Last Updated on January 7, 2023 by CCAR Staff
When the Indianapolis 500 race is over Sunday and the winner has his picture on sports pages and on TV, the runner-up will be forgotten.
It happens to second place all the time, After all, who was the second flier to cross the Atlantic after Lindburgh or the runner-up when Roger Bannister broke the 4-minute mile? It’s hard to believe anybody will remember the also-rans in this year’s primary election campaigns.
Such was the burden of Harry Hartz, who in his heyday was one of the top automobile drivers in the world. Born in Pomona, he won many races and broke speed records but driving in the Indianapolis 500 proved a bit of a jinx for him.
From 1922 to 1927, Hartz was one of the top drivers on the Indy track on Memorial Day weekend — five times starting in the front row. But he just couldn’t cross the finish line in front. He was runner-up three times and fourth two other times.
It even happened to him before he got behind the wheel. In 1919, at a time when drivers carried a mechanic with them in the cars, Hartz was the riding mechanic for Eddie Hearne who, naturally, finished second at Indy.
Hartz eventually did figure out the Indy 500, which marks its 100th running this weekend. After he retired from driving, he owned cars that won at Indy in 1930 and 1932 (and, of course, was second in 1931).
The story about Hartz and his early connection with Pomona is a bit cloudy. He was born there in 1896, but there is little information as to whether he spent any time locally. Family trees on Ancestry.com further complicate things because they list his father and mother as Frank and Ella Valdez, whose birth dates make them too young to be his birth parents. Perhaps he was adopted, but the record is incomplete.
Growing up in Southern California, young Harry learned there was something he loved best of all: driving fast. As a teenager, he built a baby car, also known as a cycle car, powered by a motorcycle engine, and immediately started winning races at tracks in Culver City and other California ovals.
Hartz was being called a “boy wonder” for his successes on the track with the small cars. A 1922 article in the Oakland Tribune said he never lost a race.
Between racing, he held a dull job as an office boy at the Los Angeles office of Studebaker Corp. Paul Hoffman, a vice president of Studebaker, noted working in an office was hardly Hartz’s greatest interest.
“Whenever we wanted Hartz he was more than likely to be found trying to persuade one of our drivers to let him handle a car,” he told a reporter in 1927.
His mechanical skills come in handy during World War I when he left Studebaker and worked as an aircraft mechanic for Wright-Martin Airplane Co. in Los Angeles.
Both his mechanical ability and aggressive driving brought him lots of notice, with him eventually joining up with Hearne at Indy. At 25, he got his own car and continued raising eyebrows all over the racing world.
“Harry was a sensation at the time,” said auto driver Arthur Johnson, recalling first seeing him race at the age of 17.
“The old fellows like myself just stood back and wonder how he did it when he roared around the speedway at Indianapolis and set a new track record in his first appearance.” he told the Dothan (Alabama) Eagle in 1948.
He may not have won at Indy as a driver, but he was prominent in most other tracks, winning the national driving championship in 1926. He won a 300-mile race at Atlantic City, N.J. that year with a 135 mph average, which held up as the fastest speed at an U.S. track for 31 years.
By 1927, he held world speed records for distances as far as 5,000 miles and for period records from 6 to 72 hours. Hartz’s lust for speed saw him break nine international speed records on the Muroc Dry Lake bed (today’s Edwards Air Force Base), according to the Associated Press on March 24, 1933.
But his racing days had come to an abrupt stop on Oct. 12, 1927, when he was seriously injured in a 200-mile race at Rockingham Speedway in Salem, N.H. He spent more than a year recovering from the crash, which forced him to retire.
While he had to deal with the frustration of finishing Indy runner-up so often as a driver, Hartz faced far greater tragedies on the track. On March 23 1923, he was racing at the Beverly Hills Speedway, when he was mistakenly directed to drive along a side road before the race. He was suddenly forced to swerve to avoid several cars, slamming into three men standing along the sideline, killing two of them.
On May 25, 1934, a Hartz-owned car was practicing at the speedway for the upcoming Indy 500 when it crashed through a retaining wall and struck a tree. Killed were driver Pete Kreis of Knoxville, Tennessee, and his mechanic 22-year-old Bob Hahn of Chino. Hahn had been a successful driver on several Inland Empire tracks before joining Hartz’s operation, hoping to follow his footsteps into national prominence, according to the Chino Champion of June 1.
Hartz remained active in Indianapolis Speedway activities for many years, while also working for the Studebaker Corp. and the American Automobile Association. He was named to the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame in 1998.
The 78-year-old Hartz died Sept. 26, 1974, after never fully recovering from injuries in an auto accident in Indianapolis.
History making
We recently wrote about the San Dimas Historical Society’s project to publish the two-volume set of writings of San Dimas pioneer Genevieve Walker. The 508-page set is now available for $20. There are only 100 copies of each volume. It’s available through the San Dimas Historical Society, P.O. Box 871, San Dimas 91773.
The sets can be picked up at the May 31 spring dinner of the society, celebrating its 50th anniversary. The event is at 6 p.m. at San Dimas Canyon Golf Course, 2100 Terrebonne Ave. Reservations are needed by Thursday for $30 (members) and $33 (nonmembers). Information: 909-592-1190.
Joe Blackstock writes on Inland Empire history. He can be reached at joe.blackstock@gmail.com or Twitter @Joe Blackstock.
