OWNER'S MANUAL: Learn more about Palm Springs Car Events

In the center of downtown Palm Springs you'll find a star on the sidewalk in the front of the Plaza Theatre with the name of Earl Strebe. Locals know Strebe as one of the early settlers that opened the first movie theater in town. But what many don't know, is that his brother George helped organize the first sports car races in Palm Springs. From 1950-1958 the Palm Springs Road Races brought racing legends Carroll Shelby, Phil Hill and Dan Gurney to town. And because of George Strebe's interest in sports cars and racing,Palm Springs is home to an interesting bit of racing history.


Pictured above, (at Pebble Beach in 2006) is the Ferrari once owned by Jim Kimberly. Kimberly entered this Ferrari in the Palm Springs Road Races in 1951. With Marshall Lewis at the wheel, Kimberly's Ferrari took first place at the Palm Springs Road Races that year. The historical note however, is that this Ferrari was the first Ferrari to race in the Western U.S. The debut race occurred at the Palm Springs Road Races, and marked the first time a Ferrari raced in California.

Over thiry years after George Strebe conducted the races that auto journalists still write about, Palm Springs elected Sonny Bono mayor. Finally, the city not only had a celebrity reputation, but a bona fide celebrity in office. Serving as mayor from 1988-1992, Sonny went on to become a congressman, but died too soon as a result of a skiing accident. He is remembered annually as the visionary that kept Palm Springs thriving by launching the world-famous Palm Springs International Film Festival. What many do not know however, is that Sonny fought long and hard to get support for a motorsports racetrack in Palm Springs. Sonny knew the history of racing in Palm Springs, but he was unsuccessful at convincing the community to think beyond golf and tennis as a means of attracting tourists. Fortunately, he succeeded in convincing them about a film festival.

If you were growing up in the Palm Springs area anytime between 1950-1979, you have a deep appreciation for the desert. Locals like myself remember when there were only a few stoplights on Hwy. 111, (the main artery through the Coachella Valley) and if you were out late, (like I often was, trying to get home before midnight,) you could drive from one end of the valley to the other in approximately 18.5 minutes. There was something special about living in the desert in those days. Those of us oldtimers that have been here for years, especially those that stay in town through the summer months, feel like we can survive most anything. This is what makes us unique in some ways. No matter how difficult things might get, if you've survived more than a few summers where the average temperature is 116 degrees, what could anyone possibly do to bring you down?

Growing up in the 60s and 70s, Hollywood celebrities seemed to be everywhere in the desert. Bob Hope on the golf course, Martin and Sinatra in the clubs. Even president Eisenhower had a desert home. One celebrity however was special in my family. My friends, family and longtime readers know that I am talking about Steve McQueen. Growing up in the desert you would often hear stories about Steve riding motorcycles in the sand dunes. My father worked on the Palm Springs home of Steve McQueen, and would come home nightly sharing stories about Steve tearing up Southridge Road on his Triumph. Unlike Liberace or Frederick Lowe, or the dozens of celebrities that dad had the pleasure of doing work for, it was, without question, Steve McQueen that my dad enjoyed working for the most. Steve touched the lives of so many because he seemed in an interesting way to be one of us. He didn't need a country club membership to live here. He relished the desert for what it was, and he was content with leaving the sand exactly where God put it - so long as he could ride a motorcycle through it! He seemed to understand, like many of us do, that our desert is a little part of heaven. He loved the feel, the smell, and natural high that comes from the hot desert air hitting your face at 55+ mph. And I think it's safe to say he realized that you just don't get that rush driving a golf ball!



I blame my parents for my connection to cars and motorcycles. Pictured above are my mom and dad, (Henry and Rachel). This photo was taken in the desert near Palm Springs, at the MarkTuck Ranch, owned then by Groucho Marx. Dad would have never dreamed of owning a motorcycle if it hadn't been for Steve McQueen, nor would he have given his daughter (me) a motorcycle for her 10th birthday! What I wanted was a piano!

In 2003 when Palm Springs Desktop.com launched the Valley's first e-newsletter, it was important to have a portion of it dedicated to car events. They are, like George, Sonny and Steve knew, as much a part of desert sport as golf and tennis. If nowhere else, these car, bike and air events have a place where they will be noted. Here on this tiny granule of sand that makes up the information superhighway. Here's to the memory of George, Sonny, Steve, and the feel of the blazing hot desert air in your face at 55+!

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