The Muntz and the Turnpike Race of 1957

George Coleman, Jr. carried a great deal of influence in the small boom town of Miami, Oklahoma. His interests in life extended from the golf course to the race track, from lead and zinc mining to business interest in Penzoil Company, Chris Craft Industries, Ben Hogan Company, and more. George and my father, Johnie F. Stapp, met in 1954 when my father was hired as the golf professional for the Miami, Ok, Golf and Country Club, Miami, Ok. 

In 1957 my father bought The Muntz from Lou Newell, who at that time owned Sky Ranch and a famous stud horse named Johnny Dial  Lou had bought the car in Indianapolis. (Contrary to rumors this car was not a pace car for the Indianapolis 500, as reported in my childhood.)

The car was built in 1951 by Mad Man Muntz. In the late 1940's a nationally known race car wizard, Frank Kurtis, who eventually developed a number of Indianapolis 500 winners, designed and built about 20 aluminum-bodied two-seater sports cars. Kurtis, however, lacked production resources, so Muntz stepped in and bought the manufacturing right. Muntz redesigned the car that was soon dubbed the Muntz Jet. He stretched the wheelbase, put in a back seat, replaced the Ford engines with Cadillac V-8's, added padded dashboards and seat belts, painted the cars in bright Easter egg colors, and even installed liquor and ice cabinets. (Our center console held beer, but I don't recall that it was a liquor cabinet, merely space between the bucket seats, where mom and dad could hide their beers on the way to Minnie and Milts Dinner Restaurant in Joplin.)

 Bob Hill retold this story recently. Your dad must have bought the car in 1956, and it was well known to be one of the fastest cars on the road with a Cadillac V-8 engine. Bob and his buddies heard a rumor that George Coleman, Jr., challenged Johnie to a race. The Will Rogers Turnpike was not open to traffic in the spring of 1957, but the road was open and cleared for traffic. The holdup being the finishing touches on the Glass House over the turnpike near Vinita. 

George Coleman, Jr. bought a new 1955 Chrysler 300 with push button transmission and decided to drive it back to Miami and challenge his golfing friend and race car buddy, Johnie Stapp, to a race between his new Chrysler 300 and the Muntz Jet. 

The two men and their fast cars arrived at the turnpike intending to race full speed from Miami to Vinita. Without proof, I am sure there was a gallery of people present to see the pro and George race.  

Bob and his buddies decided to ride their bikes to the first overpass between Miami and Vinita, so they could watch the race. By the time they arrived the race was over.

In the end, the pair never even made it Afton. The Chrysler outperformed the Muntz because of the newer faster engine and the push button transmission. It was made to travel. The Muntz was a dragster and drove well on the straight-out fast track. 

Shortly after the race, during my fourth-grade year in school, we moved to 209 H. N.E. where dad had a two-car garage. I'm sure it was during that year 57-58 that dad bought a Chrysler 300 engine and the guys at B & B garage worked many hours to install the new engine. Dad could always be found tinkering with his car in that old garage. My sister and I spent evenings watching dad or doing our best to help and yet, stay out of the way.

MORE TRUE MEMORIES OF THE MUNTZ:  

Muntz Interior

Jim Taylor, son of Gob Taylor, personal memory of riding in the Muntz on Highway 66.

This event occurred with Pat Temple when Johnie took the two of us on a little ride going to Commerce and back on Highway 66. I believe this was a 1951 Muntz and was well capable of speeds in excess of 120 mph. Johnie also was an experienced race car driver and that Muntz looked hot to Pat and me. We were always asking Johnie to drive us around. Hence, he finally succumbed to giving us a ride and off we went. 

 When we got to Highway 66, we were really riding him to show us something. He did, he drove that Muntz right between two cars at 65 mph or so and he floored that Muntz and we flew through them. Scared me thoroughly as it did Pat, and we did not ask again. However, it was evident that Johnie knew well how to drive a race car. That Muntz was a state-of-the-art car in the early 1950's.

Jim Burford, son of John and Lucille Burford, shared this personal story: 

Jim told me that my dad was always his hero, not for the golf but for his racing passion. Jim became fascinated with how dad modified engines, like the Muntz, to go flat out 160 down the turnpike or late night roads like the one that connected Ben Stanley's corner on Route 66 to the east and back to the Fairgrounds. It was a lonely dark road until the boys and men challenged each other to drag races. Once, again it was the mechanics at B&B Garage on South Main, who kept dad's car rolling along. 

