In my teens, one of my favorite hangouts was Gotelli Speed Shop in San Bruno, Calif. The owner, “Terrible Ted,” Gotelli was an often-outspoken, no-nonsense racer and one of the sport’s best mechanics.
Gotelli, who founded Gotelli Speed Shop in 1962, began his racing career in 1955, and drove to track records at numerous Northern California tracks, but was better known as a team owner and tuner. He gave many drivers the opportunity to showcase their skills in his Gotelli Speed Shop entries. Gotelli was a contemporary of the likes of “Big Daddy” Don Garlits when drag racing was introduced to California in the 1950s, and he had lots of friends like Don Prudhomme, Connie Kalitta, and many more like another good friend of mine Andy Brizio, owner of Andy’s “Home of The Instant Tee.”
One of my favorite quotes from Ted was, “All of the guys I saw in here in the ’60s did their racing, got married, started families, and left. Now those guys are back in here on Saturdays with their kids and grandkids. That’s what’s fun for me.” It’s that same line of thought that still rings true today at NASA.
It was Ted who introduced me to the amazing world of drag racing by including me on his slingshot pit crew, and since I spent endless hours at his shop, I often found myself hanging out with him in his machine shop in the back where I would ask questions about how to make my big block Fords stronger and faster, including the 427 in my 1968 Shelby GT500.
One day I walked into his machine shop where I saw him with a stubby half-chewed cigar in one hand, and with the other he picked up an engine block and moved it to another place on the bench. I couldn’t believe my eyes. When I reached out to see how heavy the engine block was, he said, “See this ballpeen hammer? Touch the block and I’m going to break every one of your knuckles! That’s a lightweight aluminum engine I’m building for Don Prudhomme.”
I began rambling on endlessly about an engine I was attempting to build, one that would blow off anything in the Bay Area, but at the same time be a dependable street application. I know what you’re thinking, did I believe Aladdin’s lamp really worked?
Ted set down his tools, turned around, and said, “Follow me.” We walked up to the front counter where his sons Ted and Larry were working, and without taking his half-chewed cigar out of the corner of his mouth he said, “Get Ed on the phone and get this meathead out of my hair before I ring his neck.” As Ted went back to his shop, I heard Larry on the phone. “Hello, Ed. Dad wants you to talk to Gary,” and handed me the phone, “Hello Gary. This is Ed, what can I help you with?” I began trying to describe what I was attempting to build and then Ed asked, “Have you got a pencil?” and I began writing.
After a rather lengthy phone call, we said goodbye and hung up. Larry asked how it went, and I began saying, “Who in the hell is Ed? That guy is nuts! You won’t even believe the things he told me to do to my engine!”
Suddenly Larry, Ted, and some customers began cracking up, and from the looks on their faces, I knew I had stepped in something bad. Without turning around I said, “Your old man is standing right behind me, isn’t he?” As I turned around, there was Ted, who said, “Tell this meathead who Ed is,” and walked away. I felt the egg on my face when I heard, “That was Ed Iskenderian, the Camfather, the developer of Isky Cams.”
All these years later, I’m proud of the friendship I’ve shared with Ed and his brother. You never know who might be on the other end of that phone, so learn to listen and you might just end up being faster. Ed smoked those stubby cigars just like Ted and he just celebrated his 103rd birthday!
