Bill would start Charger, a racing newspaper, serve as an announcer, promoter, or frankly do whatever needed to be done to make a race successful. In time, Bill would be the first General Manager at Pocono and also at the Texas World Speedway.
He was deeply involved in the famed USAC midget races that were conducted in front of enormous crowds at the Houston Astrodome. He was also a key player in the initial National Championship races held on the Indianapolis Raceway Park road course.
But there was so much more. Much more. He knew racing intimately.
Bill tried his hand at stock car racing, but then devoted more time to his sons Billy and Brad as they began their careers in quarter-midgets at the old Riverside roller skating rink in Indianapolis.
Billy lost his life in a sprint car at Lincoln Park Speedway in 1983 and, as bitter a pill as it was to swallow, Marvel never turned away from the sport.
In one of his most enduring roles, Bill served as a Vice President of USAC with involvement in corporate affairs, marketing, and promotion. Marvel was among the team that met in Martinsville, Ind., to agree to bring the popular Indiana Sprint Week into the USAC fold.
The first USAC edition came in 1996 and featured a modest slate of three races at Bloomington, Paragon, and Kokomo.
As fate would have it, Brad Marvel, who had been a Lincoln Park Speedway track champion, won the final round at Kokomo Speedway for his lone USAC win. Brad‘s son Justin would also become a Lincoln Park champion and, like his father, scored a USAC win.
Keeping the torch lit, Brinton Marvel is finding his way in sprint car racing too. In each of these men‘s cases, Bill was their biggest fan.
One of Bill‘s greatest contributions to the sport was as the Executive Director of the USAC Benevolent Fund. This fund exists to help those in the USAC family who need assistance for any number of life circumstances.
No one worked harder to promote and build this fund, and his ability to show compassion for those in difficult times was clearly influenced by his own experience.
As fate would have it, when he decided to hand over the reins to a new Executive Director, the person selected to take charge was Josh Laycock, the grandson of the man who gave Bill his first break at IMS.
There is no way to recount all of the accolades this man received. He was the recipient of the Bob Russo Founders Award, as well as the Angelo Angelopolous Memorial Award from the American Auto Racing Writers and Broadcasters Association.
He also was the winner of the Andy Granatelli Unsung Hero Award, and the Ross Hadley Award from USAC. He is a member of the Hoosier Auto Racing Fans and the National Association of Racing Fans Hall of Fame. Once again, you are viewing a partial list.
On top of all of this he was the first Public Relations Director for the Indiana Pacers, and held that same capacity for a professional tennis team known as the Indianapolis Loves.
The problem with everything that has been noted above is that none of this truly captures the essence of this man. Bill Marvel had more energy than nearly any human I have ever known.
I attended his 90th birthday party and I was convinced Bill could still outwork, and outlast 75 percent of those in attendance. His formative years in racing were spent around legendary promoters like J.C. Agajanian and Slippery Sam Nunis.
It was a time when racing promotions drew heavily from carnivals and fairs, and where ballyhoo and hyperbole was a central part of the playbook. Bill understood what it meant to be an old-fashioned advance man, to wine and dine local media members, and he embraced the up close and personal style of making an event successful.
In this day, when far too many think that a tweet or a social media post constitutes promotion, they would have been wise to have observed Marvel work a phone, shake a hand, and find a way to get his event on everyone‘s mind.
A perfect example was when USAC became the sanctioning body for Indiana Sprint Week. Marvel sprang into action. Before long there were sponsors big and small.
A driver might win a case of oil or a pair of cowboy boots, but in the end a lot of people got something.
What he did was get people involved and interested.
When it came time to seal a deal, he was relentless and the consummate salesman. A personal example might suffice. When I came to visit him in the USAC office shortly after my move to Indiana, he was helpful as always.
Then, just as I was leaving, he handed me a card and said, “This is my soon to be ex-wife, she‘s a good realtor, so you might think about buying a house from her.” I did.
As I was set to leave again, he added, “Hey, you know my son Brad. If you need a car, he‘s a salesman at Palmer Dodge; he would be a good guy to buy a car from.”
Once again, I did. That was Bill. A hardworking hustler.
Bill had moved to Kentucky a few years ago, but still spent plenty of time in the Hoosier State. He would routinely call me to discuss whatever I had written for Sprint Car & Midget magazine, and just talk racing in general.
In so many ways, the last month or so was typical Bill. I had chatted with him on a Sunday afternoon, and one week later I was told he was in the hospital and the end was near.
I was stunned.
It is hardly unusual for people 90 years old and above to pass. Except here. If there was one individual on this earth that I truly thought might live forever in this world it was Bill.
There were times when it simply felt like he never aged. He was still enthusiastic, still talking about his family, and still deeply involved in racing.
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