Dan Gurney Walked into My House

Image from AllAmericanRacers.com

The man who could be President walked into my house without so much as a knock on the door. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Dan Gurney stood in my living room before I could get out of my chair to greet him.

I had met many motorsport celebrities to this point, most of whom didn’t impress me. But Gurney was different. He was carrying himself as the common man without any fuss, even though his motorsports pedigree rivaled Mario Andretti, Phil Hill and all the greats of F1 and Indycar.

Gurney was in his later years running All American Racers in Southern California and producing components for the automotive and aircraft markets. He was fit as ever and curious. He wanted to learn about the next generation of car enthusiasts. What makes them tick… sort of thing. It was 2001, and the perception of what defines the model hot-rodder in the new millennium was gaining steam. Import versus Domestic was as real as the Fast and the Furious box office smash hit.

I was the Editor-In-Chief of Sport Compact Car, and knee-deep in small displacement performance cars, and Gurney was likely ready to jump into the trend like he did with everything. By doing research.

Gurney was still actively involved with Ford at the time too, and it’s possible that he was going to produce a line of Ford Focus performance products with AAR aimed at an emerging audience of enthusiasts. I never asked him what he was up to, and I never asked him for a selfie. I don’t think either question deserved a reply.

Gurney was searching for something, and I was simply the piece of the puzzle. I was told by Ford’s PR department (John Clinard) that Gurney would stop by around noon. We had sandwiches ready.

There I sat with Gurney across from me on a small dining room table eating our sandwiches and talking shop. Unbelievable. But true.

It’s also a fact that in 1964 Car and Driver magazine announced in print that Gurney should run for President, and people were seriously considering voting for him. There he was two feet from me devouring a turkey sandwich and chips like a long-lost friend.

For the next hour, Gurney quizzed me about the enthusiast market, and his likely competition if he decided to move ahead. My answers were brief, and to the point, and he nodded his approval between bites. Like he was checking things off his list.

I’ll never know if he got what he was searching for, or if he had another agenda. What I do know is Gurney was exactly like the neighbor who came over to borrow something. He was on some kind of mission, and I was the keeper of information.

I was a magazine editor, and everything I knew came from interviewing hundreds of other people. The only wisdom I might share with Gurney was in the public domain if you knew where to look. But Gurney knew better. Go to the top when you’re looking for answers.

Still, Gurney asked. This went on for a while longer until he stood up, turned thanked my wife Janey for the lunch, and walked away.

I look back on that brief encounter with Gurney and wonder if he ever achieved what he was hoping to accomplish. I’ll never know.

What I do know is he would have made a great President.