Formula One’s Notorious Dallas Grand Prix: A Cautionary Tale
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In early 1983, Buddy Boren was contemplating a unique idea. The lifelong Dallas resident reached out to his friend, Larry Waldrop, a prominent construction owner in Dallas. Their meeting took place at Arthur’s, an upscale steakhouse located in the affluent Park Cities area of Dallas-Fort Worth. The ambiance was perfect for discussing business ventures—adorned with oil paintings, dark wood, and the sound of clinking glass, it was an ideal setting for forging bold plans.
Boren, who had a passion for cars and drag racing since his youth, proposed the creation of a documentary centered on the legendary Carroll Shelby, a Dallas-based racer and track designer. However, Waldrop believed they could aim even higher. “I said, ‘Buddy, you know, I’m really not interested because you know you can’t make money on a documentary,’” Waldrop recounted with a chuckle. “Then I said, ‘If I’m going to invest in something, I want to do something like those cars that race over in Monte Carlo.’ That’s how naive I was at the time.” Little did they know that this exchange would eventually lead to one of the most notorious races in Formula One history—a race that resembled “Mad Max” more than the glamorous Monaco Grand Prix, where drivers faced the scorching Texas heat while financial troubles simmered below the surface.
As Formula One now hosts 24 races a year, the 1984 Dallas Grand Prix, which took place 40 years ago, serves as a cautionary tale of the challenges of organizing even a single weekend of elite motorsport. The event was fraught with difficulties, straddling the line between a bold venture and a predictable disaster, depending on whom you ask. Two primary factors contributed to its downfall: the often-overlooked financial uncertainties of the motorsport world and the sweltering mid-summer heat of Dallas.
“It’s a very sad situation,” expressed Chris Pook, the track designer and promoter, lamenting the race’s fate as a one-off event. “It’s a great shame, a great shame.” By 1984, Dallas was experiencing a cultural renaissance, with an influx of computer and telecom companies and the construction of eight of the ten tallest buildings in the city’s skyline. The city hosted the Republican National Convention that August, and the soap opera “Dallas” was a massive hit, even in Europe, solidifying the perception of Dallas as the quintessential modern American city.
“You had this television show going on with J.R. Ewing that the Europeans were feeding on voraciously, as well as the American audience,” Pook remarked. “You still had the lingering (feeling) from 1963 with the Kennedy assassination, of this being the wild, wild west and everybody walking around in cowboy hats.” The Formula One world embraced this image during the Dallas Grand Prix weekend.
However, the project proved to be financially daunting—$1 million was needed to pave the 2.38-mile course and another $1.5 million for safety barriers, not to mention the necessary promotion in a city largely unfamiliar with the European sport. After establishing Dallas Grand Prix, Inc., Waldrop and Boren connected with Don Walker, a wealthy real estate developer and avid racing enthusiast. Walker owned a company managing various commercial and residential properties and had experience operating Can-Am races in both the United States and Canada. During their first meeting, Walker volunteered to cover all the financial requirements to bring the race to fruition. “Little did I know where he got the money from,” Waldrop later reflected, noting that Boren had inadvertently signed an agreement granting Walker complete control of the company—a decision he would come to regret.
Securing approval from both the city and Formula One was crucial. By the 1980s, F1 was perceived as an exclusive, opulent sport, featuring attractive drivers racing in some of the world’s most glamorous locations. Cities that successfully courted F1 were seen as desirable places for business, tourism, and socializing. Fortunately for Dallas, many Europeans found the city intriguing. With Pook’s assistance, the FIA and then-F1 CEO Bernie Ecclestone granted approval for a race in Dallas in 1984.
Before approaching Formula One, Boren needed the city’s endorsement to host the event at Fair Park, a 277-acre area downtown known for the annual State Fair of Texas and the Cotton Bowl stadium. Waldrop recounted that the park’s manager was initially skeptical. “He thought we were crazy. But he was willing to talk with us. So I found his secret: He loved scotch.” Waldrop cleverly arranged meetings at 4 p.m. and made it a point to have a bottle of scotch on hand, leading to some lighthearted moments during their discussions.
The fairgrounds, a historic Texas landmark featuring winding streets through Art Deco architecture, museums, and livestock barns, would provide a unique backdrop for an F1 race. “Well, first of all, they got the Cotton Bowl sitting in it, right? It’s a historical place,” Pook noted. “It’s got some interesting architecture to it. Even though there were horse and cow barns there, they’re interesting. And you run a race around all day with all that stuff as a backdrop? It creates its own life—it creates a Texas life. It’s the Texas message. It’s a Dallas message.”
Pook, who had previously designed the successful Long Beach Grand Prix in 1975, was tasked with creating the track layout around Fair Park. His team developed a comprehensive engineering profile of the circuit, detailing a construction plan for safety equipment and calculating the angles of each turn. The final design resulted in a 2.424-mile (3.901 km) course that wound around the Cotton Bowl and between the Art Deco museums within the state fairgrounds. Concrete walls topped with chain-link fencing would line the entire track, with most corners being blind turns and a configuration that allowed for high speeds due to its sweeping curves.
