There Were Four Thousand In Blackburn - The T260 Had Just 207

1971 was a very significant year.  From a personal perspective, I started my automotive career-proper at BMW, while, much more significantly, the BRM P160 proved highly competitive in Formula 1, LPs of great quality were released, such as Sticky Fingers, Who’s Next and Tapestry, there was the announcement of cars like the Alfasud, Maserati Bora and BMW 2002 Tii, and . . . hope sprung of a new dawn in the Cam-Am Challenge, with the addition to the grid of the Lola T260 and its driver, Sir Jackie Stewart.

BRM at Monza, September 1971

A Lola T70 Mk.2 in the hands of John Surtees had won the inaugural Can-Am Challenge in ’66.  However, since then, the M8 McLaren in its various iterations had steam-rollered the opposition, firstly as the Bruce and Denny Show (Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme), then with Peter Revson partnering Hulme after McLaren’s death in 1970.  At the time, many of us resented the McLaren ‘win machine’ as the cause of the Group 7 series becoming boring because of repetitive, predictable results.

The Bruce (#4) & Denny (#5) Show, Laguna Seca, 1969. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

One of the very few series rivals to get anywhere near bothering the McLaren juggernaut was the Chaparral team of the innovatory Texan, Jim Hall.  Not content with seeking ultimate competitiveness from high downforce aerodynamics by mounting a tall rear wing on his 2E machine during the ’66 season, he surprised everyone four years later with his 2J – a car that achieved even more powerful ground effects by mechanically sucking air out from under its floor.  This was facilitated by a pair of rear-mounted fans and thus anticipated the similar solution devised by Gordon Murray for the Formula 1 Brabham BT 46B of 1978.  Not unexpected really, as his high wing concept had also found its way into Grand Prix racing during the 1969 season.  The 2J ran in only six Can-Am races in 1970, driven in the second of these – Watkins Glen – by the reigning F1 World Champion, Jackie Stewart.  In that first year of the new decade, Jackie was feeling the dispiriting effects of the deaths of several fellow drivers accumulated over the later years of the 1960s, and, ironically, persistent criticism of him about his safety campaigning.  Unsurprisingly, his enthusiasm for his profession was waning.  However, the revolutionary nature of the 2J was enough to revive his interest.  In his autobiography, Winning is Not Enough, he says: As we were discussing what to do about the Nurburgring, (its dangerous aspects) I was called away to take a telephone call from America.  It was Jim Hall, inviting me to drive the Chaparral in a sports car event, and, even in the middle of all that, I found myself getting as excited about the prospect of being behind the wheel of such a special car as I had at any stage of my life.  I instantly accepted his offer because the Chaparral was known as the most advanced racing car of its time.  Although his race at Watkins Glen ended in a retirement, the experience seems to have had a positive effect, for it was not too long before it was revealed that Stewart had reached agreement with Carl Haas to drive the new Lola 260T in a full 1971 Can-Am campaign.  Jackie was frank in the autobiography: The F1 season was my priority, but Cam-Am offered a second income stream that was hard to resist.

Jackie Stewart in the Chaparral 2J, Watkins Glen, 1970. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

Haas was a classic mid-century American automotive entrepreneur.  A Jewish immigrant to the ‘States just before WW2, he ran cars in several race series, including NASCAR, F5000, F1 and Indy/Champcar in addition to Can-Am, eventually becoming best known for his association with Hollywood’s Paul Newman and the formation of Newman/Haas/Lanigan Racing.  In the late sixties he contracted with Eric Broadley to act as the U.S. importer of Lola racing cars and developed the business to a highly successful level.  Broadley was happy to allow Haas to function as a works team and the American used his commercial nous to secure supportive sponsorship from cigarette makers, L & M.  Whilst Lolas had been a familiar part of the Can-Am scene in the late sixties, they had been relatively conventional and not front-of-the-grid competitive.  With such characteristics persisting in the new decade’s opening season’s Lolas – the T220 and T222 – Haas used all his powers of persuasion to convince Broadly that a more daring new design was essential if the perception of the Lola brand was not to be devalued because of lack-lustre results.

Left: Carl Haas at his business premises at Lincolnshire, Illinois. (Courtesy Racemaker/David Huson). 

