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MILLER: Saying Goodbye To Larry Rice
Robin Miller pays tribute to his friend and former Indy 500 ace Larry Rice who died early Wednesday.
Robin Miller  |  Posted May 20, 2009   Indianapolis, IN
Larry Rice's perennial smile accompanied him in 2008 when he went back to Australia to visit his old friends. (Photo courtesy of Robin Miller)
The usual formula for success as a race driver is a mix of aggression, selfishness, no fear, some ruthlessness, a healthy ego and an unfailing belief that nobody is better.

But let me tell you about a guy who didn’t fit that template.

He was as clean on the track as he was off it. He always seemed thankful for the opportunity to earn a living as a race driver. He admitted when a car or a track scared him. He respected his competition as well as the people who helped him get going. He was smooth, smart and seldom crashed. He never bragged about his wins or ever ragged about his luck.

To my knowledge, and I lived, raced, dined and laughed with him on and off for 40 years, he was liked by everyone and that’s not rare in racing -- it’s unheard of.

Most of us became a Larry Rice fan the first time you met him and that perpetual smile and infectious laugh made friends from Williams Grove to Ascot Park all the way to Perth.

He went from a farm boy in Linden, Ind. to USAC champion to rookie of the year at the Indianapolis 500 to the television booth and his demeanor never changed.

He was always a prince of a person.

Rice, who died Wednesday in his Brownsburg home of cancer at age 63, packed that pleasant attitude along with his helmet from 1968-91 and it almost masked the fact he excelled as a racer in the rough and tumble midget and sprint circuits of USAC’s heydays.

“He was the most quiet, unassuming bad ass race driver who ever sat in a car,” said Steve Chassey, who battled with Rice all through the 1970s and 1980s.

It’s almost hard to believe that such a nice guy could capture the 1973 USAC midget title, be a two-time USAC Silver Crown champion (1977-1981) and win 23 times (15 midgets, 5 dirt, 3 sprint) during his career.

Make no mistake, Larry’s likeable nature vanished when he strapped in and nobody was more focused or any grittier behind the wheel. He was fair and clean but he was tough.

Pancho Carter, as fierce and as fast as anybody who ever sat in a sprinter or midget, isn’t in the habit of throwing around compliments but always respected his Brownsburg neighbor.

“Larry was a tough competitor, in everything, and I’d rank him right up there with the guys who I thought were tough, (Tom) Bigelow, (Larry) Dickson and (Gary) Bettenhausen,” said Carter, a four-time USAC champ in a recent issue of Sprint Car & Midget Magazine. “He was always right there in the top five, no matter what we were running.

“And he was a good, clean race driver who respected the fact you could get hurt in these things. I think that’s one of the reasons we got along so well.”

Starting out in his dad’s midget (named ‘Ol Blue) in the late ‘60s, Larry quickly caught on and was hooked up with legendary owner Bob Higman’s by 1972. They towed and worked on that midget all over the country as Carter clipped them for the USAC title but Rice came back to win the championship in 1973.

A Ball State grad, Larry was teaching school in Crawfordsville while learning the ropes of racing and had to make a decision: stay in the real world and be a weekend warrior or try to make it as a professional race driver.

Obviously, he opted for the latter and upon that decision, moved to Indianapolis where he bought a home about a mile east of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. That’s where his generous side really surfaced.

I rented me one of the bedrooms. Soon to be USAC star Chuck Gurney came back from California and occupied the basement. Indy driver Larry McCoy nested upstairs and aspiring racer Mark Alderson lived in the driveway in his motor home.

As you might imagine, we didn’t lack for fun and 1917 Goodlet became a combination of a YMCA, poker club, speed shop, tavern and nightly stop for the racing crowd. Our first May party drew 400 people, singer Marty Robbins, two blocks of unhappy neighbors and the Indianapolis Police Department.

Larry The Landlord only had one rule: no working on engines in the basement but his house was always open and sometimes he wasn’t even sure who that was sleeping on his floor. When Gurney stepped out with a married woman and was tailed home by her rather large and angry husband, Rice put up signs pointing to Larry’s Room, Robin’s Room and Chuck’s Room so he and I wouldn’t get shot.
Larry (center) and Jerry Sneva (right) accept their checks for the The Last Row Party from author Miller in 1978. (Courtesy of Robin Miller)

Rice’s first date with a pretty redhead (Bev) who would become his wife was at Eldora Speedway but that almost seemed romantic compared to the first time she saw his living conditions.

His initial Indy car ride in 1974 didn’t show up (thankfully) in time for him to take his rookie test and he finally returned to IMS in 1978, where he qualified an older car, ran all day, finished 11th and shared rookie honors with some guy named Mears. He also made the show in 1979.

In both of those Mays, Larry had no teammate, no backup car and nothing approaching a budget so he proceeded with care. He’d run a couple corners hard to feel out his chassis and, if it hinted at stepping out, he’d bring it right into the pits.

In 1979, after blowing an engine on the morning of the final day of qualifying, owner Pat Santello mortgaged the farm for another motor and Rice, with no practice laps, went out and stuck it in the show during the closing minutes.

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