CONTENT WARNING. READ IF YOU DARE. (NOT TOO GRAPHIC)

I was struggling thinking about what I should cover in the newsletter for this week. So rationally my normal brain went to a dark moment in human history immediately.

I know I mention my love for cars here and there, but I think it is time I talk about racing’s deadliest catastrophe of all time.

Why?

For one, it changed racing forever. More importantly, it’s why there are tons of safety regulations in the auto industry––and proof cutting corners costs lives. Most importantly, to me, is that you probably have never heard of it.

But in 1955 France, all you could hear was the screaming roar of foreign engines.

A rattling intensity loomed in the air at the 1955 Le Mans 24-hour endurance race. Le Mans was a little different than your typical sportscar racing track event. It took place over 24 hours, challenging both the car and its drivers to survive and push through to the finish line.

It was dubbed the greatest motorsports race in the world at the time. Spectators (mainly Europeans) came from all over to see their countries attempts to make the fastest street-legal rocket. About 250,000 to 300,000 people were at the ‘55 race.

But this was also 1955. French and British automobile companies were racing against German and Italian manufacturers who bombed their countries just 10 years prior.

In fact, Nazis imprisoned French resistance fighters in an internment camp just a few miles away from the Circuit de la Sarthe (the race track) in Le Mans, France. So both the drivers, the automotive company employees, and the race’s audience all had that fun thing known as World War 2 still in the back of their head.

Fun fact: the 24-hour Le Mans race is also the race that takes place in Ford vs. Ferrari’s third act, though that story takes place in 1966.

The D-shaped, eight miles long Circuit de la Sarthe racetrack was rebuilt in 1949 after being destroyed by German bombers in the second World War. But it still had a 30 year old design from when cars’ top speeds were much slower. Even in the nifty fifties, most of the public roads in Le Mans still used horse-drawn wagons.

In 1950, the fastest lap recorded on the track was done at an average of 102.7 miles an hour. In 1954, both Jaguar and Ferrari were able to surpass 115 mph. In 1955, Eugenio Castellotti of Ferrari hit an average speed of 118.56 mph in their fastest lap.

For the record, these were not the top speeds cars were able to achieve at the time. These were just the highest speeds you would average on the track before having to abruptly slow down for a sharp turn.

After a few years of not racing, Mercedes returned in 1955 with a brand new engineered machine. The vehicle they entered in the Le Mans race, the Mercedes Benz 300 SLR, could hit 181.57 miles per hour on a straight. Its body was made of ultralight magnesium alloy. This let the car emit an unholy scream as it flew down asphalt. To all their competitors––Jaguar, Ferrari, Austin Healy, Maserati, Porsche, the list goes on––it seemed unbeatable.

We have to stay on this car for a minute. That ultralight magnesium alloy made the car super light, super fast, and unfortunately, super flammable. This was a much earlier time in automotive racing where there were way less regulations, and thus, limitations for these racecars. Of course these teams are going to engineer as many weird parts to anything so they can to win and bring a fat paycheck home.

It pretty much was whoever makes the best machine, paired with hopefully the best driver, is most likely to win. But these drivers are also constantly racing for 24 hours––which as grueling as it was––back then it was not seen that draining. Sure, the winner matters, but endurance just does as much in this race.

This was the 1950’s. Racecars weren’t solely considered a luxury representation for car companies, they also were fighting to be the fastest rocket around the world. These companies were still figuring out how aerodynamics truly impact the performance of a machine.

They were experimenting with relatively new technology in the races that didn’t have to go through years and years of safe tests.

So besides the flammable frame, Mercedes decided to attach this weird hinge flap on the rear of all their racecars. None of the other automotive groups did this, nor knew what it was. It was used to help slow down the car at the end of a straight by creating drag––similar to the wing flaps of an airplane. Here’s a shot of the flap in action:

The driver would have to pull a lever to raise it, then release when having to reset it. This was really useful on the Mulsanne Straight on the Circuit de la Sarthe, where cars finally have the opportunity to speed up as much as possible before having to slam the brakes. The best built cars could hit up to 180mph before having to slow down on the straight.

Simply put, the flap helped the car overtake its competitors.

And everyone hated it, besides those autobahn lovin’ Germans. Rival drivers were left confused on the track. It obstructed views on corners. A Porsche driver thought the car’s trunk latch broke off and was about to fly off towards them.

Anyways, at the 1955 24-hour Le Mans race, there were a few different types of cars representing their companies and statehood. Mercedes had their 300 SLR.

Ferrari had their 121LM, but their parts were a little more shabby and unreliable.