Right: Haas with Eric Broadley, founder of Lola.  (Courtesy JKRacing50)

Broadley acceded to Haas’s entreaties and briefed his designer, Bob Marston.  He also sought input regarding bodywork from his associate, Peter Jackson, (and body engineer Peter Wright), at the expert glass fibre fabrication firm, Specialised Mouldings.  Broadley wanted a basically wedge shaped, compact form, with a relatively small overall footprint – he was keen for instance to avoid the substantial front end overhang seen on the McLarens.  But since the wedge format could, as had been seen with the Autocoast Ti-22 at Mont Tremblant in 1970, be prone to end-over-end loss of control incidents, the main aerodynamic emphasis was on the avoidance of front end lift, coupled with maximum possible downforce on the rear axle.  The latter was sought without any particular focus on the rear body surfaces but by simply using a large wing – not especially high mounted, but full width and located unusually far forward, most of its surface in front of the rear axle.  An additional distinctive bodywork feature was the presence of 207 small holes in the upper surface between the windscreen base and the front brake air duct openings.  These were for the purpose of releasing air that otherwise would cause a build-up of high pressure, and thus lift, underneath the front end of the monocoque floor.  The nose incorporated a depth-variable front splitter. 

Otherwise, the T260 was largely ‘state of the art’ for the time, featuring an aluminium monocoque, side mounted radiators, horizontal mounted, rocker arm actuated front springs and inboard brake discs, front and rear.  A relative novelty was the specification of 13” front wheels. The engine was a Foltz-built 8.1 litre big block Chevrolet V8 mated to a Hewland Mk.2 four speed transmission.  Output at 7,000 rpm was commonly quoted as being 700-760 bhp and 600+ lb-ft torque.  Foltz offered some options regarding the amount and spread of torque generated in order to make easier the evaluation of the car’s handling during the early stages of development. 

At the time, Frank Gardner – mostly known for his F5000 and saloon car exploits – was Lola’s test and development driver.  He was able to take the T260 out on track, (at Silverstone), for the first time in May 1971.  With the first round of the Can-Am due at Mosport in Canada in mid-June, scope was limited.  Gardner was quick to express his concern about this because it was immediately apparent that the car inherently understeered, and a ‘cure’ would likely require a considerable number of testing miles.

Gardner testing the T260 at Silverstone, May 1971.

Note especially the 13” front wheels and forward position of the wing. (Courtesy Motor Sport)

Stewart for his part encountered the car at Silverstone at the beginning of June.  The weather was against him – heavy rain – and his initial impressions are not recorded.  He had however already prevailed upon Broadley to make a significant change.  Ten months previously Jochen Rindt’s accident at Monza in the Lotus 72 still weighed heavily on the World Champion’s mind.  Not only were the Stewart and Rindt families very good friends, but Jackie was especially close to Jochen, considering the Austrian his principal rival on-track.  Though the sudden, violent sharp left hand swerve into the Parabolica armco was not per se the cause of Rindt’s death – that was attributable to his belts not being properly secured – Stewart was highly sceptical about the advisability of running inboard front brakes, given the possible consequences of a shaft failure.  Broadley had no alternative but to agree that the front brake discs be moved outboard.  At the same time, a similar revision was effected at the rear, since the limited testing so far completed had revealed problems with heat not being dissipated sufficiently from the discs.  And there was a knock-on from this.  To accommodate the relocated discs, larger diameter – 15” - front wheel rims were required – along with an enlargement of the leading curve of the wheel arch.

Stewart with the T260 at Silverstone, June 1971. (Courtesy Sutton Images)

We do know that Stewart at last had the chance to drive the T260 in unconstrained circumstances at the Mosport circuit on 10^th June.  His perception of the car’s handling characteristics – not helped by the bumpy nature of the track – were summed up by his apparent likening of the machine to a ‘pregnant elephant!’  The following day he was nevertheless able to set the day’s fastest time and this proved to be good enough for pole position when the Saturday session became rain affected.  Next day, at the opening round of the Can-Am season, he led the race from Hulme’s M8F, but retired just short of quarter distance because of a failed transmission seal.  The McLaren team had had a scare, but Hulme took the victory and the marque’s cars filled places 1-6 in the race results table.

Stewart’s T260 at Mosport, June 1971. The bigger front wheels and related re-profiled front wheel arch are evident. (Courtesy Jerry Bendl Collection)

Two weeks later, Round 2 of the Can-Am series was scheduled for Mont Tremblant.  Like Mosport, this was circuit notorious for its uneven track surface.  Stewart however was hoping for a better ride from the T260 as some additional changes had been made after the Mosport event.  The rear suspension geometry had been revised and the wing relocated a little further to the rear of the car.  But in practice and qualifying the car still proved to be hard work.  Stewart nevertheless managed to qualify the T260 2^nd, just three tenths slower than Hulme’s pole time and 1.8 seconds better than Peter Revson’s 3^rd place time in the second M8F.  Though Hulme maintained a lead for much of the race, he didn’t really get away from the Lola and when he flagged in the latter stages, Stewart was able to get past and take his car through to its maiden victory.

