1969 at the Brickyard Gate Poem By Jim Gandolf

“Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum in 1969 as a four-year-old boy. I was known as Jimmy Gandolf, some people in the family called me “Jamie” LOL 

I wrote this a long time ago in Port Washington  Wisconsin in 1982 in a notebook that I had kept  today I trademarked it.” A  note on this poem. 

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1969 at the Brickyard Gate

Poem 

By Jim Gandolf 

©️11032025

The summer sun, a 1969 gold,

Shone bright above the tales about to unfold.

A small hand gripped, beneath a grown-up's might,

We stood beside the road in morning light.

Not yet the roar, the track's vast, churning sound,

But 16th Street was consecrated ground.

And there it stood, near Crawfordsville Road's wide sweep,

A place where history's great secrets sleep.

The Museum's Door

The IMS Museum, a temple grand and tall,

We stepped inside, escaping summer's thrall.

My world, so new, where every sight was vast,

Held moments from the speedway's glorious past.

The air was cool, a hush before the storm,

My four-year-old attention kept me warm.

And then I saw them, lined up, row on row,

The chariots of speed from long ago.

The Silver Legends

Race cars gleaming, polished, sharp, and lean,

The mightiest machines I'd ever seen.

Their bodies curved, a metal, silver grace,

Each one had known that legendary pace.

I gazed upon the ghosts of triumph past,

The 500 winners, built to hold and last.

The Borg-Warner trophy, shining bright,

Reflected wonder in a child's wide sight.

The tiny fins, the engines big and deep,

While grown-ups spoke of records they would keep,

I simply stared, too young for lore or name,

Just captivated by the racing flame.

A Fascination Born

That day, the wonder took a solid hold,

A story in my young heart to be told.

The Greatest Spectacle, though seen from far,

Was captured in the form of a metal star.

A quiet magic on that sunlit day,

Where racing legends seemed to come and play.

My heart was stolen in 1969

Jim Gandolf