Sport: The Undertaker Wins

In Argentina, Domingo Marimón is a man of means. He runs an undertaking business, smokes big cigars, campaigns against Perón, and races automobiles. In Buenos Aires one midnight last month, Domingo stepped on the starter of his 1939 Chevrolet and waited for the Gran Premio de la America del Sur to begin. So did 137 other drivers * in their Fords, Chevies and a sprinkling of Plymouths, Nashes and Buicks. At the signal, they roared off into the night.

At first, the roads were good. Domingo purred along at a comfortable 70 m.p.h. Before reaching Caracas — about 6,000 miles away — the field had to grind up the mighty Andes, race across Bolivia’s lofty Altiplano (plateau), span desert land, plunge through an equatorial jungle. For the next 18 days, nobody heard much about the fat undertaker.

A Red Ford. It was the longest and roughest course in auto racing. Argentine papers flashed headlines on a crash 375 miles outside Buenos Aires, and another in Bolivia’s mountains (where one car plunged over a 600-foot precipice, killing driver and mechanic). But the boldest type was reserved for the Gálvez brothers, Oscar and Juan, who were whisking around dangerous hairpin turns as if they had designed them. Oscar, in his red Ford with Viva Perón painted on it, won the first leg from B.A. to Salta, and then the second and third legs. Argentine fans, who take auto racing as seriously as football and politics, nicknamed Oscar El Aguilucho, the Young Eagle.

By the time the racers got to Lima (2,900 miles away), there were only 66 contestants left, and the Gálvez boys had won five of the first six legs. They had earned 58,000 pesos ($11,931) and fountain pens, radios, razors, beer, wine, shoes and hats, put up by local merchants and automobile clubs. Only one outsider, a veteran driver named Juan Fangio, managed to muscle in on their monopoly — and paid dearly for it. In a road duel with Oscar, Fangio’s car overturned. Gálvez raced on, not stopping to help. (Fangio cracked up on the next leg, killing his mechanic.) One Buenos Aires paper, cheering Oscar on, ran a headline: CAN ANYTHING STOP HIM? The foggy, mountainous road between Cúcuta and Valera couldn’t. At times, he could not see two yards ahead — and going straight instead of following a sudden turn meant plunging over a cliff. At Valera, Oscar had a commanding 2½-hour lead over his brother, who had a comfortable lead over the third man. Then the Galvez brothers’ luck ran out.

A Battered Chevie. Only 300 miles from Caracas, Oscar’s red Ford plunged down an embankment. When Juan came along, he stopped to help his brother get back on the road. It took so long that it cost him his chance of winning the race; besides, his own car was limping and had to be towed, thus violating one of the rules. One day last week, with 100,000 citizens of Caracas anxiously waiting at the finish line of the Gran Premio, a battered, fenderless Chevie coupe rolled down the Avenida San Martin. Out stepped Domingo Marimón, the undertaker.

He had not won a single leg, but he had won the first section of the Gran Premio and its first prize of 114,000 pesos ($23,450). Said Domingo, chewing on a big cigar: “I kept my eyes on the road, that’s all.” The race had cost ten lives (one driver, two mechanics, seven bystanders), left nearly 100 drivers stranded along the road, practically ruined 138 good automobiles. What cars were left would now be shipped to Lima, Peru, where the second and shorter section of the Gran Premio, back over the mountains to Luján, near Buenos Aires, would begin in two weeks.

* 116 Argentines, eight Peruvians, five Chileans, five Bolivians, two Venezuelans, one Uruguayan.