Stewart closes in on Hulme at Mont Tremblant, June 1971

Road Atlanta hosted Round 3 in mid-July.  Stewart qualified 3^rd, a full second off Hulme’s pole time.  The race was a mixed bag for the Lola – Stewart hustled it enough to record the race’s fastest lap, and moved up past Hulme and Revson into the lead.  However, the T260 then suffered a rear tyre puncture and the pit stop to fix this became prolonged when the engine cut and didn’t want to restart.  Although running at the finish, the car was several laps down having also developed a rear damper failure – a disappointing outcome as it had clearly had the beating of the McLarens on track. 

Stewart and the T260 were quickest at Road Atlanta until a tyre punctured. (Courtesy Autosports Marketing Associates)

A fortnight on, the Can-Am circus reconvened at Watkins Glen.  Perhaps helped by his familiarity with the Glen from his Grand Prix drives there, (as was the case too at Mosport, and, to a lesser extent, Mont Tremblant), Stewart put on another strong qualifying show, just pipping Revson and Hulme to the pole.  Next day he held a comfortable lead until a little past the halfway point, when a driveshaft failure intervened and forced retirement of the car.

Stewart enjoys a clear lead over the McLarens at Watkins Glen. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

Round 5 must have felt like ‘back to square one’ – the Mid Ohio circuit, like the opening, Canadian, rounds’ venues was something of a car breaker, being notable bumpy.  In qualifying the McLarens handled this better than the Lola – Hulme’s pole time was nearly a second quicker than Stewart’s 3^rd place lap.  But it was fortunate that the T260 was not further down the grid as it had been afflicted with multiple suspension failures during practice.  The confidence evident in Stewart’s demeanour at the Glen was also undermined by his perception of Mid Ohio as a particularly dangerous track with limited run-off areas and a host of trackside hazards.  He was forthright on Sunday morning in saying how dissatisfied he was with the place and that he didn’t intend to run at anything like his or the car’s full performance potential.  Thus it seemed somewhat paradoxical that following the demise of both the M8Fs with driveshaft failures, Stewart was able to chalk up his second victory of the season.

The T260 at Mid Ohio – note how much further back the wing is by now mounted. (Courtesy Niagara Pauls Blogspot)

In late August the second half of the series opened with the 6^th Round at Road America, (Elkhart Lake).  With the Mid Ohio win serving to re-boost confidence and signs that the long-established McLaren superiority might be faltering with reliability issues, there was good reason to expect that Stewart would be hunting Hulme and Revson down for the points table lead.  As an added positive, the Haas team was also keen to be more adventurous in its efforts to improve the car’s handling and aerodynamic behaviour – the chronic understeer still being a real issue for Stewart.  Thus, the car appeared at the Wisconsin circuit with a fully reworked rear end – an even larger-surface (and higher incidence) rear wing, with substantial end plates integrated with the rear quarter panel sides.  This was combined with a new ‘shovel’ form spoiler running across the bottom edge of the nose.

The new rear wing and front spoiler at Road America. (Courtesy Jim Buell)

Practice and qualifying threw up some surprises.  Whilst Hulme secured the pole with a time 2 seconds quicker than his nearest challenger, that competitor wasn’t teammate Revson – or even Stewart.  Finally coming good was the controversial Shadow Mk.2 of Jackie Oliver.  Stewart was 3^rd, but apparently hampered by a lack of power.  The team bit the bullet and changed the engine for the race, but this overheated and failed after just 10 laps.  So it was an unsatisfying end to the weekend with uncertainties remaining, especially in regard to the car’s aerodynamics, the original rear wing form having been reinstated and no conclusions reached about the persistent understeer.  Broadley was struggling to understand cause and effect, though he had demonstrated his perspicacity in wondering how well the body surface holes were relieving under-floor pressure when the gauze covering of many of them was clogged with paint required for the L & M livery!  One could not help but wonder if the car was founded on an aerodynamic theory full of holes.

