As the white flag was displayed the crowd was on their feet, screaming in disbelief. Black and Wright had un-lapped themselves, and the next time they passed Gregory it was for the money. The Robinson sprinter was barely moving, with Gregory rocking his body in the cockpit, wheeling back-and-forth, trying to coax the few remaining drops of precious methanol into his fuel pickup. As Gregory rolled toward the checkered flag Wright and Black were wheel-to-wheel coming off turn four and closing fast, coming up less than a car-length short as Gregory passed slowly over the finish line, with Wright second and Black third.
Gregory‘s triumph remains one of the most frantic and unlikely finishes in the 72-year history of the iconic event.
That was the best it could be at Anderson for Gregory. Eight weeks later came the worst.
At the ASA sprint event on August 1, Gregory was leading his heat race when his throttle hung open. Driving a car out of Columbus, Indiana, Gregory slammed the west wall with such force that his car was impaled into and through the steel retaining barrier. Gregory was removed from the car and hauled to nearby St. John‘s Hospital where he would remain for the next two weeks as his two broken legs were repaired.
One week later the ASA sprint series returned to Anderson for a 100-lap feature. Throughout the first 60 laps Wilkerson dueled with Jim Blount and his winged six-cylinder supermodified. In the midst of their battle, Blount retired on lap 61 with mechanical trouble and Wilkerson cruised to the win.
Wilkerson was elated, but his injured pal Buzz Gregory remained on his mind. The racers had gone into the stands with their helmets earlier that evening, raising donations to help Gregory. Shortly after the feature race had finished, Wilkerson and several other drivers and car owners were lingering at the pay window, waiting to be paid.
Wilkerson overheard ASA boss Rex Robbins mention the collection made for Gregory, looking to get the money to Buzz as quickly as possible.
“Hey Rex,” Wilkerson spoke up. “You know what we ought to do? Let‘s take the money up to Buzz right now. I‘ll bet it would really cheer him up.”
Robbins looked at his watch. “It‘s almost midnight,” he said. “There‘s no way they‘ll let us in the hospital at this time of night.”
“We‘ll sneak in,” Butch insisted.
The two men grabbed the canvas bag containing $750 and jumped into Robbins‘ car. St. John‘s is just a few blocks from the track, and they tip-toed past the front desk and into the darkened hallway. Wilkerson, who had visited Gregory earlier that afternoon, knew exactly which room.
They carefully opened the door and looked in. Gregory, both legs encased in heavy plaster and suspended by cables overhead, was sound asleep.
“Hey Buzz,” Wilkerson whispered. “Wake up! Look what we brought you!”
Gregory blinked his eyes open and in a moment was wide awake.
“What are you guys doing here?” he said in amazement.
“We took up a collection,” Robbins explained. “Butch figured you could use some cheering-up.”
Gregory looked at the wads of cash and his face was instantly a picture of pure joy. Robbins and Wilkerson stood alongside the bed as Gregory tried to process the moment.
Just then a nurse, making her rounds, poked her head in the door.
“What is going on here?” she demanded. “You men can‘t be in this room!”
Smooth and unruffled, Wilkerson explained the situation and told the nurse how important it was that they bring the collection up to Gregory — right now.
Amazingly enough, the nurse relented.
“OK, but keep the noise down,” she said, and the door slowly closed.
They stayed for only a little while, talking in quiet tones about tonight‘s race and money and healing up. Good conversation and probably good therapy for two broken legs.
The collection to assist Butch Wilkerson at this year‘s Little 500 brought the story full circle. The spontaneous kindness he and Rex Robbins showed to Buzz Gregory 50-plus years earlier — at the same track — had been repaid in kind.