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 Failure of 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

 

 

 

Miami Memories--Dirt Track Racing

          My father, Johnie Stapp,  loved to work on cars, build cars, drive cars fast, and travel.  Since he didn’t have a son, I became his shadow and helper.   When I learned to read a road map better than a textbook, my mother described me as a curious child to her bridge club friends.  I understood that it was a survival technique after having experienced my father’s verbal frustration at mother’s inability to read a map and give directions.  Learning to read road maps served several purposes for me.  One, by sitting in the front seat on long trips I was less likely to vomit from car sickness   Secondly,  I could honestly read the maps and signs well enough that we didn’t get lost. Third, I didn’t have to sit in the back seat with my little sister and get in trouble for touching her half of the bench seat. At some point Dr. Graham told my parents about drug called Dramamine, which knocked out children and they slept through curving and hilly roads. When I took Dramamine, my power of sitting up front was taken away from me. I didn’t always have to take the sleeping pill, as I called it and over the years and miles of travel, my skills of map reading came in handy preserving peace in our family.

No one could take my energy and curiosity about racing and race cars away from me.  When my father bought his first fast car from George Coleman, Jr., I was barely big enough to look out of the window of the shiny green 1952 Oldsmobile.  It was our family car. Dad with the help of his mechanic buddies from B&M garage on Main Street, Miami, Oklahoma kept the engine running at top speed.  With its V8 engine it could now race quarter mile straight out on dirt tracks.   The nearest track with a quarter mile straight away for that type of racing was in Missouri, near Joplin.

        My eyes nearly exploded the first time I sat on a wooden bench with mom and my little sister, Jonya, and watched the cars scream by me.  Dust, dirt, and engine heat filled my nostrils leading my lungs to scream, “Faster, dad, faster.”  Mother pulled at my shirt tail keeping me away from the fence as I continued to jump and yell, even though the race was over.

 I don’t remember that we attended very many races, but I do remember one particular nigh when I was in third grade at Lincoln school (1955-56).  We had watched several other races and it was nearing dad’s turn.  He stood up and turning to us said, “Tizzy how about taking a spin down the track with me?”  I’m sure mother had to grab my shirt tail, as I leaped high off the bench in jubilation.

 “Now Johnie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.  Anything could happen out there, and besides she gets car sick.  How could you forget that.” Mother cried in a demanding voice.

“Helen,” Dad replied with a sigh in his voice, “she’ll have a seat belt on, and it’s a straight race to the finish line.”  

“Mom,” I pleaded, “you know we’ll be safe because we always wear seatbelts and I like it when Dad drives fast.”

Mother gave in.

Taking me by the hand we walked past the bleachers of people down to the parking lot and into the Olds.  Suddenly, my insides pounded and I knew I had to tinkle, but  I guessed that if I told dad I needed to go tinkle, I’d lose out on riding in the race.  The next thing I knew I was buckled into the front seat starring out the open window at the people in the bleachers.   We sat there for eternity waiting our turn, while my eyes scanned for mother and Jonya.   The car reverberated in place as dad kept one foot on the brake and one on the pedal, then with a burst of energy the car leaped forward, and I bolted backwards into my seat forcing me to sit tall and straight as the people in the stands and the wire fence blurred past my eyes.  I’d imagined of waving as we flew by my mom and my sister, but instead my body buzzed with excitement.  I don’t remember whether dad won or not.  I only remember the feeling of humiliation as I realized I was sitting in a warm puddle in the front seat of the car. 

After we drove off the race track and back to the lot of parked cars, I pulled myself forward to get out of the car, then froze in place as the warm lingering buzz of the race trickled down my legs and cold tears filled my eyes.  “Daddy, I couldn’t help it.” I whimpered, not making eye contact with him.  “It just came out of me when you hit the gas. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t help it.” 

My words continued to babble from my lips making no sense until Dad raised his voice and patted me on the back.  “You’re fine, Tizzy. Now take a deep breath and stop crying. Your mother is walking over here.”  In my head I wanted to stop crying, dry off and look cool, but in my heart I just wanted to run from my own humiliation.

 I never believed that dad was angry with me for wetting my pants, but I think he was concerned about what had just happened.  What had he done?  Had he crossed a dangerous line with his oldest daughter?  I had no fear as a child, but I think it was events like this that helped me recognize danger, and how to stand my ground and say, “No.” 

Out of the car it, was clear that I had wet my pants.  When mother saw what happened she reached for my little sister’s hand and stared at my father, rather than hug me.   Then in a rather icy voice she spoke, “See there Johnie, you’ve scared her to death.  Letty’s just a little girl.”

“Damnit Helen, she’s fine.  Grown men have done the same thing.  She’s not afraid.”  Then they both looked at me.  When I heard the anger in their voices, the tears quit flowing, and I stood alone glancing at my parents then at my little sister.  She was holding tight to mother’s hand and trembling with fright, I think more from their voices than from the dirt track races.  Finally, the quivering deep down inside of me released my voice and I shouted, “I’m ok.  I’m ok.  It just made me go tinkle, that’ all.” 

I tried to think of something funny to say, to make us laugh and the anger go away, but no funny words came.  It was a quiet drive home, always eerily quiet after mom and dad argued. 

Arguments weren’t uncommon in our household, but they were most painful to me if my actions had caused the fight.   To this day I’m not comfortable with people arguing, and I will avoid confrontation whenever possible.  As a child who keenly observed people, I knew then, as I know now that no one wins an argument when feelings are hurt with ugly words.