 

With five Grand Prix wins up to August 1^st, Stewart was assured of his second World Championship by the time of Round 7 of the Can-Am at Donnybrooke.  He was no doubt philosophic about the contrast between his successes and confidence in his Tyrrell and his results with the Lola, to say nothing of how little he’d been enjoying driving the Group 7 car.  The team would have hoped to have had him smiling a little more by effecting some rear suspension upgrades following the Road America event.  But hope was outdone by reality in this instance – the McLarens seemed to be getting better after the mid-season frailties, whereas the Lola’s handling continued to tax Stewart’s patience.  With no improvement clearly obvious from the revisions tried at Road America, the rear wing form reverted to the original format.  As was becoming the pattern, Stewart was 3^rd in qualifying, not especially close to the times of Hulme and Revson.  Nonetheless, the Lola got off the line well and headed the M8Fs initially until Revson went past for the lead.  Stewart was able to hold Hulme behind him, but various troubles led to pit stops that hampered Stewart’s progress to the extent that he could finish no better than 6^th.

Stewart stays 2nd  in front of Hulme at Donnybrooke. (Courtesy Tim Winker)

Late September saw the Can-Am back in Canada, at Edmonton for Round 8.  There was a further revised, tacked-on ‘shovel’  panel in place to give the nose a more scoop-like profile and almost all of the rear wing depth was now behind the back edge of the rear panel.  The effectiveness of these changes was difficult to judge in the track conditions and Stewart’s qualifying performance could once again not achieve anything better than 3^rd.  In the race, his ultra-smooth skills enabled him to take and maintain the lead on a wet circuit.  Eventually, however, he had an off, and this apparently caused some damage, as the T260’s handling was subsequently less manageable.  It nevertheless remained one of the car’s better days, as Stewart was able to run to the finish headed only by Hulme’s McLaren.

On the grid at Edmonton – note the revised front end and the extreme rear location of the wing. (Courtesy TheRoaringSeason)

Laguna Seca was the location for the penultimate round.  Despite Stewart’s big and unsalvageable points deficit vis-a-vis the McLarens, effort was ongoing to try and give him a car which could match his other-worldly driving expertise.  This time there was some astonishment when it was seen that the front of the car was no longer just being augmented with a relatively small re-profiler – it now had a substantial tubular structure projecting forward of the nose, supporting a large, full-width aerofoil which was promptly nicknamed, ‘The Cowcatcher.’  The rear wing remained distinctly rearward of the back panel and run at a steeper angle of attack than as seen at Edmonton.  The T260 had begun the season as the ultimate ‘stubbie’ but now boasted an exceptionally long footprint.

New wings, front and rear, at Laguna Seca. (Courtesy TheRoaringSeason)

In qualifying, Stewart was within a second of Revson and Hulme, the former taking pole.  However, the Lola was 4^th on the grid as the Mk.2 Autocoast Ti22 was three tenths quicker in the hands of David Hobbs.  The Ti had less race pace and was soon displaced on the Sunday by Stewart who further progressed by passing Hulme for 2^nd.  Revson struggled with an ailing engine to finish the race but hung on to take the win.  There was some post-race confusion as it was contended by the Haas team that Revson should have been black flagged and the race awarded to the Lola.  However, Revson’s victory was subsequently upheld, so Stewart had to be content with 2^nd – itself by no means a bad result.

Though looking unwieldy with its front and rear ‘extensions,’ Stewart was able in the T260 to outpace Hulme’s M8F at Laguna Seca. (unattributed, via Bonhams)

The teams were at Riverside at the end of October to close out the Cam-Am series.  The T260 made its way to its customary 3^rd fastest in qualifying.  Stewart took it past Revson and settled into a secure but lonely 2^nd place until the engine failed with 3/5 of the race run.

Final aerodynamic tweak for the T260 is substantial end plates for the rear wing. (Courtesy Lola Heritage)

On face value, the final series points table for the top three suggested ‘business as usual’ for McLaren.  However, Stewart and the T260 had provided the most substantial challenge for a very long time to the dominance of the M8s.

Although there was never any prospect of Stewart committing to another season with Haas, it’s reasonable to suppose that with a winter of development and a new, ambitious driver, the wins tally could have been considerably greater than just two in 1972.  However, the obdurate handling problems of the T260 had taken their toll.  For Lola, the attraction of a new start became irresistible, and thus Broadley laid down a brief for the T310 – a Can-Am car that was long and wide and looking not at all related to its short and stubby, highly characterful, predecessor.  But I have to leave the last word to Sir Jackie: I enjoyed working with Carl Haas in 1971, but the car had been a dog to drive . . .

