The Newmarket Legion Soap Box Derby

For this weekend’ article on Newmarket Today I turn my attention to an annual event which  captured the heart of the whole community for generations and in which many of us participated in our youth.  That event is the Newmarket Legion’s annual ‘Soap Box Derby.’

The Newmarket Legion ‘Soapbox Derby’ was a beloved annual event hosted by the Royal Canadian Legion Branch 426 which ran from the end of the 1940’s up to the 1980’s and typically featured participants building and racing homemade, non-motorized vehicles down Main Street hill. It was a fun but a very competitive competition that drew large crowds of spectators with the participants designing and constructing their own vehicles.  I think we all remember rumors of how some participants were alleged to have received outside help or so the stories went.

These ‘soapboxes’ were often very creative works of design and theme, offering the participants an opportunity to showcase their engineering skills, creativity, and have some childhood fun.

A few weeks ago, I solicited your stories of either participating in the race or witnessing those you knew participated in the competition and thankfully I received several responses.  Over the years I have shared a couple of stories about my entering the contest which I shall share again for those who may have missed it.

I was about twelve years old and sadly I did not realize that I had and I suspect still do not have any engineering or construction skills.  I can truly state that the car that I produced was the product of my work alone as my dad was extremely ill (soon to pass) and unable to help and my uncles were not available to help me.  My uncle George Luesby could and would have built me a winning entry, but I was reluctant to ask.

There were four contestants in my heat and as I recall, each of them had a much better design and finished product than me.  A neighborhood friend was one of those lined up beside me who lived somewhere on Queen Street west and a quick assessment told me that he was the favorite.

The prize at that time was a ‘fist full of silver dollars’ a virtual fortune to me at that time.

Well, the sad ending to my story is that my wheels fell off halfway down the hill and I escaped unscathed and proud of my attempt. I remember Mr. Hollingsworth telling me that I would ‘get them next year’ which I must admit helped.  There was no ‘next year’ for me though.

As I look back, I remember that I felt a real sense of accomplishment and pride even though the result was not what I wished for. I had tried my best, stood with my peers, and competed hard. I learned a valuable lesson, to act of attempting anything, whether you win or not, is the key to life.  One of those in the race had a cart constructed of aluminum which was obviously a ‘family product’ unless that twelve-year-old was a master welder.   

My neighbor won our heat and deep down I was pleased that ‘Mr. Aluminum’ had not won.  He would not prevail in the end, but he too had stepped forward and competed hard, which is a victory.  

I should mention that it was not until the 1970’s that girls were allowed to compete.  Good thing for the boys as we did not need additional competition.  

Terry Fish was kind enough to send me his remembrances which I share below.  Terry remembers the silver dollars, although he was not clear whether each entrant got one or just the winners or if one won a heat.   I know that I did not get one at the time.

Terry remembers the feelings of creativeness that the derby conjured up for him.  Like many local boy he would rummage through the garage and the town for parts. He recalls using baby stroller wheels, upgrading the back wheels to that of a tricycle along with axles.

He was smart enough to put a cotter pin on the axle to stop the wheels from falling off, a detail I missed.

It is interesting that Terry mentions his lack of a proper ‘machine shop’ and suggests that other entrees did.   He used ‘skipping rope’ attached by nails to either side of the board that held the front wheels on for steering.  I do not remember if I even had a steering capability.

The key, of course was to design a method to keep the cart going in a straight line.  As I think about it, I used my feet to do the steering. I think that for most people, the only brakes were their running shoes.

The key was to find a place to practice.  For Terry it was the Beechwood Crescent hill and for me it was Niagara Street hill heading down to Davis Drive.  It is a wonder I did not kill myself and it seems that both Terry and I share knee scars from ‘wiping out’. 

Kudos to Terry as he kept trying, getting increasingly serious in his future attempts. Terry remembers the rules stating that all registrants’ entries had to be self-built. 

Finally, Terry mentions a feeling of the derby making him feel like ‘Steve McQueen’ who was a famous race driver and actor of the day.

My friend and mentor, Jack West shared his memories of participating in the derby and the participation of his son Mark and his daughter Ida Mae in the 1980’s.  Mr. West won the title in 1953 and I have included a photo from the Era with this article of his victory.  He remembered getting some silver dollars and being ‘king for a day’.    In one of the oral history interviews that I was lucky enough to conduct with Mr. West he kidded that he must have cheated but he has been a skilled craftsman his whole life, so I am sure that his victory was on the ‘up and up’.

I received many comments indicating that they too had memories of participating in the derby, the wins and losses and just the thrill of competition.  Clearly, I would be justified in saying that participation in the ‘soapbox derby’ was ‘a right of passage’ for many local youths and produced ‘bragging rights’ for those who were lucky enough to win.  Alas, for those of us who lost our wheels or crashed, there were no bragging rights to be had.

So why did it end?  Like many of the activities that we enjoyed as youth, it was deemed a risky endeavor and the risk of being sued was always there. The last few years, it was necessary for the sponsors to purchase insurance and so like many of the so-called ‘risky activities of our youth’, it slowly died out.  You will remember it was replaced by a ‘plastic duck race’.  I presume that ducks do not sue.

In past articles I have spoken of the variety of ‘all season’ activities that we engaged in as youth that have passed and, in my opinion, youth is far less fun than when I was young.  Then again, that was what my grandpa used to say so maybe I am now my grandpa.  

For this article I have drawn on my own memories from my youth along with remembrances from those who sent their memories to me.  I also drew on various oral histories that I have conducted over the years and a few clippings from the Newmarket Era.

It is my hope that I have brought back some memories for you, whether you participated in the derby or were merely a spectator. We will see everyone back here next weekend.

Newmarket resident Richard MacLeod, the History Hound, has been a local historian for more than 40 years. He writes a weekly feature about our town’s history in partnership with Newmarket Today, conducts heritage lectures and walking tours of local interest, and leads local oral history interviews.