The term “Renaissance man” was coined to encapsulate the talents of those who had mastered multiple artistic disciplines during that like-named historical period. To be sure, painting, sculpting and architecture are demanding, and those who show an affinity for all are justly lauded. But what do we make of a man who mastered the art of driving during the talent-laden renaissance of sports car racing in the 1950’s, then retired to design and build his own street cars, then changed gears again to pioneer one of the most effective and widely utilized highway safety devices ever conceived? And for good measure, was also an accomplished fighter plane pilot—one of an extraordinary few allied pilots to successfully shoot down Germany’s legendary Me-262 jet fighter? And one of the designers of one of America’s legendary road-racing circuits? And the very first Corvette Racing Team principal? Somehow, ‘Renaissance man’ seems too trifling a descriptor.

These are just some of the accomplishments of John Fitch, one of the first, and certainly one of the most respected, American racing drivers to gain acceptance on the world stage. Names like Juan Manuel Fangio, Stirling Moss, Mario Andretti, Dan Gurney, Phill Hill count among John Fitch’s fans and admirers. Men who knew him, raced with and against him. Men whose victories meant more when he competed against them, and whose respect was earned when they not infrequently trailed him across the finish line.

Though John Fitch would quietly become one of the most influential names in sports racing and passenger-car safety of the 20th century, it was not in cars where he first made his mark. One might suppose his natural inclination would be nautical—John’s namesake great-grandfather had been the inventor of the steam ship (a feat often misattributed to Robert Fulton, the man who some years later successfully commercialized the senior Fitch’s invention). And John did have aspirations toward the sea. As the spectre of World War II approached, John—barely into his twenties—bought a 32-foot schooner, christened it Banshee, and sailed around the Gulf of Mexico until the turmoil of the coming war could no longer be avoided at sea.

But John was not one to ignore world events and, feeling a responsibility, attempted to contribute by joining the RAF Eagle Squadron—a unit of American volunteer airmen stationed in Britain. Turned away due to the Eagle’s lack of sufficient airplanes to equip volunteers, John instead enrolled in the US Army Air Corps in Florida, and received fighter pilot training in preparation for the inevitable conflict with Germany. Fully certified, John was already scheduled for deployment to Europe when December 7, 1941 arrived. And within days of the Pearl Harbor attack John was on a ship to Europe, among the first American pilots to serve in the European theater. Eventually he would be assigned a P-51D, America’s most capable and prestigious fighter of WWII. Showing aptitude that foreshadowed his skills at the wheel of a race car, John was one of a rare few to shoot down one of Germany’s fearsomely fabled Messerschmitt Me-262 jet fighters! He was subsequently shot down by anti-aircraft fire while strafing a supply train early in the spring of 1945—a story he readily recounts with rueful good humor. He spent the final weeks of the war as a prisoner of war before being liberated by none other than General Patton himself.

Such exploits would be enough material to make for an exciting life, but John was just getting started. During a brief post-war stint as a dairy farmer on his step-father’s farm in New York he bought an MG TC sports car. So impressed was he with its panache and performance that he decided to establish an MG dealership inside a sporting goods store in White Plains, NY to sell the diminutive British roadster to like-minded enthusiasts. He also decided to campaign the car in a local sports car race at the circuit in Bridgehampton, NY in June of 1949. John had never raced before, but if anything that was all the more reason to do it. He finished 5th overall, found his life’s calling, and proposed to Elizabeth—the woman he would spend the next half-century beside—that very evening.  

JOHN FITCH THE RACER

John entered numerous more events with the MG during the remainder of 1949, taking the first of many victories at the track in Thompson, CT. 1950 saw John taking the grid at another dozen races, in a variety of vehicles ranging from his MG to a homebuilt special powered by a leaky Flathead Ford to a friend’s Jaguar XK-120. He moved up the sports racing ranks and began to draw notice for his skills—enough for Tom Cole to tap John to pilot his ferocious Cadillac-powered Allard in the Argentine Grand Prix in March of 1951, winning the event outright and earning a congratulatory kiss from Evita Peron to accompany the trophy. John then returned to Bridgehampton for the Memorial Day event, taking to the track in his good friend Coby Whitmore’s XK-120 once again, though to trackside observers the car was scarcely recognizeable. John had been impressed with the Jag’s performance the previous fall, but felt the Coventry sheetmetal was much too heavy and was holding the car back. Together with Whitmore, an accomplished artist, John designed an all-new fuselage-like body out of aluminum, shedding an estimated 800 pounds from the XK. The Fitch-Whitmore Jaguar was special by trouncing the competition and easily winning its class.

