RED DAWSON - THE STORY The October 1976 meeting at Manfeild will remain in my subconscious for two of the most frightening things I have ever witnessed at a motor race meeting. It was a meeting with an emphasis on saloons — but F5000 were running with Formula Pacific for the first time. Occasional F1 and F5000 driver Frank Gardner was over from Australia with his highly modified Chev V8 powered Corvair — to all intents and purposes, a Formula 5000 car with a saloon car body. Gardner was thought to be the man to beat and, of the New Zealanders, Red Dawson was the man to give him the best run for his money. Red had completed a season with a new, American built Chevy Monza and was on top of his game, even if the Monza was a twitchy beast at times. An early race saw awful drama when Bill Leckie’s remarkably fast 4.2 litre Chev V8 powered Capri exploded. And I mean “exploded”. On the startline the cabin filled with petrol fumes from an overfilled tank, or a loose filler cap, or something, and shortly into the race there was a spark from the battery which exploded the fumes. To those of us on the sideline it was shocking. The car was always fast and Leckie was a good driver. He was up amongst the leaders and, with everything appearing to be normal, there was this deep, reverberating “Whoomp!” that literally shook the entire circuit. It was like a bomb shock. Initially, there seemed to be nothing wrong, but the car lost pace very quickly and then spun into the infield. For the first five or six seconds there seemed to be nothing wrong, but then the cockpit filled with flames — bright, ugly orange flames that burst out through the rear window and a towering column of black smoke billowed into the sky. Rescue workers were on the job quickly, but it seemed to take an eternity to get the driver out and the fire extinguished. Safety wasn’t taken as seriously then as it is today, and because his overalls were partly undone and he wasn’t wearing the heavy layers of flameproof material drivers now use, Bill Leckie suffered quite serious burns. The incident cast a pall over the meeting because it was so dramatic and frightening. But more was to come. In the second race, Red Dawson had made a great start to be leading Frank Gardner when, coming out of the fast right-hander into the start finish straight, the twitchy Monza, twitched, Red wound on opposite lock, but he couldn’t catch it, the car spun and headed for the infield where everyone thought the car would simply gyrate several times on the grass. It seemed to be heading for a harmless enough conclusion — except that there were drainage ditches on the infield at Manfeild and the Monza hit one, dug in and flipped. Even to that point, it looked no more than a minor enough racing incident, but that first roll led to another, then a corkscrew and more. With each movement the actions became more and more violent. The car was being destroyed before our eyes. There seemed to be no stopping — it went on and on, seemingly getting faster and leaping higher into the air with each roll. Finally it stopped, coming to a rest almost obscured from our vision by the grass. Rescuers rushed to the scene and, again, seemed to take an eternity to get the driver out. The Monza was a real racing car, built with an internal roll cage that was as strong and as tough as Mount Everest. You could see while parts were flying off the car on its wild careen, the basic structure was holding up. But the crash had been incredibly violent and the human body only capable of taking so much. Was Red OK? No. In the violence, he had taken a fearful founding and the steering wheel had belted him hard in the stomach. The car had come to a halt upside down and Red was hanging from his full harness for some time before rescuers could get him out. He was not in good shape and he was treated at the scene for a long time before being placed in an ambulance and taken to hospital. He took several months to recover, during which time the car was repaired and sold to an Australian. Red Dawson was 45 years of age and he never raced again. The long and colourful career of one of our most popular and versatile drivers was over. It wasn’t the way it should have been. Red Dawson had brought intense pleasure to a huge number of motor racing enthusiasts over a long, long time and in an extraordinary variety of cars — from beat-up stock cars, to pre-war V8 coupes, to sports cars, Tasman Formula single seaters and saloons. He had always raced for the sheer fun of it. He was competitive and he will always be remembered for his exuberance, his flamboyant style and, for a period, the arch-rivalry between himself and Paul Fahey. I never saw Red until about eight years later, I was on holiday in Arrowtown in Central Otago and a woman I knew to be Nita, Red’s wife, stopped me. She and Red were down from Auckland for a Jim Beam Collector’s convention. Red had never really completely recovered from that dreadful pounding and he had cancer, something that Nita felt was directly attributable to the crash. He died two years later — almost exactly ten years after that day at Manfeild. He was always Red Dawson, but he was always entered in the programme as I.W. Dawson — something that many people