Hockley and Del Rio, Texas.
I still have my daddy’s tool-
boxes. Even now, when I take out
a tool, I make sure to put it back
right away. I feel like my daddy is
still looking over me.
—As told to Marc MyersA.J. Foyt, 84, is a retired race-car
driver and current IndyCar team
owner who was the first to win
the Indianapolis 500 four times.
He also is the only driver to win
the Indianapolis 500, the Daytona
500 and the 24 Hours of Le Mans.A.J. Foyt at his Hockley, Texas, ranch,
top, and with his father in 1953, above.Best father lesson:“If it’s
worth doing, do it right or don’t
do it at all.”
Favorite food:Fried chicken
Location of four winning Indy
cars:Indianapolis Motor Speed-
way MuseumRace cars you own:“The one
I drove to qualify at the 1991
Indy 500 and my last-lap car the
day I retired from Indy in 1993”
Winning mantra:“All the driv-
ers are excellent. The difference
is having the will to beat them.”
Current vehicles:Ford F350
Platinum pickup truck, a Chevy
Suburban and a Mercedes GL
550 SUVFOYT’S FAVES
MANSION
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