The photo above of Steve Raynor, then 12 years old, was taken in 1953 in his Sprinchorn-sponsored soap box derby car. Submitted photo

This weekend’s Soap Box Derby activities remind me of a time long before the current permanent facility was established when my family and I enjoyed our Soap Box Derby experience.

Building the car, obtaining sponsorship Solon Sprinchorn and his company, running the actual race down the hill past Dahlstroms, going to Akron to see the national finals, hearing Dinah Shore sing the Chevy theme song (“See the USA in Your Chevrolet”) and watching TV star Andy Devine roll down the course in the Oil Can Derby are special memories. However, the most poignant of all were the training runs (one authorized, one not) that we made on Tanner Hill just east of Panama.

The downward slope of Tanner Hill provided several incidents and challenges for my family and for local residents.

Young drivers found the concept of racing down Tanner Hill at top speed and then negotiating the “S” curve at the top of the smaller opposing slope to be a challenge of their driving abilities and speed management. Numerous drivers were unable to make the turns and either slid or rolled down the hill into our forested lots. I am told that while I was away at college, the practice came to an end when one driver was fatally injured as his car left the road out of control. Years later, the highway department purchased some of our property to make the turns less difficult to negotiate.

My brother was not immune to the challenge of speeding down the hill. In 1953, he and my father built a soap box derby racer. The week before the race, my family staged a practice run by measuring the course so that it would equal the Jamestown course in distance. Under the supervision of my parents on Saturday afternoon, my brother took several practice runs down the hill while my parents stood guard to ensure that no oncoming traffic would interfere with his safety.

Not satisfied with that, on the Sunday morning following, my brother woke me to assist him to push the racer to the top of the slope of Tanner Hill, a distance of about three times that of the actual course. The issue was that starting at the top of the hill left us “blind” to both traffic behind us and other traffic that might be coming through the S curves towards us. My brother had me mount the rear of the car with my feet on the axles and my hands hanging onto the back of the seat as we headed down the hill on our adventure. As we made the turn to the steepest part of the hill, we saw an 18-wheeler headed our way in the other lane. At first this was no problem but then a second 18-wheeler, moving at top speed to take advantage of the downward slope, approached us from the rear and began sounding his air horn. Not wishing to be crushed by either truck, my brother had to choose between a deep ditch on the right side of the road or a shallower ditch on the left side of the road. As my brother swung to the left in the path of the oncoming tractor-trailer, the driver joined the following driver in sounding his air horn shattering the Sunday morning peace. Miraculously, my brother completed the move without being killed; however, since I was not attached to the vehicle, as the tiny car slowed dramatically in the ditch, I became airborne and flew over my brother’s head directly in his path. The two of us have never agreed on how much of my body was “run over” by the partially controlled Derby car. In any event, we quietly wheeled the car in the garage and were uncharacteristically successful in keeping our misadventure from our parents’ knowledge.

Looking back, my brother and I are happy to have survived this near mishap and do not recommend such foolishness to today’s derby participants. We were lucky!

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Brian Raynor is a 1964 graduate of Panama Central School and is a contributing writer to the Panama Writers Conference which will be holding its fifth annual meeting at the Steward House Bed and Breakfast during the third week of June.