That performance caught the eye of racer/team-owner Briggs Cunningham, who enlisted him to drive a Cunningham C2-R at Le Mans a month later. From there John was on his way. He drove for Cunningham a half-dozen times that year, as well as several stints at the wheel of a Ferrari. Along the way he enjoyed enough success to become the SCCA’s very first national champion in 1951.

John drove Sebring, Le Mans, Elkhart Lake and Watkins Glen for Cunningham in 1952 and although that car proved unreliable in most of the longer endurance events, it nevertheless helped John make an important step forward in his career. Having tremendous respect for the exceptional feat of engineering Mercedes chief engineer Rudi Uhlenhaut had achieved in building the Le Mans winning Mercedes 300 SL, John made a point of personally congratulating him at the conclusion of the race. Uhlenhaut had noticed John as well, and invited him to drive the 300 SL at a test session a few weeks later—at none other than the Nürburgring, the notorious “Green Hell.” Of course John didn’t hesitate for a second. An invitation for an American driver to test with the Mercedes factory team—and a source of national pride for Germany! Such was the respect John was garnering in the racing community. John had never even seen the ‘ring, but a welcome invitation to drive a Porsche 356 in a support race for the Grand Prix being held just days before gave John some badly needed reconnaissance of the infamous track that featured more than 100 car-devouring turns. He finished 3rd in the Porsche event, and learned enough to impress Uhlenhaut and the rest of the Mercedes brass at his test session, including team boss Alfred Neubauer. John, confident in the sturdiness of the SL, suggested Mercedes campaign it in the notoriously rugged Carrera Panamericana that fall. John eventually convinced the skeptical Neubauer, and just three months later the Mercedes team would finish 1-2-4, with John piloting the 4th place car! This would mark the first time in history an American was hired to drive for the German factory powerhouse team, and the successful relationship would continue for several years.

This was the golden age of sports car racing, and John’s career soared as well. He continued to get drives with top-shelf teams, including the Mercedes factory, Cunningham, as well as factory drives for Sunbeam-Talbot, Cooper and Nash-Healey, Chrysler maven Carl Kiefhaefer, a run at Indy in a Curtis-Offy and numerous privateers. The list of cars he raced reads like a wish-list of sports racing dream cars: Ferrari 195, 2.9 340, 375 and 250 Testa Rossas; Maserati 200S, 250F, 300S, Tipo 60 and 61s; Jaguar D- and E-Types; Porsche 356 and 904s; Corvette SS; and Cunningham’s C-2, -4 and 5 racers. The list of events a travel atlas of the world’s most important races: Sebring, Le Mans, Indy, Daytona Beach, Mille Miglia, Monte Carlo, Targa Florio, Carrera Panamericana, and the Belgian, French and Italian Grands Prix.

DARK DAY AT LE MANS

The most prestigious chapter in John’s driving career would also prove to be one of the most tragic and most influential. For 1955 he was again tapped by the factory Mercedes team. In the season-opening Mille Miglia he again drove the production-based 300 SL, winning the GT class and finishing an impressive 5th overall. That performance in part convinced Neubauer to promote John into the brand-new prototype 300 SLR for the 24-hours of Le Mans. He would be teamed with Frenchman Pierre Levegh in a third factory SLR behind cars fielded for Juan Manuel Fangio/Stirling Moss and Karl Kling/ André Simon. The SLR was a sleek, state-of-the-art machine featuring such innovations as a driver-deployed air-brake and an ultralight magnesium skin—its speed, innovation and its world-class driver lineup made it the heavy favorite against rivals from Jaguar and Aston Martin.

Sadly, the anticipated victory was not to be. Less than 3 hours into the event, John’s teammate Levegh clipped Lance Macklin’s Austin-Healey 100S as the latter swerved to avoid the D-Type Jaguar of Mike Hawthorn as he made a last-second dive for the pits. Levegh was bounced into the earthen embankment that bordered the pit straight and launched into the concrete abutment around the pedestrian tunnel. The car shattered, hurling fiery debris into the dense crowd adjacent to the pit straight. The resulting carnage remains, to this day, the worst accident in racing history. Levegh was killed instantly. Pieces of the car—many of them virtually inextinguishable burning magnesium—rained down on the crowd. In the end, 83 spectators perished, and at least 120 more were injured. Out of respect for the loss of life the remaining two SLRs were withdrawn—including the Fangio/Moss entry which was leading the race by more than two laps at the time.

John was profoundly affected by the tragedy, and it was this event, perhaps more than any other, that led him to dedicate much of his later life to the development of road and race safety. But horrific as that June 1955 day was, it was hardly the end of John’s racing career. He would continue diving competitively until 1961, notably serving as both driver and team manager for the very first factory Corvette racing team in 1956 and the memorable Corvette SS Le Mans effort in 1957.

