Arie Luyendyk is a two time Indianapolis 500 winner, first across the finish line in 1990 and 1997. Born in the Netherlands, he rose through the ranks of auto racing to the “champ car” level where he ran his first season in 1985. “The Flying Dutchman,” as he became known, was steady, fast, handsome, and was friendly and approachable. These attributes made him a fan favorite, and he’s still popular, even after retiring in 1999.
As a photographer, there were not many places I’d rather be with a camera than the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The combination of my love for open wheel racing and my passion for photography were the perfect combination. It was at the 1973 race at age 14, where I saw the access photographers had to the cars when the “light bulb went on in my head” and I thought photography might make a pretty cool career.
It came to be. My professional career began in 1983, and for most of the following years up until 1996, I photographed the 500 time trials (qualifications to determine the starting order of the race), as a credentialed photographer for the publications I worked for. The access to the cars and drivers was amazing. I attended the races too, but as a fan, from my seat, still with a camera.
A few details in this blog are sketchy and will be called out by the use of parentheses.
Arie’s primary sponsor for the 1992 season was RCA so I’m pretty sure it was (1992) when I made this photo of him at the time trials. The days are long and the steps are many, for any photographer who is properly moving up and down pit row to get photos of the drivers and cars. Popular and legendary drivers draw more shooters. It was a normal day at the track until a rain shower shut it all down. There would be a delay, and a delay at Indy can mean a lot of down time. Every inch of the track must be dry before the cars can return. “Slick” tires and wet asphalt don’t mix.
Everything comes to a halt. Even some photographers retreat. Not me. As soon as the shower stopped I was back to it. I found Arie waiting out the delay, resting in the grass and against the wall that separates the track from pit row. He was alone. My friends and I used to refer to that strip as the “grassy knoll.” It was used by crewman to stand near the track and hold signs for their drivers, directing them as to when to pit, how far ahead/behind another car they were, etc. With communications being done by radio now, the grassy strip is long gone.
I got an idea for a photo in my head. Without realizing it at the time, this was an early example of “making” a photo instead of “taking” a photo. As long as Arie didn’t move I was in business. Vehicles of all types were circling the track to dry the surface. I purposely used a slow shutter speed to blur them to give the feeling of motion. And though I shot multiple vehicles, I knew the color red would stand out. I am not sure whether I was using a 105mm or 180mm lens, but the film was color negative. Arie stayed put, I got my frames.
Arie made a promotional appearance at a Target store in the western suburbs of Chicago in (1993). Living and working in the area, I took a print of the photo with the intention of asking him to sign. When I presented it to him he literally did sort of a double take. “Boy, that’s a cool picture, I’d like to have a copy of that,” he said. His compliment put me on cloud nine and I assured him that I would do whatever it took to get him a print.
I must not have worked the 1994 time trials as it would have been easy to personally deliver his copy. I did attend the race, print in hand, in an envelope with cardboard to prevent it from bending, guarding it like gold all day.
The race ended, now, HOW to get it to him? I had no credentials or access. Who do I spot walking down pit lane as a credentialed photographer? My friend Tom Holoubek, another Chicago area guy. I hollered, got his attention and asked him to do me a favor, explaining what was in the envelope and handing it over the fence to him. Tom promised to deliver it to Arie’s garage.
A few weeks later I received a package from Scottsdale, Arizona with no return address. “Who the hell do I know in Scottsdale,” I thought to myself? In the envelope were a couple of signed black and white publicity photos and a short note from Arie, thanking me for the print. I was floored.
Over the years, usually around Indy time, I have shared and posted the photo on social media. Arie has even chimed in and corrected me on the year I made it. I hope I got it right this time. “That photo still hangs on a wall in my house,” he added.
The print Arie signed for me is hanging to my right, just above me, along with signed prints of photos I’ve made of Mario Andretti and Johnny Rutherford. Arie’s is extra special, knowing a copy hangs in HIS home is a real honor.
