Page 8
N.C. Essay
Monday, Novembn* 24, 1975
The Legacy of a Racer TV Problems
BvKURTESLlCK
Once again the racing world
has been shocked into reality by
another tragedy. This time the
victim is Mark Donahue, the
American who for the past few
years has been a symbol of
perfection in racing. The cars
he drove were always
immaculate, his driving
impeccable, and his calculating
mind unbelievable. He was, for
sure, the smartest, best-
educated man in racing.
Donahue’s crash was caused
by a tire blowing out at 180
miles per hour in a gentle curve
during practice for the Austrian
Grand Prix on August 17th.
Even while we heard the
r^rts of Donahue’s health
growing worse and worse, the
racing fraternity was still not
ready for the final report. Mark
Donahue, 38, one of America’s
premier racing drivers
succumbed to head injuries
sustained because of improper
catch fencing.
Mark was the epitome of
coolness under fire. He could
take unworkable situations and
make them work. His cool
driving style combined with an
engineering degree from Brown
University made him the best
combination driver-engineer
racing had ever seen. Mark and
his long-time ally, Roger
Penske, formed what came to
be called, “The Unfair
Advantage.” Their cars, always
painted blue and orange, were
perfectly prepared, cost was of
no importance. Together they
created cars like the Porsche
917-30K, a turbo-charged
“Blitzwagon” which has
rightfully been billed as the
world’s fastest roadracing car.
They also won a little race in
Indiana known as the
Indianapolis 500.
Donahue retired from racing
after the 1973 racing season but
came back for the 1975 season to
race Roger Penske’s Formula
One Grand Prix racer.
This was Donahue’s final
goal, to capture the World
Driving Championship, the
most hotly contested and most
dangerous road racing series in
the world. Coming out of
retirement is very, very hard to
do, but Donahue did it very well.
He was starting to show his old
form when that fateful day in
August arrived.
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Donahue will be criticized for
returning to racing. This
criticism will come from those
who are not infected by the
racing bug. This feeling has
been described by psychologists'
as a will to power. Will to power
is an urge to throw off ^ our
limitations as mortal beings, to
be able to defeat gravity, to
escape, even for a short time,
the realities of a real world with
real people and real dangers.
We strap ourselves into very
fragile machines which are
little more than powerful
engines with four wheels bolted
on cars weighing less than
Volkwagens and having 500
horsepower. We become bionic
men with mechanical arms and
legs. With this equipment we
can go out and challenge our
mortality for a short time.
Donahue’s death reminds the
racing world once again that it
is indeed mortal. We can never
escape it. The average person
lives in the shadow of death,
never quite accepting that he
must eventually die. He thinks
that if he never risks his life,
death will never get him.
the late Bruce McLaren at his
teammate’s funeral, “The news
that he had died was a terrible
shock to all of us, but who is to
say that he (Teddy Mayer) had
not seen more, done more, and
learned more in his twenty-six
years than many people do in a
lifetime? To do something well
is so worthwhile that to die
trying to do it better cannot be
foolhardy. It would be a waste
of life to do nothing with one’s
ability, for I feel that life is
measured in achievement, not
in years alone. “Bruce
McLaren only had six years to
IJve when he wrote these words,
•but he lived them according to
4iis philosophy.
Mark Donahue also lived by
these words and he leaves the
legacy of a man whose talents
were obvious and, for those
fortunate few who knew him, a
joyful life which was a pleasure
to share. Modest to a fault and
understanding in even the most
demanding situations, Mark
reached out to us over millions
of. miles of race courses with
honesty, integrity, hard work,
and'llie natural pleasure which
.to die trying to
do it better can
not be foolhardy.
The. race driver, like
Hemingway’s bullfighter,
knows he must eventually die
and nothing can prevent it.
Donahue, like all other race
drivers, was not worried about
the length of his Ufe, only the
quality of it. The race driver
lives at a very fast pace and
therefore sometimes reaches
the end of that life much quicker
than the average person. This
speed, however, does not make
his own life any less
meaningful. These words are
best summed up by the words of
comes from a person doing
what he does best. We will miss
his smiling face which earned
him nicknames like “Cherub
Cheeks” and “Captain Nice”.
An amateur driver
commented on Donahue’s
death, “I asked Donahue if a
panhard .rod would help my
Pinto’s handling, he said it
would... You couldn’t dispute
his word, because he was the
best combination driver-
engineer in the world and he
always had time for the little
guy...Who shall we take our
questions to now?”
Short Story
By JOHN PATTERSON
A dim light filtered through
the dirty windows into the first
floor apartment. Amid the neat
but aged furnishings sat a man
looking as old as the interior
itself. A simple coffee cup and a
plate lay on the sink, and the
only sound audible was the
constept drip of the kitchen
faucet. “It will be three months
tomorrow since you’ve left me,
Maggie. Three months already.
It just doesn’t seem possible.
These months have been the
worst hell that I have ever
known. Each day is filled with
long, lonely hours, and I sit
waiting. Waiting, waiting for
what? For you to come back?
Bah! Oh God, why did you have
to take her from me? WTiat did I
ever do to deserve this agony?
Why should I be punished so
hard after a life of repeated
failures? Should I be so lucky
that I have out-lived all my
family and friends? Ah, yes!
And what have I out-lived them
for? For this?! This solitude.
this anguish? And if I died
today, would anyone notice,
would anyone really care?”
The old man dropped his head
to the table, not to cry, but in
hopes of finding an eternal
peace. He was llie epitome of
lonliness. His wrinkled and
well-worn clothes were fastened
together with a series of safety
pins. And the unshaven face did
well to cover the multitude of
worried lines and ridges.
