Sometimes I think I was born in a racecar. Many times I've asked a person’s first memory of their being. Always it was an accident, a trip or punishment...something stamped on the memory.
My name is Charlie Pepper and in all my 55 years my first conscious memory was that of sitting on my father’s shoulders when I was four--and watching the start of the 1947 Indy 500. My second memory was sitting behind the steering wheel of Mauri Rose’s winning car in the same Indy 500 after the race. My father was a mechanic for that team and Rose’s Deidt FD Offy. I remember the next year Rose won the Indy 500 again.