Enhancing the fan experience was a priority for Boren, Walker, and Waldrop. They envisioned the weekend as a Texas version of the Monaco Grand Prix—a festival atmosphere infused with Texas flair, appealing to a wide audience. Despite the popularity of the Dallas Cowboys, the sports-hungry Metroplex was largely unfamiliar with Formula One. Advertisements running in the Dallas Times Herald and Fort Worth Star-Telegram painted an exhilarating picture of the event, describing it as “unparalleled ecstasy” and “two hundred miles of sweet agony.” The ad headline proclaimed, “An event you’ll always remember. A thrill you’ll never forget.”
Bobby Epstein, the future chairman of the Circuit of the Americas in Austin, Texas, home of the United States Grand Prix, was drawn in by the advertisements. As a teenager working at the Farmers’ Market and an avid racing fan, he and his brother purchased the cheapest tickets available. “The Formula One world was totally behind us,” Waldrop said. “They made a mistake, though.” Instead of scheduling the race in April, as had been suggested, the FIA and F1 set the date for July 8. Unfortunately, July and August are typically the hottest months in Dallas, where the average temperature in July 1984 reached 84 degrees Fahrenheit (28.8 Celsius). “Hotter than hell,” Walker remarked. Pook referred to it as “hotter than Hades.”
As race day approached, internal conflicts emerged within Dallas Grand Prix, Inc. Four months before the event, Walker bought Boren out of the company, leaving him with two-thirds control and Waldrop with one-third. This dispute delayed the track’s paving by about four months. The temporary asphalt was laid roughly six to seven weeks prior to the race. Pook noted that such asphalt requires three to four months and a complete weather cycle to properly cure. “With the intense heat of the weekend and the unbelievable torque that Formula One tires produce, that asphalt didn’t stand a chance,” Pook explained.
When race week arrived, the Formula One entourage descended upon Dallas. Outside the track, everything appeared to be going well. Drivers and their families attended a gala at Southfork Ranch, the iconic setting of the television show “Dallas.” Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, were present for the celebrity race on Saturday, leaving Stirling Moss in awe at the prospect of meeting a U.S. president. The event sold out, with over 100,000 fans braving the heat to attend the festivities at Fair Park. However, Epstein noted that the atmosphere lacked the festival vibe that casual fans might expect at modern F1 weekends or even this weekend’s U.S. Grand Prix. The event did manage to attract high-society individuals and passionate gearheads.
“If you go back and look at the Times Herald and the Star-Telegram, look at the society pages, the coverage of all these spectacular parties being put on in people’s homes in Highland Park,” Pook stated. “Everybody trying to out-party their neighbor.” Both Pook and Waldrop indicated that F1 was pleased with the buzz surrounding the event. “It was just hot,” Pook reiterated. Meanwhile, the racecars began to show signs of the track’s deteriorating condition.
The weekend schedule was packed, featuring seven different racing events on Saturday, with five more slated for Sunday in addition to the two-hour F1 race. While drivers appreciated the circuit’s speed, they voiced concerns about the lack of run-off areas and the bumpy surface. “It was a typical street circuit—lots of concrete walls, not particularly fast,” recalled Lotus-Renault driver Derek Warwick. “There were a few places where you could overtake, and it was very bumpy. Very bumpy, actually.”
The weekend heat averaged around 100 degrees Fahrenheit (37 degrees Celsius). Due to the extreme temperatures and constant racing, the track began to disintegrate. Crews were continuously tasked with repairs, and at one point, drivers had to practice at six in the morning to minimize the impact of the heat on the asphalt. “Jacques Laffite, I remember, came to practice one morning in his pajamas,” Warwick recalled, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.
As the race approached, some drivers even considered boycotting the event entirely. “A lot of the drivers didn’t want to do it, to be honest,” Warwick admitted. “People didn’t want to do it because of the heat. I don’t think anybody was prepared for the kinds of temperatures that were out there.” Ultimately, the boycott did not materialize. On race day, the start time was moved to 11 a.m. to alleviate the sweltering conditions.
“It was a race of attrition,” Warwick stated. He and teammate Nigel Mansell started on the front row. Twenty-six drivers took the start, but one by one, they began to drop out. Eddie Cheever spun out on Lap 8, and Warwick lost control while attempting to overtake Mansell for the lead (he still regrets that move to this day). The relentless heat took a toll on engines, and tires melted away on the crumbling surface. Drivers struggled to cope with the oppressive conditions, with Piercarlo Ghinzani’s crew pouring ice water over him during a pit stop, and Huub Rothengatter dousing himself with cold water after finishing the race. Mansell’s gearbox failed on the final lap, and he collapsed from exhaustion while trying to coax the car over the finish line, with Ghinzani overtaking him as marshals rushed to assist.