After about an hour the
broken-hearted figure rose
from his seat at the empty table
and proceeded down the front
steps into the street. The going
was slow with the walker, but
just to be outside and moving
made him feel alive again. The
afternoon was cold and cloudy.
The kind of crisp day that
excites the young, but weighs
heavy on the weary. The old
man turned the comer onto the
Fennway, and headed towards
the park in front of the music
conservatory. This was one of
his favorite spots, as he liked to
sit and listen to the students,
practicing.
Today he hoped only to find
one person to converse with,
just one ear to poiu* his heart
By GARRY WASSERMAN
So another season of television drags on. The excitement of
September is over, and new shows blend in with old ones. The
question is raised: Why didn’t this season turn out to be fresh and
exciting, as it was billed?
From July to September, the material that is shown on TV
seemingly consists of sixty percent reruns and forty percent
advertisements for the “brand new season coming up.” Each
network tells how their fresh, exciting, and interesting shows will
make them the “number one” network. The viewers are tired of
seeing to themselves, “Gee, that sounds far-out,” and they can
hardly wait for the new season to arrive. I myself also waited with
interest to see what this “fresh new season” would bring in the so-
called “golden age” of television. I thought, “Maybe this is the
season when TV will live up to its billings.”
But when September finally came, I realized that there was
nothing fresh and exciting that was being shown. I was viewing the
same garbage that had mesmerized audiences the season before,
the season before, and before. ^
More violent crime shows about “Joe Interesting” and his quest
to rid his city of crime through “Joe’s own means.” More situation
comedies in the “All in the Family” mold that are situated in
classrooms and prisons this year. In prisons yet! If the TV industry
can make a funny comedy show alraut prisoners and prison life,
they can do anything. And this season, they even have a science
fiction program that was billed to be the second “Star Trek.” If one
studied the show, it would become apparent that it is closer to the
Kiddie-thriller, “Lost in Space.” It actually has material that
features enemy space aliens trying to destroy the earth. Sound
familiar? I think it sounds like 1950 mentality. Also included in this
year’s package is more prime-time game-shows featuring
Lawrence P. Average winning $10,000 and going absolutely
hysterical over it. I find it funny to see people make absolute clowns
of themselves on these shows, but only up to a point. I ask the
question: why aren’t TV shows more interesting and provocative?
The three major networks: NBC, CBS, and ABC, are in constant
competition with each other for the higher amount of viewers. Each
network tries to have shows that the “average person” might want
to watch. Consequently, the networks show “average” material,
and are able to take advantage of people-who don’t realize or care
about what they are watching. The networks are looking for money,
not quality. But, I believe that the networks are also doing
'something else to the American public that the public doesn’t
realize.
Early this year, when South Vietnam was finally seized by the
Communists, the first building that was secured was the television
station. Television is a very effective media because it can reach a
broad audience. With the control of the TV station, the Communists
could control the people of South Vietnam. This is what I believe the
networks are doing to the American people. Television is a very
important communication medium which has been misused.
With the continued repetition of poor materials that reach into
millions of people’s homes and minds every night, the networks are
robbing the people’s need to expand themselves. The people prefer
to sit in front of the television every night, and thus become
mesmerized so they are unable to realize what kind of crap they are
watching.
Of course, television does have something going for itself. News
shows are becoming more sophisticated, and several interesting
specials are being shown. PBS is always tucked away in the comer
of the channel selector waiting to be used. But television could
become more than just this, for it is one of the best inventions that
has ever occurred. It can expand not only people’s knowledge, but
also can help their ability to think as weU. However, it can also
become one of the worst inventions that has ever occurred if people
don’t wake up and realize that at present, television has little going
for itself. Television can either build or destroy society.
Television should no longer be merely a brain-washing device. In
order to make it more than this, it should be taken away from
money-hungry networks and given a fresh start by a close
association with intelligent people. A message could be stamped on
the side of every television reading: “The Surgeon General warns
that television is hazardous to your health.” But what is really
needed is for every person to realize the problems of television so
he can help to solve them.
into. He was in luck! Not far
ahead sat a young man reading
a newspaper. As he inched up
close to the bench, he inquired
whether he too mi^t share the
bench. The gentleman agreed
and the old man eased his sore
body onto the bench. “Mighty
cold weather we’re having,”
sighed the old man. The young
man nodded and went on
reading. “Yep, mighty cold,”
the old man repeated. “Suspect
we’D get some snow?” The
young man simply shrugged
and went on reading, paying
minimal attention to the old
man. After several minutes had
lapsed, the old man started
again. “You know its been three
months since my wife died.
Yep, three months. And let me
tell you, these have been the
most depressing three months
of my life. Why, for over sixty
years of marriage there was
never a night that we were
separated. Never a night! And
good times! Ah, we had the
best! Take for example back in
July of 1924 when we went out to
Cape...”
“Excuse me sir,” The man
interrupted, “but I have an
appointment.” The old man’s
heart sank once again'as he
watched his new friend hurry
off.
He sat on th6 bench for almost
an hour longer, but no one
stopped to sit with him, no one
even looked his way. Everyone
seemed to be racing home to
warm dinners and happy
lamilies. The old man watched.
“Well, I guess I ought to mosey
along home now and fix me
some supper.” He slowly pulled
his cold body up from the bench
and started back to his
apartment. He didn’t want to go
back, but there was nowhere
else to go. Much worse, the
evening was always the lonliest
part of his day. If someone, for
just a rnoment would stop and
notice him, talk to him, warm
his heart a bit! The old man was
so lost in his grief that he hardly
noticed a voice calling to him
“Hey, old man! Old man! Hand
over the wallet!” A steel pipe
came down upon his head and
he fell to the sidewalk, dead.