There will be big doings at the next running of the Daytona 500 in February. It is the 50th running of the Great American Race.
A lot of writers are gathering info about the drivers in the field for the first Daytona 500 in 1959. I have received inquiries about Ben Benz of Far Rockaway, N.Y. People think I must know him since he’s from my area, and I did know him quite well.
He was born Bernard Friedland. He began racing modifieds in the 1950s and soon became pals with Freeport’s all-time winner Bruno Brackey, who lived nearby. Benny’s family was not happy with his love for racing.
He raced under several aliases, notably “Ben Freud.” I guess he thought he’d “psyche” out the competition.
Benny seldom won anything, but he liked the modifieds — the only division he ever raced in. He was a “rabbit,” often jumping out in front, but they’d always catch him. One night, he was running away with a feature when the hood on his car popped open.
Benny wanted to run with the big boys and travel around. In 1958, he bought a ’57 Chevy from Bob Welborn, NASCAR’s reigning convertible champ. In those days, you could run Grand National, take the top off and run with the rag tops or race NASCAR’s short-track division. He then became “Ben Benz.”
Benny heard about the opening of Daytona in 1959 and wanted to race there. He towed his No. 55 down south.
One of Benny’s problems was he knew nothing about cars. He’d take it to a shop down south and they’d always charge him double. They thought a Jewish boy from New York City had money, but Benny was a cab driver by trade.
Benny managed to make the field handily, starting 30th in a 59-car field. Bruno Brackey really wanted to race in the 500. He was under “lifetime suspension” from NASCAR because he raced under the name “Johnny Frank” while winning sportsman championships at Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City. He was also racing at Freeport at the time. A disgruntled car owner turned him in to Bob Sall.
Every time Benny pitted in the 500, Bruno wanted to sneak behind the wheel, but regional director Sall was on to him. Benny finished 27th, 31 laps behind winner Lee Petty. He earned $200. Five running cars finished behind him.
Benny took the Chevy and raced it all over. Once at Martinsville, he spun into the infield and crashed into a spectator’s car. Benny dutifully exchanged paperwork with the guy and got back in the race.
When Ed Otto built a quarter-mile track at the Polo Grounds, it gave Benny a chance to race near home. Petty was leading the 200-lap short track race, but wound up in the wall after tangling with Benny’s lapped car.
After the race, Petty, brandishing a big wrench ran after Benny saying, “Someday I’m gonna kill you, Benny.”
Benny ran quite a few races, always midpack. When the Penn Mar club started running late-model races down the Atlantic seaboard, Benny ran with them, often with Brackey driving. They finished fifth at Trenton, N.J., once.
After the Chevy wore out, Benny didn’t drive anymore. In 1963, I owned two sedans to be raced at Freeport. I already had a driver and Benny pestered me to get another car, but I didn’t have another $200 in my budget.
Benny was evident as a spectator. I last saw him a few years ago at an old-timers reunion. He has since passed away. He was nearly 90. He has the distinction of being the only NASCAR driver buried in Israel.
A lot of NASCAR’s Hall of Famers were in that first Daytona 500. Benny, the Jewish cab driver, was out there, too, and he finished the race.