By the dawn of the 1950s, international motor racing had become more colorful, more exciting, and more glamorous than ever before. Avid race fans came to watch the beautifully styled and impeccably engineered race cars rush past them at death-defying speeds mere feet away. In those days, racing was less about huge cash prizes and lucrative sponsorships, and more a matter of both national pride and personal fortitude.
Beyond all the pomp and circumstance, the fierce flag-waving and the hero worship of the drivers, darker forces were lurking just beneath the surface. The grim specter of death was ever-present and cast a long and wide shadow over every event. Even then, racing fatalities were nothing new. Ever since the first two Roman gladiators squared off against each other in their horse-drawn chariots, vehicular speed and endurance contests all too often ended with a funeral. As motor cars became faster and more sophisticated as the 20th century wore on, death rates would increase exponentially, both on and off the track.
Hans Herrman survived this crash at Avus
In the years following WW2, the performance of modern sports racing cars had far exceeded the capacity of the archaic circuits that they frequently raced on, leading to some rather spectacular mishaps. Driver and spectator safety were an afterthought, if they were even thought of at all. The fans loved the spectacle, but not everyone was thrilled. Anyone who tried to voice their concerns over the unsafe conditions at these events, however, were swiftly silenced by race officials, team bosses, and even the drivers themselves. The brave men who climbed behind the wheel of these beasts were fully aware of the lethal hazards they faced, but casually brushed them off with a mixture of macho bravado and quiet resignation.
At the 24 Hueres Du Mans in July 1955, the inevitable finally happened. A single accident that caused death and destruction on an unprecedented scale. It was an appalling tragedy that shocked the world and changed the face of motorsports forever. It turned friends into enemies, fans into critics, and winners into losers. Even now, over half a century later, the echos of that dark day still reverberate in the hearts and minds of everyone who lived through it.
A final, chilling footnote. The car at the center of all this, Lance Macklin’s Austin-Healy 100 prototype, was repaired just one year after the crash. In 2011, it was auctioned off for a record-breaking $1.3 million after sitting idle since the 1960s.
Finally, in 2016, its current owner had it fully restored to its pre-accident condition, to make its debut at Bonhams Auction House.
Many superstitious gearheads expressed concern that the infamous Healy might now be cursed, after being the primary cause of such a horrific large-scale tragedy. Others are glad to see such a rare and valuable piece of racing history restored to its former glory. Others would like to see it get crushed and melted down, for obvious reasons.
RIP to the victims.
1955 was a bad year for racing. About a month earlier, Bill Vukovich died in a nasty crash at Indianapolis.
That black and white film from opposite the pits publicly surfaced only recently. It is indeed chilling to watch as you see Levegh’s Mercedes rear up right at the camera as the film ends. I’d imagine that the cameraman was one of the victims.
Watching it in slow motion does seem to add weight to pinning Hawthorne for the accident. However with the speed of these cars in the tight quarters of the pits and stands I read somewhere that while Hawthorne was responsible for the accident, the organizers were responsible for the disaster.
I’d be tempted to blame Hawthorn as well, but it must be remembered he was leading the race and as such had right of way. Macklin’s A-H was typical of the most dangerous aspect of the Le Mans race – minor-class competitors capable of travelling at only a fraction of the speed of the top performers creating an ongoing track hazard. There is also the fact that Levegh was past his prime, and even had forebodings about this very race, and yet he was piloting one of the fastest vehicles on earth. A fatal mismatch.
I agree the organisers should have carried most of the blame.
Thank you for posting this video. I had read about this event but this video explained it in a way that brought me greater understanding. It was tragedy that led to improvements in racetrack design and safety, which is the only way to salvage some good from such a terrible event.
Haven’t seen those photos of the Healey before. The 100s was the lightweight competition version of the Healey 100, looks the same except for different grill shape.
Part of the problem was the magnesium construction of the Mercedes, which of course burnt ferociously after the accident.
Most people just aren’t safety minded, so no surprise that safety improvements tend to happen after accidents.
Macklin’s AH was one of four factory prototypes. Apparently someone tried to pass off another car as the Macklin car years ago, and one of the reasons the blue NOJ 393 has been authenticated is that the old grille shape was still evident in the bonnet.
I read a book about all the auto racing tragedies that happened that year.
“The Amazing Summer of 55”.
Interesting video. I think that if that were to happen today, the “blame” would be on the race track owner or race sanctioning body for not building the track safe enough. It was a whole different world back then.
1955 was certainly a landmark automotive year – groundbreaking cars such as the MB 300SL, Citroen DS, Continental Mk2, Jaguar D type, and others ……… and this tragedy.
Hats off and and pay due respects to Sir Jackie Stewart, (and others) who spearheaded a campaign for greater safety in GP racing, not always with full support from all drivers or circuit owners.
45 years ago, a golfing buddy of my Dad’s who drove an E-Type coupe for his every day car gave me his collection of Road & Track magazines, which ran, sporadically from 1952 to 1972. Only dimly aware of the 1955 Le Mans disaster, I was struck by the September issue’s cover with its minimalist tricolor overprinted by a somewhat cartoony rendering of fans. As I held the magazine in my hands, I felt chastened by the gravity of those events and the shocking (by modern criteria) decision not to stop the race immediately. I still have that issue, and it still affects me as it did then.
It was difficult to watch, but worth it. It is also hard to imagine that these countries were at war killing millions only a decade earlier.