The familiar “tick, tick, tick” of a rapidly cooling race engine was helping to soothe the stress and excitement of a long weekend. It was a warm summer evening and dusk was beginning to ensconce Indianapolis Raceway Park. A tired Paul Rossi was silently enjoying the satisfaction that comes from just having made it to the 1964 National semi-finals of Super Stock Eliminator. His peaceful introspection was shattered by an inquisitive, yet stern voice from behind, demanding “Who ARE you?” Startled, Rossi turned to recognize the brother of the West Coast Champion, the opponent he had just beaten. Perplexed, he offered the meek response of “Me? I’m nobody.” As the figure trudged off into the twilight, Rossi chuckled to himself while staring back at his mighty Plymouth. “That’s right; Dick Landy just got his ass kicked by a nobody.”
Let’s fire up the Way-Back Machine and start at the beginning. In the beginning there were dinosaurs, but they were big and stupid and they died. Well, maybe not quite that far back. Let’s visit Dearborn, Michigan, 1960 and not a Muslim in sight. Young Paul Rossi had come of age and was expected by his blue collar family to learn a trade. In Dearborn, that meant two choices – work for Ford Motor Company or learn to throw dice on the corner. As such, Paul’s uncle just happened to be an AFL-CIO union rep and secured him an immediate position as an apprentice in the pipe-fitters union, deep in the bowels of the Ford factory. Erstwhile, Paul’s father was a FoMoCo lifer, having started in the fields of the Ford Trade School and culminating his career as a “roller” in the steel mill, one of the most dangerous yet highest paying hourly positions at the company. Alas, the choice was made for Paul even before he was born.
Then, like today, there was a hierarchy of labor and you were expected to do your own job, nothing more, nothing less. As a free-thinker, he had difficulty adjusting to this union mentality and it was only a matter of time before he landed himself somewhere between hot water and exile. Under the constant and supposedly watchful care of a journeyman, he was required to amass a total of 8000 man hours while also attending evening classes at Ford Community College. His first experience was cleaning the “bonderizing” tanks – the area where bare steel bodies were sprayed with a chemical process to prepare the vehicles for paint. Problems began when Uncle Rossi paid him a visit, only to determine that Paul’s journeyman handler was nowhere to be found (leaving an apprentice alone was a huge union no-no.) Though no fault of his own, he was quickly relegated to the basement, where, not surprisingly for the times, he found himself paired with a young black journeyman. Despite constant suggestion box contributions – ideas learned in his college course work – Paul learned that everyone was more concerned with job security and a stable work environment rather than improving safety and productivity. Frustrated by inefficiency, Paul made one final suggestion the following year. FoMoCo boilers utilized miles of pipe and fittings, and he had just learned about a new technology from Goodyear which could quickly and easily replace them with high-pressure flexible hoses. No more broken pipe, no more leaky fittings, and no more pipe fitters – oops. Regardless, he presented his bright idea to the plant manager and obviously was quickly, but politely, rejected. Imagine his surprise weeks later, when the men arrived Monday morning to find that non-union workers had replaced the entire pipe system with brand new hose over the course of the weekend. Not only did the manager take credit for the idea, he collected the lucrative bonus handed out to employees who save the company big money, a bonus that Paul received none of. Surprise, indeed. As we’ll soon see, this became the first of many times that Paul Rossi was screwed over by the man.
During all of this time, Paul was involved with his first love – automobiles.
Throughout junior and high school he had worked to support this exciting, new habit. A stint at Stacy’s Mobil Service Center at the age of 12 resulted in the purchase of a 1931 Plymouth for the pricey sum of $85. By age 15 he was hard at work volunteering as a crew member on a record setting A/Altered known as Walt’s Puffer while adding “local hardware store clerk” to his resume as well as continuing to soak up knowledge, and mop water, at the Mobil station. As a reward to himself, a short trip to Inkster, Michigan, with a pocket full of hard earned cash, netted him a James Dean style ’51 Merc with bubble skirts and a flat head V8. In true hot rodder fashion, it was out with the old and in with the Olds – an overhead valve Golden Rocket V8 with J-2 manifolds, three Stromberg carbs (his first six pack) and a 3-speed Ford transmission courtesy of an Honest Charlie adapter kit. Five days after he finished the car, he used it to take his driver’s license exam, but his pride was short lived after he was beaten in a street race by a brand new ’56 Chevy. Calling upon the Bank of Mom, Paul was soon behind the wheel of a shiny black ’57 Chevy 210 with a stick and the Power Pack option, for the low, low price of just $12 per week. In a never ending quest for speed, next come a ’58 Pontiac Catalina followed by a similarly fuel injected 283 powered 1960 Corvette. Now a fixture at Detroit Dragway competing in C/Sports, Paul was becoming quite proficient at modifying fuel injection systems both for him and others, but was dismayed at the fact that race fans weren’t interested in watching sports cars.