BEYOND RACING

John’s transition to his post-racing career was a gradual one. For several years John split time between driving professionally and a number of other race-related occupations. John’s extensive racing experience on several continents gave him unique insight into what makes a successful racing circuit. That knowledge was put to use when John was engaged to help design a new road course in the hills of northwestern Connecticut—not far from the area where he had grown up. In laying out Lime Rock Park, John took into consideration elements that would make for exciting racing, but also factors that would maximize the safety of competitors and spectators. The result is a fast and challenging course that sprawls beneath scenic hillsides. John had a unique opportunity to gauge the success of the track, as he raced on it regularly even as he served as the track’s first competition director. Barely a decade later Lime Rock would be one of the first venues to install energy absorbing safely barriers of John’s own design.

And John wasn’t just designing race tracks; he was also designing race cars. When Ed Cole went looking for someone to head up the very first factory racing program for the Corvette in 1956-57, John was his ideal choice. In selecting John, he got a talented and experienced American driver who was internationally respected. But he also got someone who had designed his own racing cars, and who had been a member of the Mercedes-Benz team—surely one of the best organized, most professionally run, and best engineered operations in racing history. Who better then to build a professional team for Corvette? But even for a man of John’s experience it would be no easy task. In factory form the first-generation Vette was a far cry from race-worthy (so much so that Zora Arkus-Duntov was rumored to have opposed factory involvement). The debut was to be at the brutal Sebring, and the Vette required extensive strengthening just to survive a single lap at speed, let alone 12 grueling hours. John headed up a team that methodically went through the car, discarding any production pieces that were suspect (and there were many.) In the end, his ruthlessness paid off not just with a finish, but with a class victory and a 9th place overall for John and his co-driver Walt Hansgen.

The success spurred GM to throw more resources and support (including Duntov’s) behind the Corvette Racing program, and in 1957 John would return the much more exotic Corvette SS—essentially a purpose-built sports prototype with a magnesium body, a tubular spaceframe chassis and a completely custom suspension. The car weighed just 1850lbs and looked almost nothing like its namesake. About the only thing the SS shared with the road-going Vette was a 283ci smallblock V-8, but the race unit had been massaged to produce 307hp—enough to push the svelte and slippery SS past 180mph! But all that weight savings came at a cost; the unproven technology turned out to be no match for Sebring’s bumps—the SS retired with suspension failure after just 23 laps.

Later that year GM withdrew from direct involvement in racing, so the factory Corvette Racing effort was suspended. It was not, however, the end of John’s involvement with Corvette, as he and longtime friend Briggs Cunningham would return with a Cunningham-owned privateer team of Vettes for Sebring in 1960, in preparation for an all-American assault on Le Mans. The Sebring effort was thwarted by an accident, but the Le Mans campaign was a rousing success. Aided by inclement weather, the heavy but bulletproof Vette excelled in the wet, bringing John and teammate Bob Grossman the class win and an 8th overall—the first ever for Corvette at Le Mans.

JOHN FITCH THE CAR BUILDER

It was John’s strong connection to Chevrolet and Ed Cole that springboarded him into the business of tuning and modifying cars for the street. Surprisingly though, it was not the Corvette that was his target subject. John had raced a number of mid- and rear-engined sports cars from Europe, and he appreciated their inherent advantages in weight and balance. Porsche in particular had managed to extract impressive performance from its rear-mounted, air-cooled boxer-engine formula. Coincidentally, Chevrolet had just recently introduced a compact sedan that emulated that formula—the Corvair. Chevrolet had made some half-hearted attempts and performance variants of the Corvair, but its focus was more on economy. John felt with some modest improvements the Corvair could really shine as a European-style GT, and he christened his creation the Corvair Sprint.

In the 1960s, most tuners of American cars focused on horsepower, often to the exclusion of all else. That was fine for drag-strips and stoplight wars, but that wasn’t what touring car performance was about. John wanted a car that could perform with all-around composure—something that a typical Detroit boat with a heavy cast-iron V-8 up front and a clumsy solid axle out back would never do. The Corvair, with its fully independent suspension and 1000 lbs less mass to heave around was the obvious choice. From there he made targeted improvements. He shortened the steering ratio by 50-percent to make it more accurate and responsive. He revised the suspension geometry and added stiffer shocks and springs to dial out most of the factory understeer and give the car a neutral balance. He offered a beefed up brake package to give the Sprint more stopping power and fade resistance. Unlike many tuners who played with engines until they were all but undriveable on the street or threatened to violently expel expensive parts without constant maintenance, John chose to leave the Corvair’s powerplant largely unmolested. Minor adjustments to timing and a freeing up of the restrictive stock intake plumbing uncorked about 15 extra horses—a respectable 10-percent increase from stock with no loss of smoothness or reliability. For those that wanted more, an optional set of Weber carbs (in place of the stock Rochesters) would add about 15 more. To these performance items John also offered a host of style and convenience items to dress up the Sprint.