Jaguar, the best vehicular representation of the British at the time, were racing their aerodynamic D-Type. It was super fast and had the industry’s ‘state-of-the-art’ brake disc system at the time. These brakes were a part of the new tech that wasn’t tested that much, let alone known to the public.

For British lore, Jaguar won the Le Mans race in 1953 but lost to Ferrari in 1954 by just a few minutes. Jaguar also had no Formula 1 team at the time (unlike Ferrari and Mercedes) so this race event was really their opportunity to bring home the gold.

One of the leading drivers was Jaguar’s Mike Hawthorn, racing in a green Jaguar D-Type. Mike Hawthorn was a 26 year old English star. He was known as a rowdy stylish playboy type then.

Juan Fangio was Mercedes-Benz’s best driver behind the 300 SLR. For the 1955 race, Fangio was statistically the best driver paired with the statistically best car. It seemed inevitable for the Argentinian to win.

I forgot to clear something up. Because this is a non-stop 24 hour race, each team needs several drivers. Mercedes recruited this multinational squad, including Fangio. Their Max Verstappen, or something. Each team had racing partners, usually about 6 per team.

At the bottom of Mercedes Benz roster was an American, John Fitch, paired up with Frances’ own Pierre Levegh.

Pierre Levegh was in the lull of his racing career. He was a 49 year old driver semi-popular with French racing fans. But it was weird he was chosen with this group of stars for Mercedes Benz. He was fairly past his prime.

Levegh was a huge fan of the French race since he was a kid. He attended every Le Mans since 1930. He placed fourth in the race driving a Talbot with a co-driver in 1951. The next year Pierre entered a Talbot in the race that he fully worked on himself. He ignorantly insisted on going the distance alone. Levegh isolated himself.

So now we’re three years after Pierre’s lil midlife racing crisis. John Fitch, his partner in the ‘55 race, described him as a “general air of deep reflection.”

4:00 P.M. on June 11, 1955. Drivers from around the world sprint across hot asphalt to jump into their metal machines composed of oil, grit, and vigor.

Half an hour in, the top three cars––Hawthorn (Jaguar.), Fangio (Benz), and Castellotti (Ferrari)––are already lapping the other cars.

Castellotti’s foot slips on the brake pedal, allowing both Hawthorn and Fangio to pass him.

Hawthorn and Fangio, or Jaguar and Mercedes Benz, or Britain and Germany, or the Allies vs. the Axis powers, are finally neck and neck. WW3 is back.

Juan Fangio promptly takes the lead on the 18th lap, getting in Mike Hawthorn’s head. In an interview a few years later Hawthorn claimed, “Then I came to my senses and thought: ‘Damn it, why should a German car beat a British car?’” before overtaking Fangio’s 300 SLR and entering the lead once again.

Fangio was smart, smooth, and tactical on the track. He took bends with risk. On the other hand, Hawthorn embraced the whole maximum effort mentality. He was instructed to “push on as hard as hell with no thought of finishing” and that was exactly what he did.

Until he made his first pit entry at 6:29 P.M.

Hawthorn, still in the lead, is now on Lap 31. He received the signal to refuel and swap drivers after lap 32.

Hawthorn comes out of a turn and floors it towards the pit straight. At the time, pit lanes did not exist yet. Where the cars are parked in that photo of the drivers running is where the pit was located at the time. Just off to the side of the dangerous racetrack.

Mike Hawthorn wants to badly get this lap over and pull over for a pit stop. He passes Pierre Levegh in his Mercedes Benz 300 SLR, lapping him for the first time.

Mike continues to drive past and spots a car up ahead that he has already lapped three times: an Austin-Healey 100S being driven by Lance Macklin.

Lance Macklin looks in his rearview mirror and sees a green Jag (stud Mike Hawthorn) and a silver Mercedes (washed Pierre Levegh) coming up behind him.

Macklin slowly veers to the right so the two cars behind can pass him on the left. He’s going roughly 135 miles per hour.

Hawthorn finally passes Lance Macklin, as expected.

But instead of continuing down the track on the left, Mike Hawthorn pulls in front of the Austin-Healey rather quickly for his pit stop he’s been planning on. Hawthorn raises his hand to demonstrate he is pitting and jolts his ride to the right.

He trusts his top-notch Jaguar disc brakes. So he begins to slow down at such a fast speed.

Macklin is thrown off guard in his Austin-Healey because the Jaguar slowed down so fast because of these brakes. His 100S does not have the brake power like the Jag. So Lance Macklin then slams on his brakes to avoid colliding in the rear-end of Hawthorn’s Jaguar.

Macklin naturally and luckily swerves left to avoid crashing into the pitted Jaguar.

