In the early days of NASCAR’s Grand National Series, weather was also an unpredictable wildcard. Short tracks like Martinsville Speedway — the tight, 0.526-mile paved oval nestled in Virginia’s Blue Ridge foothills — tested drivers’ skill, car setup, and sheer grit more than raw horsepower. In April 1961, the historic venue hosted not one, but two races under the “Virginia 500” banner. The first was cut short by rain; the second became a legendary tale of comeback and old-school determination. Together, they delivered breakthrough moments for future Hall of Famers and highlighted why Martinsville earned its reputation as “The Paperclip.”
April 9: A Rain-Soaked First Win for “Fast Freddie” Lorenzen
The season’s 13th race drew 27 entries for the scheduled 500-lap, 250-mile grind. Qualifying put Rex White on the pole in his Chevrolet, with rising star Fred Lorenzen — a former USAC standout nicknamed “Fast Freddie” — starting second in the Holman-Moody #28 Ford.
From the drop of the green, White dominated, leading the first 118 laps. But on lap 119, Lorenzen made his move. The smooth-handling Ford sliced through traffic and took command for the final 31 laps. Then the skies opened. After just 149 laps (about 75 miles), officials waved the red flag. The race was called official under caution, with an average speed of 68.366 mph. Lorenzen crossed the line first — his maiden NASCAR victory — earning roughly $1,150 and a place in the record books.
The finishing order read like a Who’s Who of 1960s NASCAR royalty: White second, Glen Wood third in a Wood Brothers Ford, Emanuel Zervakis fourth, Ned Jarrett fifth, and Junior Johnson sixth in a Pontiac. Richard Petty finished eighth, Tim Flock ninth. Several big names — including Buck Baker and Cotton Owens — soldiered on but couldn’t challenge the leaders before the rain ended play.
The April 9th Virginia 500 was called after only 149 of 500 laps due to heavy rain — well short of halfway in terms of distance, though it was ruled official. Because it fell so far short of the advertised 250-mile event, NASCAR made the rare decision to schedule a full makeup race (the “Virginia 500 Sweepstakes”) at the same track three weeks later on April 30. The two races were treated as completely separate events for points and stats.
This kind of doubleheader at the same venue because of a severely shortened rain race was not standard practice, even in the 1960s. It happened occasionally in NASCAR’s early years when a race was drastically abbreviated and promoters/track owners pushed for a full-distance “make-good” event, but it was the exception rather than the rule.
April 30: Junior Johnson’s Epic Comeback — and a Sledgehammer Story
Thirty cars lined up under sunny skies for the rescheduled 500-lapper. Rex White again grabbed the pole, but the early story belonged to Fred Lorenzen. Starting second, the Holman-Moody Ford rocketed to the front on lap 32 and looked unbeatable, leading a commanding 334 laps (from lap 32 through 365).
Running mid-pack was Junior Johnson in the #27 Pontiac owned by Rex Lovette (founder of Holly Farms poultry). Starting 17th, Johnson — the former North Carolina moonshiner famous for his aggressive, flat-out style — had already earned a reputation as one of the toughest short-track racers. But early in the race he trailed Lorenzen by four full laps.
Then came the turning point. Lorenzen’s engine began to sour. The Holman-Moody crew made an extended pit stop to nurse the ailing Ford back to life. While Lorenzen sat helplessly on pit road, Johnson poured on the speed. Setting a torrid pace lap after lap, the Pontiac driver erased the deficit in stunning fashion — going from four laps down to four laps ahead. He ultimately led 135 laps and cruised to victory, finishing a staggering four laps ahead of runner-up Emanuel Zervakis. Fireball Roberts took third, Tommy Irwin fourth, Buck Baker fifth, and Ned Jarrett sixth. Lorenzen salvaged only 11th after his mechanical woes. The race averaged 66.278 mph.
Why Johnson Won: Relentless Pace, Team Tension, and Classic Short-Track Magic
The victory wasn’t just about speed — it was about Johnson’s refusal to back off when everyone else told him to. This was one of the first NASCAR races to experiment with two-way radios (adapted from Holly Farms’ chicken-truck fleet). Car owner Rex Lovette of Holly Farms and crew chief Fred Johnson (Johnson’s own brother) used the radio to urge Junior to “take it easy” and protect his huge lead. Johnson simply turned the radio off and ignored the pit-board messages that read “E-Z” (for ease off).
As he later explained, backing down would upset the Pontiac’s handling on Martinsville’s tight corners. He ran the car “just as fast as it would go” — the same wide-open style he used outrunning revenuers on mountain roads. Lovette grew so frustrated he once grabbed a sledgehammer during a pit stop, jokingly (or not) threatening “great bodily harm.” Johnson just grinned, gave a thumbs-up, and kept hammering the throttle. He crossed the finish line four laps ahead, turning a potential disaster into one of his most memorable wins.
The 1961 season was already shaping up as a changing of the guard. Lorenzen’s rain-shortened triumph at Martinsville was his first of what would become 26 career victories; he followed it with another win at Darlington the next week. Johnson, already a short-track terror, would notch seven wins that year and go on to 50 as a driver before becoming one of NASCAR’s most successful team owners (six championships). Richard Petty, still early in his career, finished respectably in both April races but was learning the lessons that would make him “The King.”
These two April Sundays at Martinsville captured everything fans loved about 1960s NASCAR: unpredictable weather, mechanical heartbreak, fearless driving, and larger-than-life personalities. The rain gave Lorenzen his breakthrough; the makeup race gave Johnson a story for the ages. More than six decades later, the Paperclip still delivers that same brand of short-track magic — but few weekends have ever matched the drama of those two rain-soaked, redemptive Virginia 500s.
