MILLER: Honoring York, Remembering Rube

IndyCar

MILLER: Honoring York, Remembering Rube

We lost two Indianapolis Motor Speedway legends this week: one to the cycle of life and another to injustice.

Robin Miller | Posted March 25, 2009 Indianapolis, IN

We lost two Indianapolis Motor Speedway legends this week: one to the cycle of life and another to injustice.

Lloyd Ruby passed away following 81 years on this earth, 30 of which were spent thrilling us on race tracks across the country, while Bill York, the last bastion of information and cooperation at the IMS press office for the past 51 years, was buried alive by stupidity and shown the door.

The first time I got fired from The Indianapolis Star (1974), Mike Devin was kind enough to give me a job as a stooge/parts washer/polisher/vent man on pit stops for his Indy-car team owned by Mike Slater with Rube as the driver.

It was a fantastic summer as those were the days of small crews (we had Darrell Soppe, Danny Jones, Jim Bob Luebbert, Steve Long and Devin), big fun and we drove to all the races with Rube's trusty Commander Motor Homes No. 9 Eagle in tow.

I had written about Lloyd during my first five years at The Star but didn't really know the man and we bonded instantly when he found out I knew as little about a chassis as he did.

Watching Rube at work was truly a marvel. He didn't have much knowledge about how to set up his car but he possessed an amazing seat-of-the-pants feeling for an Indy car, a smooth touch with the throttle and a big set of balls.

As Mario Andretti said in my obit to Lloyd yesterday, the guy could get up to speed faster than anybody and was never one for excessive running or details. He always qualified on the first weekend at Indy and then he'd vanish until it was time to scuff in a couple sets of tires. Then it was back to the golf course or the gin rummy game.

At Pocono in '74, Devin, Jones and Soppe went out to the three corners to watch practice. Rube ran 5-6 laps and came in. They huddled behind the car and discussed what the car looked like while I sat on the sidepod with an umbrella to keep the sun off our man.

Devin asked Lloyd where his hands were on the steering wheel going through the tunnel turn and he looked up with a grin and that long Texas drawl and said: "H..e..l..l.. Mike, I don't know, it's close enough." He started 12th, got up to second and finished sixth.

In his prime, nobody was faster or unluckier, yet Rube never complained. He always said he was lucky to get paid for racing (can you imagine?). When Tony Stewart complained that Indy always "s$#% on him" after his second start, I could only think about the old boy from Wichita Falls who really got dumped on all those Mays.

Did he enjoy an alcoholic beverage or two? Hell yeah, but his recovery powers might have been more impressive than his road racing ability, which was stout.

The true measure of a racer, in my mind, is what his competition thought. I spent all day Tuesday talking to A.J., Mario, Rutherford, Uncle Bobby, Gurney and Parnelli about Lloyd and their praise and respect was overwhelming.

He was a prince of a fellow and I'll always be thankful I got to be around him.

The same can be said about Wilson D. York, aka Bill. He began helping Bob Laycock in the old Speedway press room under the grandstands back in the early '50s after getting Stark & Wetzel to sponsor the rookie award and passing out free cold cuts to the boys in Gasoline Alley.

All of Ruby's friends and competitors spent Tuesday sharing tales of the great Indy racer's life. (LAT)

Laycock liked the fact York was dependable, friendly, enthusiastic and didn't mind helping out on a daily basis while holding down a steady job. They became a team, Bob the gruff historian who growled at any error and Bill, the pleasant guy who led the out-of-town press around by the hand.

He also found tickets for people at the last minute, organized charity dinners, helped sponsors got indoctrinated to Indy and, in general, was a goodwill ambassador. Throughout the revolving door of the IMS PR department, York has been the constant -- a voice of reason and knowledge who showed up at 8 am and left at 9 p.m. Did I mention he's run the pressroom for the Pacers and Colts since their inception here? He is part of the Indianapolis sports landscape and valued by many people.

That was evident Wednesday as the word Bill's demise spread through the racing community. I had 65 emails by 3 pm from the outraged masses. One wondered if I had called IMS to ask why they dumped York and I said, no, because there was NOTHING that could justify that decision. It's deplorable.

Trust me, York didn't show up at the Speedway for more than a half century because he was getting rich. He made pocket change until a few years ago. He does this because it's in his DNA. He's 75 years old but he's still sharp and still a valuable asset to a lot of us.

The Colts and Pacers named their pressrooms after him and I imagine when it's time for him to leave, they'll treat him with a helluva lot more respect than he got from the Speedway.

Or maybe they'll give Bill a bronze badge and let him park in Turn 3.

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