In 1963 he was introduced to Chrysler’s Maximum Performance offering, courtesy of some high school buddies who knew the owner of a local country club. The gentleman in question had just purchased a new Super Stock Dodge, but did not possess the requisite mechanical knowledge to realize it’s full potential. He was familiar with the success of Paul’s Corvette and hired him to “super tune” his racer, resulting in five wins in its next six outings. Impressed to say the least, Paul marched into Westborn Chrysler Plymouth and expressed his wishes for a brand new race car. The sales manager had recently arrived from a competing Ford store and knew the value of sponsorship, as he had previously secured a deal for Dave “Wild Thang” Lyle. Paul was offered a car at cost, any and all parts needed and use of the service bay on evenings and weekends. Though spec’d otherwise, the car arrived sans hood scoop and aluminum front end, however through the dealer’s connections a wrecked aluminum car was located and scavenged for parts. Armed with all new equipment and a big time dealership sponsorship, Rossi was sent out to do battle with Bob Ford and Royal Pontiac.
At his first appearance in Super Stock at Detroit Dragway, Rossi’s well-honed, self-taught tuning abilities and driving prowess resulted in a final round appearance with non-other than the Ramchargers team. Content with a runner-up appearance, Rossi experienced his first ever “tear-down;” a somewhat random inspection from NHRA for race finalists and record setters. The racer is quarantined and expected to disassemble on his own, and present to technical personnel a cylinder head, rod and piston or camshaft. If the racer is within the legal tolerances for his class, as specified by the rule book, he is allowed to re assemble his own engine overnight and continue racing. Rossi passed.
His subsequent success did not go unnoticed. At the 1963 US Nationals a Chrysler rep asked if driver Bill Shirey could run Rossi’s car against Bill Jenkins in the top ranked A/Factory Experimental class. Though the outcome of that race wasn’t in Chrysler’s favor, it was noted that Rossi’s Max Wedge was consistently quicker than the entire fleet of new factory engineered Hemi cars. Fifty some Mopars participated in S/SA that weekend in Indianapolis, Butch Leal among them. Meeting for the first time in the staging lanes, Leal confided in his soon to be life-long friend. “I don’t have first gear.” “What? What are you gonna do?” Rossi responded “Make him red light” Leal replied, staring solemnly at the starting line. True to form, as the tree counted down, Leal mashed the throttle in neutral, startling his opponent into a foul start.
When the final rounds rolled around, it was the Dodge Ramchargers versus the Plymouth Golden Commandos, and Butch Leal versus Paul Rossi. Before their semi-final call, Rossi was approached by the NHRA officials and was told in no uncertain terms “You’re racing the Commandos.” “Uh, no. The ladder has me racing Butch.” What followed was an explanation in no uncertain terms that NHRA demanded that two factory teams race in the finals. Failure to comply would result in a disqualification for a yet to be determined technical violation. Rossi lost to the Golden Commandos. Screwed by the man, Part Deux. It wasn’t all bad, as Westborn Chrysler presented him with a 1964 Hemi Plymouth halfway through the season.
For the 1965 season, Westborn updated Rossi with a brand spanking new 1965 A990 Hemi Plymouth, complete with a magnesium intake, aluminum heads and lightweight front fenders. Upon arriving at the season opening Winternationals in Pomona, California, he was surprised to see a plethora of ’65 models already converted to an altered wheelbase A/FX configuration. Unable to acquire such a car, Rossi demanded to convert his on his own. He figured it shouldn’t be a big deal, as he has already mated a two and a half ton GMC truck with a Volkswagen bus to create an awkward, yet roomy car/parts/crew hauler - Dave Koffel style.
Shortly after the car’s completion however, Rossi was approached by Al Turner, the boss of Lincoln-Mercury’s race division. Though Dyno Don Nicholson, Hayden Proffitt, George DeLorean and Arnie “the Farmer” Beswick were under contract with Mercury, it seemed Beswick was pressuring his bosses to allow him to return to his beloved GTO “funny car.” Turner realized that a racer’s long distance travel time negatively affected race results, and with Nicholson on the west coast and Hayden in Texas, the team needed another Midwesterner to replace the Farmer. Paul Rossi got the nod, and was presented the Cincinnati Mercury Dealers Comet intended for Beswick, along with all the parts he could carry and a whopping $800 per month contract. So, what was he to do with the Plymouth that had been freshly made into a show piece, resplendent in Ford Poppy Orange with orange tinted glass? The car found a new home with the McKesson Brothers in Flat Rock, Michigan; where it went on to enjoy fortune and fame, and is still recognized on the nostalgia circuit today.
Next issue: Time for a break from racing. Coffee, tea or Rossi?
Photos courtesy of the Paul Rossi collection
1. Paul Rossi gives his approval to Warren, Michigan’s David Kruk, the current owner and care taker of Rossi’s original ’63 Max Wedge Plymouth.
2. No caption needed.
3. His long awaited first Hemi car. Due to carburetor issues during development, Rossi’s A990 wasn’t shipped until June of 1964.
4. King Kong indeed. Paul and his buddies taking names in the Motor City.
5. A regular attendee at Cobo Hall’s Detroit AutoRama, Rossi was always representing. Here’s his hauler and ’64 Hemi highlighting Westborn Chrysler Plymouth’s “Roaring ‘65s” display.
6. Heading to the 1965 NHRA Winter Nationals with his brand new, still unaltered, A990 Hemi. You can write your own caption for the hauler.
7. Securing a sweet deal from Mercury early in the ’65 season, Rossi takes delivery of his new Comet.
8. Rossi’s final ride before going on hiatus until the early seventies. This Single Over Head Cam A/FX was a pretty bad ass car (for a Ford.)
9. Rossi’s original aluminum nose ’63 Max Wedge super stocker as it exists today.
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