For BRM the Can-Am Really was a Challenge

When Britain stood alone in Western Europe against the might of the Wehrmacht in the early 1940s, it was confronting an array of fearsome technology.  On paper, the German fighting machines were superior to those of the Allies – the Messerschmitt 262; Tiger tank; the Mk.11 U-boat; for example.  Later in the decade, as a consortium of the British automotive industry began to plan a new racing car, there lingered, despite the Allied victory, perhaps a little too much reverence for German engineering.  Although the 1938-9 versions of the Auto Union Grand Prix cars had utilised 3.0 V12 engines, the predecessor types with their V16s – up to 6000 cc in capacity – clearly left an immense impression.  Sufficient at any rate for the nascent British Racing Motors team to decide that its engine would be in such a format, albeit of just 1.5 litre capacity.  Starting from scratch and in the austere economic climate, this could nowadays be classed as an act of self-harm: surely there would have been more chance of success – and less heartache – if a Vee or Straight 8 layout had been chosen. 

The BRM V16 P15 made its (unsuccessful) race debut in 1950 and was campaigned for five years with very few encouraging – let alone, triumphant – showings.  And it was a further seven years before a BRM – the V8-powered P578 in the hands of Graham Hill – was able to win the World Championship.  Building on that base, the Sixties could perhaps have been a decade of success for BRM, but the complexity compulsion struck again.  For the new 3 litre formula in 1966, the team opted to build another 16 cylinder engine.  And to compound any potential vicissitudes, this was configured in an ‘H’ format – two vertically stacked flat eights.  While a flat – or ‘boxer’ layout has the advantage of enabling a low centre of gravity in the car being powered, the ‘H’ form gave rise to the very reverse, as well as being relatively heavy. The result? – an extremely uncompetitive car – the P83 - with a very unreliable engine. 

With over twenty years, characterised in the main by failure, under its belt, BRM in 1969 looked to inject some fresh, innovation-inclined blood into its veins.  29 year old Tony Southgate was appointed as the team’s designer.  Southgate arrived at BRM’s base, in Bourne, Lincolnshire, as a proven success, having spent time in the U.S., creating and developing winning cars for Dan Gurney’s All American Racers team.  But Southgate immediately made a grave mistake – he designed and oversaw construction of a new Formula 1 car – the P153 – in a very short period of time, enabling it to be ready for the start of the new, 1970, Grand Prix season.  The BRM management was also guilty of an error at this point – instead of focusing all resources on the P153, it decided that the marque should branch out and make a car for the Can-Am Challenge sportscar series.  And just to compound any potential vicissitudes – sound familiar? – Southgate was granted very little time to design it; well, he had, after all, created the P153 very quickly, had he not? 

Perhaps the BRM management swiftly came to see that attention to the Can-Am car would be to the detriment of the Formula 1 programme.  Very well, they devised a solution: ship the Can-Am car, unfinished, out to the U.S. and shake it down/develop it over there: of course, that was very much to the detriment of the Can-Am programme! 

The Can-Am BRM, was designated model P154.  Built to the largely ‘formula libre’ Group 7 regulations governing the Can-Am, Southgate’s design was conventional.  Interestingly this approach was in marked contrast to that of the Shadow team to which he would eventually move.  In trying to break McLaren’s stranglehold on the Challenge, Shadow fielded a remarkably compact, ultra-low frontal area design for 1970.  Southgate’s P154 was a straightforward aluminium monocoque powered by a 7.6 litre Chevrolet big block V8 engine.  Whilst the standards-setting McLaren M8Ds, and most other runners, ran rear wings, (in some instances in conjunction with fences), the P154 relied on its rear bodywork contours for downforce.  The configuration’s development was initially informed by testing a scale model in the wind tunnel of Imperial College in London.  Finalisation followed testing of the car itself at MIRA. 

P154 Design drawing. Courtesy of Tony Southgate

Straightaway, fundamental problems arose and would haunt the P154’s potential for success.  At that time, wind tunnels usually lacked a moving floor and thus the test data derived had limited relevance to ‘real world’ conditions.  Additionally, Southgate’s basic concept of the car embraced track dimensions well beyond the chassis width by the use of 19 inch rear tyres – but the anticipated supply from Firestone did not materialise, and the car had to be raced on 17 inch covers. 

