Art Cross had three life goals. Win the Indianapolis 500, buy a farm and raise corn along with some kids. The latter two he accomplished admirably.
The other? He came tantalizingly close when he finished second to Bill Vukovich in 1953.
Born in 1918 and raised in Jersey City, N.J., as is common with many young men, Cross struggled with what to do with his life. Fate intervened when he spotted an ad for a midget racer. On a lark, he bought it.
Cross recruited his buddies, who helped him lay out a track in a parking lot. Then they took turns timing each other around the makeshift course. Besides having fun with his friends, Cross had no plans for the car until one afternoon in 1938.
A guy, who, as it turned out, was a car owner, passed the lot, watched their antics, and invited them to try their hand in real midget races at a Long Island track.
“Why not…,” they decided, and elected Cross to handle the driving. With that, a career was launched.
Almost immediately, Cross’ prowess in the outdated, motorcycle engine-powered car caught the attention of other car owners. They offered him rides in better equipment, and he responded with spectacular performances. But just as his career was spiraling up, World War II broke out, and all racing jolted to a halt.
Cross joined the Army and landed in some of the most brutal battles of the war. After a particularly hot skirmish during the Battle of the Bulge, he received a Purple Heart.
Following the hostilities, Cross returned to the midget racing battles. The sport had exploded in popularity, drawing fans by the thousands, seven days a week. In that heady atmosphere, the competition was intense. Only the best thrived and rose to the top.
Cross thrived.
Over the next two years, driving for famed car owner Roscoe “Pappy” Hough, he decimated the Northeastern competition. At Patterson, New Jersey’s Hinchliffe Stadium alone, he won 47 features.
Desiring to upgrade his career, in 1949, Cross moved to the Midwest to chase the lucrative purses of the AAA. Continuing his winning ways, he captured the 1951 AAA Midget championship and then turned his focus to his goal, Indianapolis.
He witnessed his first 500 that same year, from outside the track. He paid 50 cents to join a group of fans on a multi-story scaffold. Not the best vantage point, but he caught enough of the action to determine he could “…race with those guys.”
In 1952, he did just that. Cross qualified Ray Brady’s Bowes Seal Fast Kurtis/Offy, in 20th, and then fought his way to the front. His fifth-place finish earned him Indy’s first 500 Rookie of the Year award.
With his winnings, Cross purchased a 40-acre farm near La Porte and began raising corn and kids with his wife, Margaret. Two goals checked off his list. One remained. In his sophomore year at Indianapolis, he went hard after that one.
For the 1953 500, his ride was the highly-regarded Springfield Welding Special, owned by lady car owner, Bessie Lee Paoli. Despite the fact she’d won the 1952 National championship with Chuck Stevenson, she still wasn’t allowed in the Indianapolis pits. She had to communicate with her team by passing notes through the fence. Cross put her car in the field in 12th place.
Race day was one of the hottest in Speedway history, with stifling humidity adding more misery to the near 90-degree temperatures. Driver Carl Scarborough died from the conditions, and half the field begged for relief before the checkered flag flew.
At the end of 500 miles, winner Bill Vukovich and Cross, in second place, were among the few who raced without relief. Cross returned to Indianapolis the next two years, led both races, but missed his sought-after victory.
Cross last raced at Milwaukee in 1955. Starting 11th, he charged into the lead but spun. He pitted for new tires, and then fought back to the lead only to run out of fuel. The crew had rigged a gallon gas can between his legs for such an eventuality. But he couldn’t get it to feed. Forced to pit again, nevertheless he managed fourth place by the time the 250-miler ended.
Even though Cross missed his goal of a 500 win, his career, initiated by accident, satisfied him. He never regretted retiring in his prime, and contentedly raised corn, kids, and grandkids until his death on April 5, 2005.