While this super fast near-collision happens, Pierre Levegh is still in the left lane trying to catch up on the cars that have been lapping him. He’s going roughly 150 mph. Levegh is tired of eating the bolder, younger drivers’ dust. His fellow Mercedes teammate, Juan Fangio, is trailing behind him in his own 300 SLR too.

Levegh is trapped.

As Lance Macklin last-minute veers his 100S to the left, Pierre Levegh’s 300 SLR clips the sloped rear of Macklin’s car.

The 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR catches air and hits an embankment. Pierre Levegh’s car explodes on impact. The extremely-flammable body frame combusts and launches its heaviest parts (hood, engine mount, front axle etc.) directly into the crowd.

I don’t want to get too descriptive about the scene because frankly I might throw up. I won’t show anything too graphic I promise. This is the most graphic one I’m willing to share:

Minutes after the initial explosion. You can see the fire marshals dragging Levegh’s body away from the fire. Getty Images.

So the chassis of the 300SLR explodes and roasts on fire. Levegh’s body (he dies instantly) lies beneath his car’s undercarriage on the side of the track. Fifty or so people in the crowd were killed in an instant. Most of them are decapitated. 30 or so die quickly after. 120 other people experience non-fatal injuries.

So the explosion propelled the large engine mount and front axle of the Benz’s chassis extremely fast and directly towards a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd that was solely protected by a 4 foot tall wooden fence.

Here’s a wikihow-type graphic that explains the car collision just for clarity:

Macklin’s car (the blue one in the graphic) ricocheted off the pits, injuring a few crew members. Somehow he exited his vehicle in one piece.

The rear of Lance Macklin’s 100S after the collision.

Fangio, behind everyone, is still flooring it in his Mercedes Benz 300SLR. He witnesses the entire catastrophe in a few seconds. But Fangio is the tactical, precise driver. He noticed Levegh raise his arm in warning right before the initial collision. Levegh saved his life.

Fangio’s 300SLR drove so close while avoiding the colliding cars that a streak of green paint from one of the British cars was later found on his Mercedes.

Mike Hawthorn passes the Jaguar pits and stops. He steps out of his car and stares at the horror he was unaware of potentially causing. The rules at the time would not allow him to drive the car backwards. His team manager orders him to do another lap before swapping him with his driver partner.

Instantly, emergency medics and fire marshals arrive on the scene.

Panicking spectators flee in hordes. Volunteers turn advertising boards into stretchers while accordion music continues to play over the PA system.

The firemen spray water on the burning remnants of the Benz’s magnesium alloy frame. The water mistakenly fuels the fire, causing the 300 SLR’s remaining skeleton to cook even longer and brighter.

The sun begins to set.

The red glow from the roasting Mercedes Benz 300 SLR illuminates the night sky. Pierre Levegh’s limp corpse rests under it. Fellow drivers––unaware of what happened just a few turns up ahead––continue to speed past the nightmare.

The total deaths that day ended up being 82––including Levegh––making it the deadliest moment in motor sport racing history. But that’s not the worst part of this story.

The race kept going. For all 24 hours.

The organizers decided to make no public announcement. Ever. They claim it would ensue mass panic and disrupt the emergency vehicles––but come on. Eighty people just got mutilated and you act like nothing happened? You couldn’t have waited to stop it in the middle of the night at least?

People tuned into the event on their radios or televisions and find out about the deaths before most people who were still at the race.

John Fitch, Pierre Levegh’s driving partner, begs his team Mercedes-Benz to drop out.

Mercedes-Benz’s team manager asked Jaguar to do a joint withdrawal from the race. Jaguar declined. The Brits’ tunnel-vision for the throne was disgustingly fueled off petty revenge. (To be fair, the Germans bombed a lot of their country just a decade before.)

Benz finally pulls their cars from the race around midnight, about 6 hours later. Their cars continued to be in the lead until their manager claimed they “could now afford to retire.”

The sun rises. It begins pouring rain. The race is still happening. With Mercedes-Benz’s withdrawal, Jaguar claims a hollow victory led by Mike Hawthorn and his partner Ivor Bueb.

But those photos of him celebrating the win with champagne didn’t go well with the press.

Everyone had fingers to point and excuses to avoid blame. Mercedes Benz and Jaguar both claim innocence immediately. Probably because they both were to blame.

Mike Hawthorn published a memoir in 1958 titled Challenge Me The Race where he claimed no blame at all. Lance Macklin, the guy he cut off at the last second, read it and thought he was blaming it all on him. Since Pierre Levegh was dead and Mike preached innocence, Lance Macklin assumed Hawthorn thought he caused it.

Lance Macklin sued Mike Hawthorn for libel. At one point in time, they were close friends.