Our Muntz Jet was originally a mustard color that I now see on some of the new smaller cars. The interior was also rolled and pleated mustard color leather. Later, dad painted it shinny black. Next, it became baby blue and the interior was changed to match it. No matter which color the Highway Patrol found him on Route 66 or the Will Rogers Turnpike. They knew his car and his name personally. 

To me the car was always that vivid mustard color. My personal story of the Muntz can be read at Muntz at Literally Letty. 

This video may vividly show you what my words cannot:  The Muntz Jet

Letter Series:

Chrysler first introduced the 300 back in 1955, and with the debut of that high-performance 4-seater some would say the idea of the muscle car was born. Over the next 10 years, Chrysler would bring to market a range of 300s now referred to as the “letter series,” starting with that first 300 and continuing on with the 300B, 300C, 300D — a new letter every year with the final 300L in 1965. These special Chrysler's were among the fastest production cars on the road, equipped with the latest in luxury features. Other 300 models followed the letter series, but none would ever be as special as those first versions.  Chrysler 300: a Brief History  

L.K. Newell went on to establish his now well-known Newell Coach .

L.K. Newell also was a noted Miami business man, who kept many Miami people employed over the decades:  L.K. Lou Newell, Business man

 

 

 

Tying Up Loose Ends

Life’s not perfect. Some loose ends may never get trimmed and tidied. 

~Hoda Kotb

On February sixth of this year, I sat down in near exhaustion and began writing to explore my dilemma of "What to do?" My house was messy, my living room bookcase was crowded, the dining room table once again became a landing place for organizing historical notes and unfinished scrapbooks from forty-years ago.

I came up with plans: 

1. Stop thinking and start shelving.

2. Drink a glass of wine and worry about it tomorrow.

3. Quit thinking. Start acting. 

4. Fix dinner and relax for the evening and wake up refreshed.

I chose #4 and after dinner sat down to watch PBS. Seeing the haphazard bookshelves in the background of the man being interviewed gave me an idea of what not to do.  

I woke up refreshed. After breakfast, with the help of my husband we

took everything down from the bookcase including the shelving and started to construct scenic book shelving for our living room.

I nearly finished the shelving but couldn’t reach closure. Something didn’t feel right, something wasn’t balanced, but at least it was not helter-skelter.

I am a great believer in getting one thing done before taking on another task. Staying on task to finish the living room books was my only goal that week. However, Sir Isaac Newton had a theory about that. He said, “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” 

"I wonder what his lab looks like?" I muttered to myself. 

In my quest for balance, I reluctantly walked down the hallway to my teaching, storytelling, and professional hidden cupboard of books. I sighed when I opened the door. So much. So much.

Ironically, upon opening the doors fully I noticed several pictures taped to the inside cupboard—pictures of how to decorate shelving. “Yes,” my lungs cried, one of the magazine photos opened my mind. For a couple of days, I played with framed pictures between books and art.

My mood shifted from worried to playful and relaxed. Giving me the energy and focus to clean off the dining room table. I stood back and took a photo of the bookcase. Perfect, I smiled.

 Fixing a glass of iced tea, I sat down to relax and congratulate myself on finishing a project. The more I looked the more something in me felt unfinished. That is when my heart and head came together and asked, “What if I die tomorrow?"

Having been to four funerals in the last six weeks, my emotions apparently were pounding my heart and head where thoughts hidden in crinkled crevices of my mind were buried. I do not want to leave a mess of paper memories for my daughter and her stepbrothers.

With fresh glass of tea in hand, I meandered through the house and out front to the garden where my daffodils and pansies stood in full color in the winter sun. My heart knew there was more to be done and how to do it. As Alan Turing described, “We can only see a short distance ahead, but we can see plenty to be done.”

I could no longer hide in my studio even with the sunshine brightening the pale green walls, nor ignore my hallway hidings. Instead of enjoying the view of the birds eating at the feeder out my writing window, all I could sense was clutter: stacks of books, piles of papers and pictures
strewn on the chair and tabletops. In the open-air art closet, I could only see plastic tubs filled with my parents history stacked four feet high, next to that another bookcase with very few books and five shelves of so many-rows of files, art papers, scrapbooks, decorative tubs.

The next day, I pulled up a stool and began pulling books from deep inside the hallway cupboard. One by one I sorted my remaining collection of autographed children’s books. I made only two decisions: keep for Katy or give away to teachers. In less than five days the cupboard and studio showed off their empty spaces to me. In the end my teacher
friends acquired books and comfort puppets for their classrooms, and our adult children will be pleased that some loose ends were trimmed and tidied.