On This Week #15: The greatest ever?
If it could happen to Jim Clark, it could happen to anyone. That was the widely-held reaction to the almost indigestible news that the two-time Formula 1 world champion had perished in a banal Formula 2 accident, at the old Hockenheimring in Germany, 56 years ago this week.
Like the death of Senna 36 years later, it was a pivotal moment for the sport: one that kick-started a campaign for improved safety in motorsport, championed by his compatriot and great friend Jackie Stewart in particular. After Clark died, measures that we now take for granted, such as guard-rails and run-off areas, began to be introduced. Before, the only things stopping drivers who flew off the road were ditches and trees.
Ironically, Clark should arguably have never been at Hockenheim in the first place. Back in those days, it was common of course for drivers to switch between different racing series: Clark had even taken part in the RAC Rally two years before, in 1966, driving a Lotus Cortina.
The main international motorsport event on that fateful April 7, 1968, was actually the BOAC 500 six-hour sports car race at Brands Hatch in England, which had particular interest as it was where the the new Ford V8 F3L – the successor to the famous GT40 – would make its debut.
It was widely predicted that Clark would be driving. But there was a clash of sponsorship politics, as Clark's two main employers, Ford and Lotus, both wanted his services during the same weekend. Lotus was keen for him to drive in the second round of the Formula 2 European Championship, while Ford wanted him to debut its new sports car at Brands Hatch.
Lotus won that battle, which is how Clark came to be lining up on the grid for the Formula 2 race in Hockenheim for the first time, despite not being particularly happy with his red and gold Lotus 48. On the morning of the accident, his mechanics were still driving it around the paddock trying to track down the source of an elusive misfire.
Back at Brands Hatch, Bruce McLaren was instead drafted in to drive the new Ford (although he would retire with a driveshaft problem, while the old GT40 ironically won). Nobody was paying too much attention to what was happening in Germany.
At the time Hockenheim was still relatively new, having only been opened three years earlier. The track was damp after some overnight rain and after starting seventh on the grid, Clark had worked his way up to sixth when the accident occurred on lap six, at a point on the old track – at the exit of the ‘Shrimps Head' curve – that was flat-out, but not especially complex in the overall scheme of things.
Nobody knows exactly what happened in the accident; it was before the days that all incidents were forensically investigated, and Lotus never drew any serious conclusions. The cause seemed to point to a mechanical or component failure of some sort – on a car that was almost new, having only been raced once before.
“Suddenly Jim's car broke out,” said Chris Irwin, who was driving directly behind him. “It looked like something mechanical.”
Derek Bell, who also took part in the race, added: “If he went round one of those corners and the engine cut out the car would have been going sideways. Then the engine comes back, but he's all out of shape, plus the wet…”
An eye-witness at a marshal's post recounted how Clark fought to keep the car on the road as it fishtailed along the track. He then said that the car went off and somersaulted three or four times before smashing broadside into the trees, with wreckage scattered over a 40-metre area. Clark was killed instantly.
When he died, as a two-time world champion aged 32 with 25 wins from 73 starts, the quiet Scotsman was at the very height of his powers. His talents were reckoned to be so immense that almost nothing or nobody would stop him. Clark was, in his legend, immortal.
But as a human he wasn't, and when the movable force of his Lotus-Cosworth hit the immovable object of those solid German trees at around 240kph, there was only ever going to be one terrible consequence.
