In the background beyond two other chain-link fences and one low barrier,
just to the left of our friend the Public Address tower,
is another acquaintance: the White
Cord. I'd reckon that your Prize and your Announcement of a World-Figure
Starter would be displayed before the Grandest Stand, on or near the
Starting Line. Now I inspect the track surface of what I conjected
as an unoccupied left-right section of track, that empty space that
dominates the bottom of our
picture, and I see what seems to be, could be, probably is, a
grid-box mark or two. Very like the marks evident in other photos
in the 1937 section of the Photo Archive.
So there you have it: we are in the main grandstand,
looking across the S/F straight and the one beyond. Bernd Rosemeyer
in the winning Auto Union, moving from our right to left will very
shortly make a bend to his right, another to his left, and one more
to his right before entering a section of the course that doubles
back to our right, passes a receding distance more than half the length
of our straight, doubles back again and wiggles a bit prior to entering
a new, specially banked curve designed to increase launch-speed down
the S/F straight, left to right and right in front of us.
Oriented at last. I feel much better now.
2014-10-18 — More New Material: "kevracer" of the
Yahoo Group "Racing
History" found a trove of photos made at this event, in the
NYC
Museum's collection.
(Terraserver offers aerial views
and a map of the track area. They might be revealing.)
(I have a 1:43 scale model of the second-place #15
Mercedes-Benz W125 car of Richard Seaman, complete with swastika.
I thought I had one of Rosemeyer's car, but the #4 I have looks more
like a Type D. I guess that's where I got
my bad early guess.)
Why do I love these old photos? There is always something surprising
and rewarding in them. This was one of two, $2.25 the pair, plus a
dollar shipping. The other is interesting, too, but nothing like the
AU one. Or another eBay find, the one with the Cub Scout sitting on
a fender as Swanson in the
Sampson whizzes by . . .