interpreted as his real name being “Ian”. It wasn’t, his name was Irvine, but he became “Red” because of his auburn hair. Red was born an Otahuhu boy and he died an Otahuhu boy. Red was born in 1931 and his parents owned a mixed farm just south of Otahuhu. Wiri actually. This was long before anyone had a vision of South Auckland becoming the vast, sprawling, modern metropolis it is today. Red’s father died when he was comparatively young and he took over the running of the farm. He was a successful farmer who worked hard, but he also had a love for cars — he was an Otahuhu boy, so the cars were American and the successful introduction of American style stock car racing in the late fifties caught his attention. He had a go and made friends with a similarly minded man, and fellow stock-car driver of about his own age — Johnny Riley. Together they embarked on what was almost a parallel career. They both raced stock cars and both got caught up in the great witch-hunt of the late fifties and early sixties when New Zealand motorsport authorities (the ANZCC) clamped down on drivers who wanted to compete in both stock cars and ANZCC sanctioned events, like hillclimbs and circuit racing. You WERE NOT allowed to do it! The ANZCC saw a real threat from the explosion of interest in stock car racing in Auckland — particularly when the Epsom Showgrounds became a venue. This was a legendary period in New Zealand stock car history and Red Dawson and John Riley were among those who created the legend. The ANZCC took tough action against any of “their” drivers who dared take part in this pirate form of racing where there were no rules and regulations — well, different rules and regulations. But after a short period of sensational headlines and banned drivers, sanity prevailed, although it was a long time before the ANZCC and MANZ that followed, saw that motorsport was motorsport no matter what sort of circuit it was staged on and took a more relaxed approach. I always felt that the move from stock cars to what was — and still is — regarded as the more sophisticated form of the sport was an unusual one for both men. Their interest in cars — and probably lifestyle too — was much more Yankee-driven than British or European. And their change from stock cars to hillclimbs and circuits reflected this — it was a change made via prewar American coupes. Red became a campaigner in a 1939 standard Ford V8 coupe. When the sidevalve expired, he replaced it with a Corvette motor and box — one of the first such conversions. Then he switched to a 1938 Willys — also fitted with a Corvette engine with gearbox. For the time, these were serious bits of kit and not at all inexpensive. I wish I knew Red’s reason’s for choosing a Willys coupe — the ’39 Ford coupe had been a pretty car, but nobody in their right might could ever call the Willys, with its underslung nose, pretty. Later, Red sold the Willys coupe to Dunedin’s Lin Neilson who wanted the engine and gearbox for the Mark III Zephyr he was building in the hope of emulating the success of Rod Coppins and the Zephyr Corvette. It was a disaster. But whatever became of the Willys? There was a lot of social activity about racing at that time and the Dawson and Riley families became very much a part of the Auckland motor racing scene. But there was also a developing “them and us” scene — the Otahuhu Crowd, which included drivers like — Ken Smith, Graeme Harvey, Barry Phillips, Rod Coppins and others — tended to be a group, almost a club — and then there were the others who weren’t from South Auckland . . . It added to the sense of competition. One of the problems of writing a historic story like this is the frustration at the lack of records and the decreasing number of people you can ask for information. . . I would love to have been around and heard the discussions when Red and John made the decision to move from stock cars to hillclimbs and circuit racing — to what the oval and speedway loving Americans called the “sporty” car scene. And I would have loved to have known the reasoning when they decided to go proper sports car racing. The move from stock cars to pre-war American coupes with wild motors is sort-of understandable. But, out of the apparent blue, Red decided to buy Barry Cottle’s Lola Climax sports car, while John Riley bought Doug Lawrence’s similar, but Ford powered version. It was Riley who had made the first of these unlikely moves — in 1961 he had bought the Monza Ferrari sports car from Bill Thomasen, another of the Otahuhu Club. But he replaced the fancy Italian four-cylinder engine with a big American Chev V8. Anyway, Red Dawson made the decision to buy the Cottle Lola — a sophisticated little car, a million light years away from anything else he had been racing up to then. It was small, it was nimble and it was fast. A long time ago, Red described the Lola to me as the best-handling, best-braking, best-steering car he ever drove — although it was underpowered. The Cottle family delivered the Lola from Dunedin to Renwick so that Red could make his debut in it. This was November 1963. But it wasn’t a happy debut. The Coventry Climax motor “expired” in quite a major way. By the Grand Prix meeting at Pukekohe in January both Red Dawson and