Legend of Talladega Superspeedway only grows with time

Since its inaugural race in 1969, the Talladega Superspeedway has always had an air of uncertainty and mystique surrounding it. 

It’s a mystique reflected by the area of north-central Alabama that the vast racing facility resides in. Today, the world’s best racecar drivers descend on Talladega to embark on 500-mile journeys in vehicles built by some of the greatest mechanical minds in the country. Two centuries ago, a thunder other than engines filled the air of Talladega County. 

In November 1813, United States soldiers, led by General Andrew Jackson, and Creek Warriors engaged in the Battle of Talladega. Nearly two decades later in March 1832, the Creek were met by President Andrew Jackson to go over terms of a treaty that would send the Creek west and give the United States control of the Alabama land the Creek had called home. 

As legend has it, Dry Valley — which is now occupied by the speedway — was cursed as the Creek left the area for the final time. 137 years later, in September 1969, Dry Valley was no longer serenaded by the sound of horses and gunfire, but by engines.

Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was an omen of things to come. But Talladega’s first NASCAR race was, to put it nicely, an unmitigated disaster. Neither Goodyear or Firestone could craft a tire durable enough to not give out when tested against the high banks and high speeds of Bill France’s shiny new track, creating extremely dangerous racing conditions. This led to spats regarding safety between France and the newly formed Professional Drivers Association (PDA). France was famously adverse to driver unions, and he went so far to ban his most popular driver, Curtis Turner, in 1961 due to Turner’s involvement in trying to start a union of drivers. 

With safety concerns running rampant, Richard Petty and the other members of the PDA had only one option: boycott the race. A promoter at heart, France, of course, didn’t want his star drivers to walk out on the inaugural race at his new facility. Understandably, the drivers were more concerned about their safety. The saga concluded with LeeRoy Yarbrough punching France and 36 Cup Series drivers walking out of Talladega.

In the end, Richard Brickhouse won the inaugural 500-mile race at Talladega, albeit under dubious circumstances. France had allowed underpowered cars from the Grand American Series to run in Sunday’s main event, and a potential scoring error marred the story of Brickhouse’s first and only Cup Series win. 

As the years went on, Talladega’s penchant for odd occurrences only grew. It was at Talladega where L.W. Wright conned his way into a Winston Cup race in 1982 after defrauding investors, including future Daytona 500 winner Sterling Marlin. It was at Talladega where, in 1987, Bobby Allison’s harrowing trip into the catchfence took place, which eventually led to NASCAR adopting restrictor plates. It was at Talladega where Rusty Wallace barrel-rolled down the front-stretch, and in the Talladega infield where Davey Allison’s fatal helicopter crash occurred. It was at Talladega where Ricky Craven nearly flew over the turn 1 wall, and at Talladega where Carl Edwards, a la Bobby Allison, went into the front-stretch catchfence. 

Every racetrack has had its share of oddities. Racing is a sport that inherently gives way to strange incidents and legends who live on forever. But Talladega’s legend has grown to be so big; its potential for chaos so exponential, that one has to think back to the 1800s and the supposed curse placed on the valley where the track now rests.