'Jimmy was my hero. He was a driver everyone aspired to'

Published on Thursday 3 April 2008 22:28

"EVEN now, 40 years later, Jimmy's death hits me hard when I stop and think about it." The mobile telephone call to Bahrain falls silent; yet I can still hear Sir Jackie Stewart's breath. After nine or ten seconds, a period of silence which feels like an eternity, the 68-year-old regains his composure, takes a deep breath, and continues: "Jim Clark was a legend."

Forty years after the racer's death in a meaningless Formula 2 race at a damp and miserable Hockenheim on Sunday 7 April, 1968, the loss of the iconic Scot – who won two Formula 1 world crowns and the Indianapolis 500, and missed out on at least another two world titles because of ill-fortune – continues to cut deep into the minds of not only those who were close to him, but to anyone with an interest in motorsport.

Ten years ago, Sir Jackie said to me when unveiling a statue of Jim in his late colleague's native Fife: "That day in Hockenheim they took from Scotland one of its greatest examples of a sportsman and one of the greatest racing drivers the world will ever know." That sentiment will never change.

I was a boy of nine when I heard the black and white television newsflash telling me 'Jim Clark has been killed in a crash at Hockenheim.' Even at that age, I knew then that Clark was someone special and that we had lost someone very special. I remember crying, and I didn't know him.

Stewart, though, was as close a friend as the deeply private Clark allowed into his inner circle. On the day of Clark's death, Stewart was carrying out a safety check at the Jarama circuit, which was to host the Spanish Grand Prix, when a local man ambled up to him.

"He told me Jimmy had been involved in a crash," Stewart explained. "I asked him if he knew if he'd been hurt? He shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

"A few minutes later he came back up to me. I remember to this day the patch of ground where I was standing. He didn't speak very good English at all, but all he said was, 'Jim Clark dead'."

It was those three words, spoken before the emotion tightened his throat, which triggered Stewart's silence on the phone. Clark and Stewart went back a long way.

"It was 1958 and I was at my dad's garage in Dumbuck where I had been working at the petrol pumps when Jim came in looking for my older brother, Jimmy," Stewart explained.

"Jim was on his way home having been racing at Rest-and-be-Thankful and I knew he was already somebody special. I knew he was someone I should be looking at." The eager Stewart, three years younger than Clark, ran from the house, past Clark's TR-3 which was being filled with Esso Extra.

"I'll never forget seeing him for the first time. He was totally relaxed and wearing a flat cap and blue round-necked sweater. Beneath that he wore a collar and tie. He was the perfect image of a successful racing driver."

Unbeknown to Stewart, that meeting was to be the catalyst for a lifelong friendship, though he is still quick not to call it a rivalry.

"Rivalry would be the wrong word because Jimmy was the dominant factor," Stewart continued. "We were two Scotsmen racing together at the same time. In my first year racing in F1 in 1965 I finished second to Jimmy three times. We were on the podium together at the French, Belgian and Dutch grands prix. That was an immeasurable achievement for a small country such as Scotland.

"It was a dream. He was my hero because he really was the leading driver in the world at that time and certainly the best driver I ever raced against. To be second or third to Jim Clark was more than enough."

The two were close. So close that they shared a flat together. But this was no ordinary flat. This was a palatial abode in London's Mayfair in Balfour Street belonging to saloon car champion John Whitmore.

"We both pleaded poverty," Stewart laughed. "I certainly had no money and Jimmy always professed that he didn't. What he did have though were the girls. It wasn't unknown for him to be running four or five at a time, yet somehow he always managed to make each one think they were the only one.

"But that was just Jimmy being Jimmy. We were two Scots running side-by-side. I remember we were called Batman and Robin, we were so close. He was an amazing man and certainly in terms of driving there are only a few people who will ever know the true impact Jim Clark the racing driver made around the world when it came to putting Scottish motorsport on the map."

Clark's record stands for itself: 25 grands prix victories from only 72 starts – of which 33 were pole positions – remains a stunning statistic. And all at a time when Formula 1 racing was bereft of significant safety measures. The risk of death was a serious reality every time the driver strapped himself into the cockpit.

The world of Formula 1 racing was a quantum leap from the quietness of the farm in the village of Kilmany in Fife, where Clark was born before his family moved south to the Borders town of Duns.

Quickly, Clark's abilities behind the wheel of a car became obvious and his first race victory came on 5 October, 1957, when he won the Border Motor Racing Club Trophy at Charterhall. Driving his own Triumph TR-3, victory in the Rest-and-be-Thankful Hillclimb soon followed.

Very soon, he met Colin Chapman, the founder of Lotus Cars, who took a chance on the young Scot and built one of the most effective partnerships in racing. Clark drove Lotus to a first world title, and the team soon dominated the sport.

Clark and Chapman became close friends as well as colleagues, and their strong relationship was the key to the team's success and development during the 1960s. The dynamic was the envy of the paddock.

On his way to his two Formula 1 world crowns in 1963 and 1965 and the Indy500 title win – in which he led 190 of the 200 laps, totally dominating the opposition in his Lotus – Clark also savoured wins in the British and European Touring Car Championships, the British and European Formula Two Championships and a hat-trick of Tasman Series Cup victories in 1965, 1967 and 1968.

He also claimed victories in the Lotus 23B and the highly difficult Lotus 30 sports cars. That was the proof of his genius as a driver – he was able to compete in every car he turned to.

His untimely death at the age of 32 stunned not only Scotland, but the whole of the world. It was only three months after Clark had won the 1968 South African Grand Prix, leading a Lotus-Ford 1-2 with Graham Hill.

"No one can gauge the size of the hole Jim's death left in motorsport," Stewart reflected.

"He was a genius. A driver everyone aspired to, and a man whose attitude and behaviour was exemplary.

"There isn't a day passes in which he's not in my thoughts."