John Riley were Lola sports car drivers and they both showed that they were not afraid to drive them as hard as they could. I remember going to that Pukekohe meeting and standing on the outside as the cars came down over the start/finish line and the drivers had to get hard on the brakes and go down through the gears for the highly entertaining Elbow, where something was always happening. Red Dawson appeared to be on the brink of disaster, arriving at the corner, lap after lap on opposite lock — not an easy thing to control in a car that didn’t boast bags of power. He was having the time of his life. But it was what Red did before arriving at the Grand Prix meeting to drive this sophisticated little sports car that really surprised me. While he was farming, Red’s first job each morning was to do the rounds of Auckland’s hotels and restaurants, picking up the left-over food which he took to the piggery on the farm. Then it was out of his overall and gumboots, into his racing overalls and off to the track. If my curiosity was aroused by the moves from stock cars to pre-war coupes and then to little British sports cars, it was the next step that was a quantum leap. Red and John both bought the very best single seater racing cars that New Zealand had to offer. What sort of conversation had that been? John Riley bought the 2.5 litre Lotus 18/21 Climax from Tony Shelly while Red bought the ex Angus Hyslop, Jim Palmer 2.5 Cooper Climax. The latter was a double Gold Star winning car. These were both about as close to Formula One cars as you could get. In what was perhaps Otahuhu style, the Lotus was painted candy-apple red — a real hot-rod colour and an eye-opener at the time. Red was more traditional and painted the Cooper metallic dark blue. As with the Lola sports cars, they both showed they weren’t afraid to grab these demanding cars by the neck and show them who was boss. It was always thought that the Lotus was the better of the two cars, although the Cooper had been the most successful — and that’s the way it continued. Red was, by a slight margin, the harder charger of the two. But he paid a penalty — the Cooper transmission, always a weak point, failed time after time. But, when it was running, he made the Cooper really talk. Again, the Dawson and the Riley teams were virtually as one. You saw one, you saw the other. They travelled together, usually towing their racing cars with rare and desirable American cars like two door, fast-back Chev Impalas, imported from the USA. Although major results eluded him, Red really had the single seater bug by now and he went shopping for what was the best available car in the southern hemisphere — this was the 2.5 BT9 Brabham Climax raced in Australia under Team Total colour by Frank Matich. In this car, Matich had proved to be the match of the visiting international drivers in 1964 and Red took delivery of the car in time for the 65/66 New Zealand season. The Cooper was sold to Pat McLoughlin who was involved in a very unfair incident at the Grand Prix at Pukekohe in almost his first drive. This soured McLoughlin who took the car home and put it away, where it stayed until after his death in a road crash. It’s been owned now for a long time by Auckland car dealer Charlie Conway, who has repainted the car in the white with blue trim, as raced by Angus Hyslop and Jim Palmer. In the Brabham, Red Dawson had a good season, even though there was always a bit of a nagging doubt that the car hadn’t been quite delivered “as raced” — something of a tradition in those days. It always paid to stand at the finish line with your chequebook in hand and buy the car as soon as it finished the race. Red won the final ever Waimate 50 as well as a couple of meetings at Levin and also added several seconds and thirds to his record. He was good. His second season in the car netted him just one win as the Climax engine was getting tired and the newer cars were getting faster. But, by the second season he also had a new toy to go with the Brabham. Red Dawson was now a two-car team owner — he’d bought the ex Ivan Segedin “Fleetwood” Mustang. The car had arrived in New Zealand with a hiss and a roar, but despite Segedin’s impressive record as a driver, it just didn’t crack the pace. Segedin sat out a second season in the car, making only occasional appearances and the Mustang almost became a forgotten car, until Dawson bought it. In went a new motor, the suspension was given a haircut and Red immediately was competitive. And spectacular. Famously, he was invited by the South Canterbury Car Club to be the star attraction at the opening meeting of the new circuit at Levels. Even though he was very much the big fish in the small pond, Red Dawson put on a display that is still talked about today. He powered his way around the circuit using full opposite lock. Today, you’d call it drifting! By now, I had started “autoNEWS” in competition with Donn Anderson‘s “Motorman”. Some drivers complained that “Motorman” gave too much coverage to drivers who weren’t from the Otahuhu Crowd — Paul Fahey and Graeme Lawrence were singled out. So, as an option, I tended to give these others, the benefit of my editorial. I devoted some real space to Red’s efforts at entertaining