Running street races was illegal and we knew it. But we didn't care. It was fun. It was cool.
It was about the thrill, the adrenaline, the kick that you get when your heart rate was displayed on the tach, the moment the flag goes down, your foot is hitting the metal and the tires are burning into the asphalt. It was about the sound of the engine, the smell of burning rubber, mixed with burned gas and the smoke you see in the rear mirror and – the smile of a girl.
I first saw her in the morning at the Deli, somebody brought her in. The guys said it was Frank's girl. Why she was there without Frank, I don't know and – I didn't care. I saw her eyes and my pulse was beating. I only hoped she didn't see me blushing when she turned towards me while I was daydreaming, eyeballing her. 'What's up Jake, 9 pm at that roadhouse? Get your pony ready.' 'Racing whom?' I stammered and almost choked on the piece of burger that must have been sitting in my mouth for ages, at least for the last couple of minutes. I simply forgot to chew. 'Stop dreaming. Sam is Frank's new girl and he was bragging that he is going to beat you tonite.'
So Sam was that angel’s name. I was finally done swallowing that piece of meat and able to talk. 'I'm in' – When I arrived, Sam was leaning against Jack's new Camaro in her cute dress while Frank was trying to finish his smoke. 'I mean the checkered flag is cool, but we need to get one of the green ones.' That was Jason, he is always 100 percent - handing over that flag to Sam.
There were hardly ever cars on that piece of the road – not at that time of the day. So it was perfect for races. But we had to be careful because there were some houses close by – and that's why we usually turn on the headlamps last minute or just leave them off.
Sam positioned herself between our cars, my 302 Mustang and Frank's 355 Camaro. It starting raining a bit but we were not so much concerned about the condition of the road more about getting the interior wet. But it was only drizzling.
'You guys ready?' Sam turned to me, and was almost killing me with her smile, before she turned over to Frank and ... 'GO'
My foot was hitting some metal, I could have sworn it was even hitting the asphalt. The tires turned and the water underneath the tires cooked and was gone within milliseconds and a squealing sound of rotating rubber was over sounding the two V8 engines and breaking the silence of the night. There it was – the smell, the sound of the engines, the adrenaline, the pulse that was pumping the blood thru the veins like a carburetor. – The last thing I saw were the lights of that truck that were showing up in front of us.
Late 1960's Drag Race inspired shoot
Editors, please note:
Model: Sam Halayna
Make-Up and Hair: Perian Chomay
Designer: Perian Chomay
Extras: Perian Chomay, Collin Chomay
Photographer: Thomas H.P. Jerusalem
Thomas H.P. Jerusalem Photography Inc. / A-MOMENT-IN-TIME.COM Photography