Driving a third Tyrrell was Chris Amon, who indeed found it
twitchy, particularly through the quick uphill esses. “You had
to be very much onthe r ight linethere, and, like Jackie, I found
it better to use fourth [gear], rather than third, because the car
was more settled. I was flat through there about three times in
five, but judging by histimes, François was flat every lap – and I
subsequently learned thathe was using third...”
Six minutes remained when Cevert’s car glancedthe barrier at
the top of theesses, then spear ed across thetrack into the guardrail
on the left, which split aparton impact. Several drivers stoppedat
the scene. “Chris was there whenI arrived,”said St ewart. “I knew
from all theblue it was aTyrr ell, andthought it was he who’d had
the accide nt. I said,‘Are you OK?’, but hejust sho ok his head – and
then I knewit was François. Itwas a shocking sight, andI’vea lways
regrett ed that I didn’t stay longer with him. That might sound an
odd thing tosay – I kn ew he wa s dead – b ut it was something Ifelt .”
Eye-witnesses said that Cevert had run wide at the right-hander
at the bottom of theesses, which put him off-line into the left:
apparently he never lifted, and at the exitskimmed the barrier,
then pitched across the road.
“Of course wewithdrew,” said Stewart, “but the mechanics were
concerned that something had broken on the car. I was sure I
knew what had happened, but they were so distressed I felt, even
knowing I was never going to race again, I had to go out in the
afternoon, to show that I had confidence in the car.
“Helen had gone back to the GlenMotor Inn with Norah Tyrrell.
I went there after my run in thecar, andit was then that I said
to her, ‘I’m no longer a racing driver’. How she coped with that
much emotion in one day I’ll never know – she’d had to clear up
François’s room, just as she’d done for Piers and for Jochen. In
those daysthe girls went through more than the men, I think.”cleared, and I thought, ‘Oh, Christ...’ I said
to the nurse, ‘Is everything all right with
Mr Cevert?’ ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘he’s on the
balcony, smoking...’ The relief wefelt!”
The Stewarts had planned a break
between the races, and invited a limping
Cevert to join them. “At first he said, ‘No,
no, it’s your holiday’, but we persuaded
him, and I’ll always be glad we did.
“In Bermuda I’d booked a place called
the Ocean Reef Club. In the dining room
there was a piano, and François got up
to play – he was asuperb pianist, and
had been classicallytrained. He started
off with ragtimestuff, and no one took
much notice, but then he played his
favourite piece, which was Beethoven’s
‘Pathetique’ Sonata, and the whole place
was mesmerised. They applauded like mad- after that he hadto do it every night!
“François told me he’d had an offer from Ferrari, and I said,
‘Well, that’s good, but you don’t have to decide until the season’s
over – I think you shouldsta y with Ken’.”
By the time they got to the Glen Cevert was feeling fit again.
He adored this circuit on which he had won, and was right on the
pace, vying with Ronnie Peterson for fastest time on Saturday
morning. Towards the end ofthe session hewent out one last time.
Although successful, that year’s Tyrrell– with an ultra-short
wheelbase – was not easy todrive. “I was fighting for the title with
Emerson [Fittipaldi],” said Stewart, “and I remember him saying, ‘I
don’t know how you drive that car.’ He was right: it was a handful.”
Cevert was always willingto listento Stewart (above) andtook
his first F1 podium behindJYS in the 1971 French GP (below)HE WAS ABSOLUTELY
UNPRENTENTIOUS
AND GENUINE –
NOT AT ALL
INFATUATED WITH
HIMSELF, WHICH
SO MANY PEOPLE
LIKE THAT ARE
JACKIESTEWART“
”
Driving a third Tyrrell was Chris Amon, who indeed found it
twitchy, particularly through the quick uphill esses. “You had
to be very much onthe r ight linethere, and, like Jackie, I found
it better to use fourth [gear], rather than third, because the car
was more settled. I was flat through there about three times in
five, but judging by histimes, François was flat every lap – and I
subsequently learned thathe was using third...”
Six minutes remained when Cevert’s car glancedthe barrier at
the top of theesses, then spear ed across thetrack into the guardrail
on the left, which split aparton impact. Several drivers stoppedat
the scene. “Chris was there whenI arrived,”said St ewart. “I knew
from all theblue it was aTyrr ell, andthought it was he who’d had
the accide nt. I said,‘Are you OK?’, but hejust sho ok his head – and
then I knewit was François. Itwas a shocking sight, andI’vea lways
regrett ed that I didn’t stay longer with him. That might sound an
odd thing tosay – I kn ew he wa s dead – b ut it was something Ifelt .”
Eye-witnesses said that Cevert had run wide at the right-hander
at the bottom of theesses, which put him off-line into the left:
apparently he never lifted, and at the exitskimmed the barrier,
then pitched across the road.
“Of course wewithdrew,” said Stewart, “but the mechanics were
concerned that something had broken on the car. I was sure I
knew what had happened, but they were so distressed I felt, even
knowing I was never going to race again, I had to go out in the
afternoon, to show that I had confidence in the car.
“Helen had gone back to the GlenMotor Inn with Norah Tyrrell.
I went there after my run in thecar, andit was then that I said
to her, ‘I’m no longer a racing driver’. How she coped with that
much emotion in one day I’ll never know – she’d had to clear up
François’s room, just as she’d done for Piers and for Jochen. In
those daysthe girls went through more than the men, I think.”cleared, and I thought, ‘Oh, Christ...’ I said
to the nurse, ‘Is everything all right with
Mr Cevert?’ ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘he’s on the
balcony, smoking...’ The relief wefelt!”
The Stewarts had planned a break
between the races, and invited a limping
Cevert to join them. “At first he said, ‘No,
no, it’s your holiday’, but we persuaded
him, and I’ll always be glad we did.
“In Bermuda I’d booked a place called
the Ocean Reef Club. In the dining room
there was a piano, and François got up
to play – he was asuperb pianist, and
had been classicallytrained. He started
off with ragtimestuff, and no one took
much notice, but then he played his
favourite piece, which was Beethoven’s
‘Pathetique’ Sonata, and the whole place
was mesmerised. They applauded like mad
- after that he hadto do it every night!
“François told me he’d had an offer from Ferrari, and I said,
‘Well, that’s good, but you don’t have to decide until the season’s
over – I think you shouldsta y with Ken’.”
By the time they got to the Glen Cevert was feeling fit again.
He adored this circuit on which he had won, and was right on the
pace, vying with Ronnie Peterson for fastest time on Saturday
morning. Towards the end ofthe session hewent out one last time.
Although successful, that year’s Tyrrell– with an ultra-short
wheelbase – was not easy todrive. “I was fighting for the title with
Emerson [Fittipaldi],” said Stewart, “and I remember him saying, ‘I
don’t know how you drive that car.’ He was right: it was a handful.”
Cevert was always willingto listento Stewart (above) andtook
his first F1 podium behindJYS in the 1971 French GP (below)
HE WAS ABSOL
UNPRENTENT
AND GENUINE –
NOT AT ALL
INFATUATED WITH
HIMSELF, WHICH
SO MANY PEOPLE
LIKE THAT ARE
JACKIESTEWART”