My accident, as mother called it, didn’t stop us from following dad from time to time to the drag races in the green Olds.  There seemed to be some subtle agreement between mom and dad that I wouldn’t be in the race car on the track again. I never lost my curiosity and thrill of riding with my father, especially after he bought the Muntz from Lou Newell in the late 1950’s.

**This story came from memories I have collected as I research the history of my home and golf course. My history story from Miami, Oklahoma can be read at Johnie Stapp--The War years to 1947

*Search for other blogs about MIAMI MEMORIES in the search bar above right.

*Thank you Bobby Poole for helping me with pictures and locations of our Miami childhood memories. 

 

 

Miami Memories: Rockdale Country Club

Rumor has it that George L. Coleman originally built a four hole golf course in Miami so his  son George could learn how to play golf.   It is true. He built the original four holes in 1916 so his young son, George Jr and others could learn how to play the sport that he'd seen other people play in California and Florida. Jane Osborn shared that George Jr. and Willie, her husband, visited a lot.  George told Willie that his dad built the course so he could learn to play golf. George Coleman and his wife traveled a great deal and realized that golf was a new up and coming game, and it would behoove George Jr. to know how to play the game. 

The original four holes did not have greens, they instead had a target designated at which to shoot. 

Hole  #1 a par 4 faced the west with a target that lay in the SW corner of the lot. It did not have grass or sand greens merely a target for each hole.

 Hole #2, a short par 4 faced NE following the creeks and trees on the left side of the fairway with the target approximately where #3 green lay (on the south side of the creek) when the course became nine holes in 1936.

Hole  #3 faced east crossing the creek and continuing up the hill (like old #4).

Hole  #4 then reversed and headed back to the clubhouse building, again crossing the narrow creek.  

By this time, 1916, the Miami Royalty Mining Company made George L. Coleman, Alfred Coleman, James Fountain Robinson, and Charles Harvey very wealthy men.  The mining of lead and zinc would put Ottawa County on the map for its lead and zinc production during World War I. The Miami Royalty Mining Company consisted of George L and Alfred Coleman, who were the experts in drilling and whose original interest was in drilling for water, along with James Fountain Robinson and Charles Harvey, who had formed a partnership in securing land, leases, and the insurance business and were able to obtain capital to drill for the possible weath to be found below ground.

As the lead and zinc mines began feverishly producing  in 1907 from Commerce, Ok, through Treece and Galena, Kansas, the SE tip of Kansas, and through Joplin, Missouri to Carthage, George L. Coleman and James Fountain Robinson worked in various projects to put Miami on the map as a place to visit and live. In 1907 when Oklahoma became a state Miami became the county seat of Ottawa County (but not without a contested battle for the honor). Because of their influence and money, the Miami Baptist Hospital and the Board of Education became a reality. Miami grew in health, prosperity, education, and entertainment thanks to what is commonly called the "Big Four." 

For more information on the mining of lead and zinc from 1905-1940's please refer to The History of Ottawa County by Velma Nieberding. 

After several years of the community learning to play golf and take an interest in this new sport, Coleman hired Ed Dudley in 1920 to become the first professional golfer at Rockdale Country Club.  During this time Dudley and several members of the club designed and added five golf holes to the existing four.  Sand greens were added at this time.  One of the most colorful characters, Ky Laffoon,  learned to play golf at Rockdale Country Club under through the teachings of Ed Dudley. Ky Laffoon went on to win several professional golf tournaments. Over the next forty years the influence of Ed Dudley, George Coleman Jr., and Ky Laffoon impacted amateur and professional golfers throughout the United States.  Dudley went on to become a well-known and admired PGA golf pro. Two of his most admired students were President Dwight Eisenhower and Babe Didrikson Zaharias. For more information on Babe click on this link. Biographical sketch of The Babe

In 1923 Ed Dudley left Rockdale to become the pro at Oak Hill Country Club in Joplin (later known as Twin Hills). Oak Hill along with Schifferdecker club were built with money from the lead and zinc mines in this area. More information on Ed Dudley

Wooden shafted clubs

From 1923-24 John Gavin became the golf professional. George L. Coleman was elected President of the Rockdale CC by the seven directors: Ed Millner, Ross R. Bayless, James A. Robinson (son of James Fountain Robinson), A.C. Wallace, L.A. Thompson, and R.W. Skinner. 

There are so many interesting stories about early golf in the new state of Oklahoma, but this fact I found most interesting, considering the cost of golf nearly one hundred years later. In 1924 Rockdale Country Club became a member of the Oklahoma State Golf Association giving local members of the club the right to play, without paying a green fee, other courses in the state that were members of the state association. 

The Tri-State Golf association was already active in men and women's golf in the early 1920's. The first tournament of the Tri-State association in which Rockdale players entered was held in Pittsburg, Ks on May 4, 1924. The Tri-State championship tournament was held at Rockdale Country Club September 23--27, 1924 on the nine hole course. In order to lure large numbers of men and women golfers George Coleman announced that there would be an elaborate reception and grand prizes for the players. 

Letty Stapp Watt,
Johnie Stapp's daughter and historian 
*Please leave comments on this blog.

More stories to follow month on the development of the Miami Country Club.

Resources:
Thanks to Barbara Becker, genealogy librarian,  Miami Public Library
Jane Osborn
John Robinson Jr.
Dobson Museum, Jordan Boyd
Wally Wallace sports writer Tulsa World 1958.
John Finley
Velma Nieberding's The History of Ottawa County
The News Archives