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The
first manufacturer in our "My First Drag Race" series is Bob Stange,
the owner of Strange Engineering in Evanston, Ill. Stange began working
out of a two-car garage in the late 1950s, doing rear end and suspension
work for local racers. Over the years, his hard work and invention led
to the founding of Strange Engineering (named after the tendency of
people getting his last name wrong - it's pronounced stang-ee) in the
1960s where Stange and his crew manufactured an unbelievable line of
racing hardware. Everything from racing axles, rear ends, spools, rear
suspension units, and struts to front and rear disc brakes and billet
magnesium blower drives were developed over the next 40 years, much
of these items "first-of-a-kind" equipment. In 1983, Stange formed Team
Strange, a racing group consisting of Chris Karamesines (Top Fuel),
Austin Coil and Frank Hawley's "Chi-Town Hustler" (Funny Car), Albert
Clark-Don Coonce (Pro Stock), Amy Faulk (Alcohol Dragster), Fred Mandolini
(Alcohol Funny Car), Larry Kopp (Competition), and Keith Lynch (Super
Stock), a unit considered by many experts as one of the great manufacturer-backed
race teams of all time. Out of this group Hawley, Mandolini, Kopp, and
Lynch were Winston World Champions. Over the years Stange has had racers
like Don Garlits, Coil, Lee Beard, John Force, and hundreds of others
use his products. He also raced himself, mostly on the street, and this
memory comes from that period.
I guess it was in the late 1950s, and I street raced a lot. I raced
in and around Evanston, and where I ran most of the guys had Fords;
there weren't that many Chevys.
There was this one guy named Bob Chapman, who really thought of himself
as the Chevy guy. This isn't the Chapman Automotive (a big Chicago-area,
race car-backing speed shop in the 1960s) guy. Bob was into security
equipment, hood locks, burglar alarms that sort of thing. But anyway,
he came out one night looking for me, figured beating me would be a
feather in his cap or some such thing. He had a black '58 Chevy Biscayne
and I guess it ran pretty good from what I was told.
At the time, I had a '50 Ford with a wide block in it and it ran pretty
good. It was powered by a 312-cid engine and I had some seats in there
that the old rocket racer Chuck Suba's dad made for me instead of the
bench seat. In between the seats, I had one of those old G.I. five-gallon
gas cans and on top of it, I had put a sprint car pump. What I used
to do was while I was racing, I would pump that thing to force more
gas into the engine, you know build up the fuel pressure. It worked
great and it's a wonder that I didn't flood that thing and set myself
and the car on fire. It wasn't the safest way of doing things, but when
you're economically stressed you do stuff like that.
So anyway, one night, I was cruising Gulf Road outside of Evanston
and we run into each other. One thing leads to another and we go at
it from a stop light. I ate him alive. He wasn't satisfied with that
race, so we went to the next stop light and did it again, just ate him
up. That really pissed him off.
I was a little pissed off, too, but not at him. The cops stopped us
that night.
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