A contemporary feature in Autosport, 11 June 1970, reported that, ‘the first car will be ready for the opening round (Mosport) this weekend.’  Only just – it did not run for the first time until the day before the race.  Contracted to drive was George Eaton, a Canadian who had first competed in the Can-Am in 1966 in a Shelby Cobra, in various McLarens, 1967-9, and who had been given occasional Grands Prix outings in the P138 and P139.  George was a scion of the family that had established and then run Canada’s most prominent retailing business for 100 years.  Though wealth was certainly no bar to his racing activities, George was no mediocre pay-driver.  He had nine podiums to his name prior to the 1970 season, achieved in the Can-Am and USRRC series.  Moreover, he had placed second in the final round of the 1969 Can-Am series in Texas. 

George Eaton, June 1970. Courtesy of Dick Darrell

But the 1970 series didn’t start well for George or BRM.  At the Mosport round, run on 14 June, George was out on lap 33 with transmission trouble.  For the team there was some consolation in the fact that the car had qualified seventh of 28 entries – not bad for first time out – and BRM’s design/engineering was not to blame for the retirement: given the truncated design/development timescale, Southgate had opted to utilise the ubiquitous Hewland 4 speed gearbox. 

Two weeks on, round 2 was run at Mont-Tremblant.  Qualifying seemed to represent a backward step because, although only 22 cars practised, George’s best time was good enough only for ninth on the grid.  However, the race proved to be the team’s highlight of the season with George finishing in third.  But if he felt at all euphoric on the podium, that would to some extent derive from something he could not then know: he would retire in all eight of the remaining races. 

Best qualifying performances of the season came at Road Atlanta and Donnybrooke, where George started fifth on the grid.  At Road Atlanta he also got the furthest into a race, not being forced to retire until lap 49, when the engine blew up.  However, a broken rocker put paid to his race at Donnybrooke with only one lap completed.  Particularly disappointing events were Road America, where overheating prevented George from starting, and Riverside, a practice accident this time leaving the P154 unfit to make the grid. 

George at Watkins Glen, July 1970. Courtesy of Rich Martin

By the latter part of the season, a second car had been completed and this was entered for Pedro Rodriguez to drive in rounds 9 and 10.  On face value Pedro did much better than George, but this was mainly because his car proved reliable.  At Laguna Seca George outqualified Pedro, (eighth and ninth, respectively).  Nevertheless, Pedro made it to the line in fifth at Laguna, and in seventh at Riverside.  Southgate himself recounts: After coming third at Riverside, he (Rodriguez) told me it was the worst car he’d ever driven. That really embarrassed me. He was always so brave and uncomplaining, so it must have been really bad. 

BRM could not have been blamed if it had concluded that Group 7 was best left to other constructors.  However, perhaps buoyed by the promise his P153 Grand Prix car had shown in 1970, BRM prevailed upon Southgate to create a successor to the P154.  This he did, taking care to address key weaknesses that had dogged the P154’s handling, opting for a longer wheelbase and with improved frontal aerodynamics and a conventional rear wing.  The resulting P167 was run in both the European Interserie and the Can-Am in 1971.  The Can-Am operation was handled for BRM by Sid Taylor Racing.  Drivers Howden Ganley and Brian Redman saw little success and both finished only once in points-scoring positions, Ganley third at Riverside and Redman fourth at Laguna Seca. 

Compounding the generally downbeat nature of the saga of BRM’s Can-Am initiative, two other circumstances have to be mentioned.  A P167 was allocated for Pedro Rodriguez to drive at an Interserie race at the Norisring on 11 July.  However, during preparation of the car, the engine sustained damage while on the dynamometer.  With rectification impossible in the available timeframe, the race entry was cancelled.  Rodriguez, still keen on the event, accepted an offer from Herbert Muller to drive his Ferrari 512M.  On lap 12 a tyre came off the rim, sending the car into a barrier and wall, and then across the track.  Coming to rest, it caught fire.  Pedro died in hospital shortly after, with a fractured skull and burns cited as cause of death. 

Happily, George Eaton finished his driving career in good health, in 1972.  Less happily, he replaced that activity with involvement in the family business, becoming the last Eaton to assume the role of CEO.  Although there was much change in retailing to challenge traditional businesses like the Eaton organisation in the latter part of the twentieth century, it is commonly held that the management expertise of George and the family members of his father’s generation was poor, resulting in a steady decline of profitability.  Indeed, profitability had become a distant memory when George saw no alternative to resignation in 1997.  Two years later his successor was compelled to file for the firm’s bankruptcy.