Drag Racing in Atlanta in the 1970s was against the law but …… | Eastern NC Now

    I bought a new 1970 Datsun 240Z after my return from overseas.

    I was a sports car racing nut and went to Road Atlanta for almost every race. I spent quite a bit of money on the brand new Z-Car adding stiffer suspension and engine work. It would corner like a go-cart.

    Professional racing is an expensive business, but street racing only requires a willingness to risk police interference and slightly diluted sense invincibility.

    Before Stone Mountain became the big attraction it is today, it was a work in progress but had the benefit of winding roads and a distinct lack of law enforcement.

    My 240Z was no good for drag racing but it could handle turns with the best of cars. If I could just get the guy to a curvy road, I could dust most of them off.

    One night my running mate and I were in Atlanta well into the night and were heading down Spring Street after leaving the Varsity, an Atlanta fast food drive in. Some smart kid with a Corvette pulled up next to us at the red light. I knew I had no chance and it was a long way to any winding roads. However, I still had the "Machine Gunners Outlook from Vietnam", so the stage was set.

    I kept up through first gear and began to lose ground in second gear. Enthusiasm could not replace horsepower but with a noble effort, I went for third gear. Unfortunately, in my haste to shift, I got out of sequence on clutch and hand movements and sparks and gear parts began to fly as we coasted to a stop in the middle of the road.

    Luck was still with us though as Boomershine Pontiac was located on Spring Street and it was also a Datsun Dealer. We pushed the Z onto the lot and went a hotel just down the street.

    We called one of our friends who came to pick us up. We must have been having too much fun because when he arrived his wife and two children were with him. The night was over.

    Next day I called the dealer and explained that I had a transmission failure right in front of their lot. I do not remember what it cost to repair but it put quite a dent in my pocketbook as well as my ego. The story remained a private matter until my son had an incident in 2000, about 30 years after my episode. A stern lecture and punishment was to no avail after my previously mentioned running mate told my son about the Spring Street caper.