The improvements utterly transformed the Corvair, and press of the day justly lauded the improvements. But effective as the Sprint mods were, there was one thing they could not do—make the Corvair bodyshell smaller or lighter. For that John would need to design something all new—so that’s just what he did! John had the idea to craft a new two-seater sport scar body to utilize the Corvair powertrain and suspension parts. By doing so he would eliminate that from the Corvair which he did not need—namely the back seat, a foot of wheelbase and about 600lbs. Enter once again John’s longtime friend and co-conspirator Coby Whitmore. John gave Whitmore the parameters and he designed the swoopy, progressive targa-top beauty that would become the Fitch Phoenix. The body was steel, giving it a fit and finish that far surpassed any fiberglass competitor. Despite that, it tipped the scales at just 2150 lbs. That gave the Phoenix a better power-to-weight ratio than a contemporary Porsche 911! And the 40/60 front/rear balance gave it nimble, confident handling. Because it employed the Corvair suspension and powertrain, most of the refinements (and parts) that went into the making the Sprint carried over.

If the reviews of the Sprint had been good, the reception of the Phoenix was stellar. Sadly, just as momentum was building, new government regulations were handed down regarding passenger-car safety. Unsure how they would affect Phoenix production, John put it on hold and soon thereafter Chevrolet pulled the plug on the Corvair, effectively cutting off the supply of running gear. And so Phoenix production ceased with only the single prototype having been completed. But so thoroughly and thoughtfully engineered was the design, it still runs flawlessly today—45 years after its debut!

John also worked up prototypes for a couple other modified GM cars—namely the Olds Toronado and Pontiac Firebird. The Toro tweaks centered on battening down the handling of the big cruiser by installing bigger wheels and tires and stiffer shocks. Sturdier brake linings and recalibrated boost settings gave more positive feel. Uncorking the restrictive intake and exhaust freed up an extra 20hp. It also incorporated a host of interesting luxury features like forced-air seat ventilation, a burglar alarm (in 1966!), a sliding sunroof and a 4-track stereo stashed in the glove compartment. The Firebird was a proposal to GM for a special 1967 high-performance version—what would essentially become the Trans Am two years later. It featured suspension upgrades focused on high-speed stability, stronger brakes, a 30hp boost in horsepower from a new camshaft and exhaust modifications, and dramatic C-pillar extensions that give the car a distinctive fastback profile. The extensions weren’t just cosmetic—they had air extractors for ventilating the cabin and intakes for rear brake cooling.

SAFETY INNOVATIONS

Perhaps John’s most important accomplishments—arguably even more so than his racing success—came in the area of safety innovation. Whether for the track or for public roads, his contributions have saved lives and pushed forward the science of understanding and preventing injury. Being so close to a tragedy like the ’55 Le Mans crash is bound to influence a person, but John’s response—so proactive and pragmatic—is perfectly in keeping with his personality. Identify what has gone wrong previously, and what can be done to minimize the chance of it happening again. To hear him describe the events, one of the most addressable aspects concerns retaining walls and barriers that better control a car in an impact. In racing terms, that means a barrier that absorbs and dissipates as much impact as possible, and redirects any residual energy in a harmless direction. In the case of the Le Mans crash, the earthen barriers with their woven surface served to snag and twist the crashing car, sending it in an unpredictable direction that ultimately resulted pieces sailing into the crowd.

John envisioned something entirely different—a wall that deflected on initial impact to absorb the energy, then directs the sliding car parallel to the wall rather than rebounding it perpendicularly back into traffic. His study of the problem eventually resulted in the Fitch Displaceable Guardrail—a system of skid-mounted barriers that slide back—not unlike a football tackling dummy—and progressively reducing the angle of impact and channeling the car in a safer direction. The design has been employed at a number of tracks and has been credited with saving drivers’ lives.

The concept of energy absorption and controlled redirection is just as valid on public roads, and it is here that John’s safety work has made its greatest impact. The Fitch Inertial Barrier is a staple on highways—the ubiquitous yellow barrels we see at exit ramps and bridge abutments across the country. The idea is simple—each barrel holds a volume of sand (or water in some cases). The barrels are positioned in front of a hazard in layers so that each layer (or row) of barrels contains an increasing volume of sand, thereby producing a gradual deceleration in the event of an impact. The size and shape of the barrels resists ramping or rebounding the vehicle in an unsafe direction. And their design makes them easy to position, maintain and repair. Almost every state now employs some version of the Fitch Barrier, as well as several other countries. The design has earned John awards from the National Academy of Sciences, as well as an award from the President of the United States for his lifetime contributions to public safety.