In the end, Keke Rosberg claimed victory, having previously remarked that drivers were complaining excessively about the heat. According to the Star-Telegram, Rosberg had devised a clever solution: a specialized helmet featuring a rubber bladder filled with cold water, a design initially tested by NASA.
Ultimately, the consensus among fans and drivers alike was that the inaugural Dallas Grand Prix was a disaster from start to finish. Drivers expressed more frustration with the track conditions than with the heat. On the night before the race, crews laid new concrete to patch the crumbling surface. Cheever remarked that driving on the mix of new concrete and deteriorating asphalt was more treacherous than navigating a wet racetrack. “You couldn’t really prepare yourself for the circuit,” Rosberg told the Star-Telegram.
The extreme heat dominated the experience for fans, who sought shaded areas throughout Fair Park. Epstein recalled a noticeable thinning of the crowd as the race progressed and temperatures soared. “When it’s 100 degrees and sunny, even though they have great intentions of sitting in their seats, they don’t last long,” Epstein said. “Over the course of a couple of hours, it seemed like all the security and order sort of deteriorated to this survival game at some point.”
Despite the chaos, it appeared that Dallas had a future in the Formula One circuit. The event had a three-year contract, and both F1 and Ecclestone were inclined to honor it. The second year could have focused on addressing the issues that arose during the inaugural race. Historical precedents, such as the Miami GP and Las Vegas GP, have demonstrated that challenges can be tackled effectively in the second year. The most pressing issues for the Dallas GP seemed relatively straightforward to rectify: moving the race date to an earlier time in the year and ensuring the paving was completed well in advance.
The fans had shown up, but if Epstein’s perspective is any indication, the promoters would need to work hard to entice them back. “I’m not sure I would have bought a ticket had it come back the second year,” Epstein reflected. “I’m not sure anybody would have. Depends on the date, I guess.”
In the months following the race, Dallas Grand Prix, Inc. faced a slew of legal and financial challenges. Dallas City Council member Diane Ragsdale and the Dallas Black Chamber of Commerce filed a class-action lawsuit against Walker and the organization for failing to adequately consult with the predominantly Black, low-income neighborhoods surrounding Fair Park. This hindered Waldrop from negotiating a 1985 date with Formula One. Meanwhile, the FBI and SEC launched investigations into Walker for allegedly diverting company and real estate funds into his personal accounts, with investors accusing him of misappropriating their money to fund failing ventures.
Ultimately, the Dallas Grand Prix, as a first-year event, was destined to become one of those failed endeavors. “He thought, ‘OK, I’ll just take some of my investors’ money and put it in this race, and I’ll get it back on Monday morning afterward,’” Pook explained. “Guess what? The first-year costs eat you up.” On March 15, 1985, Walker filed for bankruptcy on behalf of Dallas Grand Prix, Inc.
“The event ceased there and then,” Pook stated. “Nobody wanted to step in and rescue it because of all those ongoing investigations.”
The failure of the Dallas Grand Prix can be attributed to its status as a one-off event. However, both Waldrop and Pook believe that the event’s successes and its contributions to the city’s image remain significant legacies, further reinforcing the idea of Dallas as a modern urban center, free from outdated stereotypes.
“We were no longer the guys with straw in our teeth,” Waldrop asserted. “We were a metropolitan area. There’s no doubt in my mind that (the race) added to the image. You throw our race in with the TV series ‘Dallas,’ and Dallas became a metropolitan city with those two events.”
Another lasting legacy of the race is its influence on the contemporary U.S. Grand Prix at Circuit of the Americas in Austin. When Epstein played a key role in securing the long-term contract between COTA and Formula One in 2010, he was adamant about not repeating the same mistakes made in Dallas. “When I got involved, one of my first conversations with F1 and Bernie and everyone was, ‘We are not going to risk our money and do this in June,’” Epstein recalled. “And I think, in fact, it was slated for the end of June. So that was the only input I had towards everything, which was the calendar date on this thing is wrong. We’ve got to get a fall or spring date. And so we wound up slotted in the fall.”
Boren passed away in 2011, but in interviews, Waldrop and Pook spoke fondly of him as the driving force behind the event. “The guy was the nicest,” Pook said. “He was just a nice man with an idea. And a desire.”
As Formula One continues to expand, courting new cities worldwide, it serves as a reminder of the complexities involved in such ambitions. It is one thing to aspire to introduce your city to the world of F1; it is another to strike the right balance between sport and spectacle while successfully managing the logistics of running a race—be it practical, political, or financial. These challenges persist 40 years later, and getting it right from the outset is paramount.
“If your audience is 15 to 19 years old and they’re teenagers like we were, it’s one thing to go out when it’s 100 degrees out,” Epstein concluded. “But to ask people who have a lot of choices in life to come back, and they melt one year? It’s hard to get them to return.”
(Top photo: Paul-Henri Cahier / Getty Images; Design: Eamonn Dalton / The Athletic; Graphics: Drew Jordan / The Athletic)
