My gramma brought her transistor radio out to the front porch so we could listen to the race.
We had ham sandwiches on white bread with bread and butter pickles and ice tea. What was unusual, my gramma always made us sit at the table for meals. They all started and ended in prayer.
This was the only time she let me bring my lunch to the porch.
Oh and I forgot to mention…
The ham was carved from last night’s supper. The bread was baked in my gramma’s oven and someone in the family made the pickles. All homemade and never any snacks.
The race was a fight between Danny Ongais and Al Unser. My favorite drivers, AJ Foyt and Johnny Rutherford were never a threat. Unser won the race and my gramma scolded me for saying I hated the Unser family.
I never felt at home in Indiana, but I sure would love one more afternoon on that front porch on Indianola Avenue in Broad Ripple.
Sunday Funday and I have two growlers of BuckleDown for the race and the family cookout.
“Gentlemen, start your engines….”