the crowd at that Levels meeting and Red obviously was pleased. Without saying anything to me, he put large “autoNEWS” logos on the rear flanks of the Mustang. I arrived at the Grand Prix meeting at Pukekohe and was fair blown away when I saw that. So, over the next couple of years, the ontrack rivalry between the thems and us, the Otahuhu Crowd and the others, intensified and was reflected in the pages of the two motoring publications. Motorman tended to represent “them’ and autoNEWS “us”. Among the “us” Otahuhu Crowd it became tradition to have a picnic/barbecue at Maretai on the Sunday after the Grand Prix meeting that was always attended by some of the overseas drivers. It was a social highlight. That ended when racing was allowed on Sundays. Red was busy that season, switching from the Brabham to the Mustang at each meeting. It must have been a busy time for his team — Bill Minty, Denis Hamil and Bruce Newall. At the end of the season, Red made a decision — one car — and it would be a saloon. The Brabham was sold to old mate Bill Thomasen who put his son Charlie into it with terrible results. He rolled at his first appearance in the car at Baypark, broke his back and was confined to a wheelchair until he died about ten years ago. What happened to the Brabham isn’t entirely clear, but it may have been dismantled. The Mustang disappeared back onto the road and Red bought the later Mustang imported by Norman Frank Bryant Barry. In real life he was Norman Barry, motelier, but in the world of racing, he was Frank Bryant. This was a newer and faster car and Red Dawson with his forceful style became a leading contender for first place everytime he started. He loved Levin and was almost unbeatable there. He had wins and top placings, but it was Paul Fahey who won the title. That was a rough, tough, rugged season and the Dawson Mustang ended up with plenty of bruised panels. It was a season that cemented the name of Red Dawson in the lexicon of New Zealand motor racing. It was a season when fans were split — they were very much either on Red’s side, or Paul Fahey’s side. Red would have been a popular champion, but while he was fast and fiery, living up to his name “Red”, he wasn’t the cool, calm-under-pressure driver that Fahey was. In the meantime, the Dawson’s life had changed. South Auckland had overwhelmed the farm which had become the large Manukau City centre. Red and his family built a new house up in Redoubt Road, overlooking the site of the farm and Red went into car sales — in Otahuhu, alongside J.B. Riley! The Mustang was sold — amazingly it also disappeared off the tracks and back onto the road. Both of the Dawson Mustangs ended up in an Australian collection, but the later model car has now come “home” and is resident in Hawera. The Mustang was replaced by a Z-28 Camaro — a road car bought by Red and his team in the USA and converted into a racing car back here. It was a stunning looking car — both in the gold of Kensington Carpets in its first season and then the red and white of Marlboro. But it was a big, fat, heavy car and while it was a reasonably easy car to drive and Red was as forceful as ever, he wasn’t quite as successful as he had been with the second Mustang. However, he remained totally competitive and was still number one with the fans. And so, we are back to where we started — Don Peddie bought the Z-28 and Red imported the Monza — a smaller, more nimble but more difficult car to drive. But he was instantly competitive and a front-runner again. How long Red would have continued to drive for had it not have been for that day at Manfeild is something we will never know of course. But during his long tenure on tracks, speedways and hillclimbs, Red Dawson had always given his best. It was a long and spectacularly varied career — and I got to know Red, his wife Nita and daughter Suzanne (known as Jackie) quite well. He could be grumpy, he could be funny — but he was a character both on and off the track, with a deep distinctive voice. He never seemed to be a complicated person. Among the Otahuhu Crowd, there was a strong social side to the motor racing activities. After a Baypark meeting, when Norm Beechey was there with his Chev Nova, there was a great post-race party in the pits. Norm and Red were peas in a pod — they gravitated together and Norm had won a shipload of Glenvale wine — the sponsor’s products. There was laughter and hilarity as we all did our best to dispose of Norm’s winnings. As the sun started to set, things got wilder and at one stage Norm grabbed Red, said he was his best New Zealand mate and gave him a great big kiss on the cheek. The moment was caught on camera by Gavin Shaw and I promised them both I would put the photograph on the cover of autoNEWS. But, by the time I got home to Dunedin, there was an international cable from Norm back in Melbourne suggesting I not use the photograph. Those were homophobic days. But they were good days. As for the Z-28? It passed through the hands of Ross Cameron and Lawrence Bruce, was OSCAR-ised in the process and for the past 20 years has been under restoration in Dunedin, owned by Kelvin Towns.
Posted on: Mon, 24 Nov 2014 20:43:44 +0000
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