But the lawsuit was never resolved because Mike Hawthorn died a year later in 1959 by a non-racing car accident.

How did he die?

He lost control of his modified Jaguar while trying to overtake a Mercedes Benz 300 SL––a production car version of what he raced against in 1955.

The French government decided none of the drivers were specifically responsible and blamed the racing track’s dated design.

Motor racing was immediately banned in many European countries. Most brought it back in the next decade or so. Mercedes Benz withdrew from motorsport racing until rejoining three decades later in the mid 80s. Switzerland did not allow it to come back until 2022.

The next year, in 1956, the track’s infrastructure was heavily invested in. They widened the pit to remove a sharp turn and annexed a pit lane for deceleration. They reinforced barriers with cement. For the next decade or two, safety technology slowly grew and became a stronger staple within automotive racing.

I know this happened over in France, but it’s still crazy that it wasn’t until 30 years later where they finally mandated seat belts to be added into cars. New York was the first state in the U.S. to require them in 1984.

Here’s a fun fact I learned from this terrifying tragedy. John Fitch, Levegh’s partner who told Mercedes to drop out, became a huge advocate for safety measures on and off the track after witnessing the terror in 1955.

Shortly after, Fitch invented this impact attenuator system where you fill barrels with sand to embrace vehicular impact. He called it a Fitch Inertial Barrier. You’ve probably seen them around before:

Fitch barriers have at least saved about 17,000 lives since being introduced in the 1960s. They annually save about $400 million dollars in property damage and medical expenses too.

When safety measures are ignored in a world full of danger, it is inevitable for that ignored danger to come back even stronger than before.

One of the things I love about cars is that they are a physical, tangible product of art, math, and mechanics. Terrible for the environment? Absolutely. A leading cause in accidental deaths, financial debt, and parking lot colonization? Without a doubt. But that’s also because a bunch of dickheads in the 1950s saw cars as the ONLY technology worth investing in. There’s so many ways to make a profit with them: toll roads, oil changes, car insurance, gasoline in general, the list goes on and on and on.

We’re still living the consequences from the post-WW2 fantasy that a car-based infrastructure would expand life’s limitations, when really it just expanded ways to limit life.

Regardless of the societal consequences of cars, I still view engineering and design as a form of art. Especially sports cars built to break the glass ceiling of speed, looks, and handling. They used to sculpt cars out of clay, not 3-D models on CAD software.

I’m being dramatic. They used to sculpt car designs with clay a lot. They sometimes still do. But the reason why so many modern cars are uninventive and look extremely similar is because they all use the same damn CAD file.

Cars have been dangerous from the start. They’re a 3000 pound manifestation of all the good and the bad of humanity. A polluted entree served with a side of style, speed, and sport.

But the fact it took so many decades, so many innocent lives, just for governments to enforce seatbelts in the mid80s is mind boggling. Surely, private corporations can not influence our government institutions to ultimately ignore important public issues. Oh wait, that was legalized in the U.S. in 2010 with the Citizens United vs FEC case. (Go have a fun depressing read on that when you’re done with this fun depressing read.)

It was only a matter of time for these metal death traps (especially when the entire car’s frame is extremely flammable and full of oil and exhaust) to go beyond just risking the driver’s life. Especially when the cars are made from all these companies competing to sell more cars, willing to try new experimental tech to make sure they have enough cash flow the next quarter.

Anything can be dangerous. From a slice of apple pie to a 180 mph racecar, there’s so much out there that can kill us. So whenever we decide to implement and rely on new advancements we should always remember how many historical sacrifices occurred for how we got here in the first place. And also what we can apply from all our mistakes before to prevent any worse measures from repeating.

I don’t know, for starters, maybe we could regulate that extremely popular word-guessing generator that is convincing teenagers to kill themselves. You know, the one that is heavily marketed as being able to think for you? Oh wait, that company started a $220 million dollar contract with the Department of Defense earlier this year? That means they’re on our side now!

It’s terrible that eighty innocent civilians died at an event they were waiting an entire year for. But that traumatizing horrific event in human history was also why John Fitch thought about shoving sand in barrels. He saved tens of thousands of lives from car accidents because of what he experienced in just one day of his life.

So whenever there is a criticism of certain regulations “limiting our freedoms” in this country, do your research and learn what horrific moment in the past is the reason why we have protective measures like fitch barriers.

Here’s a few others I thought of: seatbelts, air bags, nutrition facts, expiration dates, warning labels, exit signs, fire escapes, vaccines, sex education, abortion rights, medicare, public libraries, global climate agreements, and the Department of Education.

Unless we want to go back to the time where the rotting remains of the innocent fill the stands as the race goes on.

Written by Max Van Hosen.