Spectator Safety: When the Action is Too Close

Earlier this year, Michael Schumacher voiced his worries for spectator safety especially his fear a car could be launched into the crowd. At the turn of the 21st century F1 spectator safety is rarely discussed in the wider forum but remains an on-going concern behind the scenes for the sports governing body. At the turn of the 20th century it was a very different story, the safety of spectators of nascent motorsport was the number one burning issue. The risk to spectators at motor trails and races raised concerns and heated debate in governments, the Church and the media. The solutions and attitudes towards spectator safety developed then have shaped motor racing as we know it today.

Of epic length, many of the races of the late 19th century were held in France which had both an excellent network of roads and no speed limit. Held on closed public roads, the races were often sponsored by wealthy aristocrats and newspapers, and seen by the fledging automotive industry as the perfect platform to showcase their wares. The interest from the general public was immense, crowds of thousands would line the roads to watch the intriguing new machines thunder by.

In 1900 Gordon Bennett Jr, the wealthy American publisher of the New York Herald, financed the inaugural 'Gordon Bennett Trophy Race' which was held in France and organized by the ACF - the Automobile Club de France. Whilst the races had a basic list of rules there were no mandatory safety regulations and the series was marred by both competitor and spectator deaths. It was the death of spectators which caused the greatest outcry and led the French government to ban motor racing several times - each time the bans being quickly overturned as the French motor industrialists and their associates exercised their growing economic and influential power. Social commentators of the day knew automobiles were no fad and there would always be those who wanted to push them to their limits but the risk to bystanders must be kerbed; as a writer for Autocar in 1903 wrote: "It is idle to preach against racing, so long as it is conducted in a way that the life and the limbs of the participants only are endangered". Drivers were deemed to know and accept the risks - it was one of the factors that set them aside from 'normal' people and made them heroes.

In 1905 the ACF withdrew their support from the Gordon Bennett races, frustrated at the restriction to three entries when they could have fielded many more. Without the ACF's substantial support the Gordon Bennett races were discontinued in 1906. Th ACF organized a new event, open to all, the ACF Grand Prix. Held at Le Mans the race was on a 60-mile circuit of closed public roads but with the backing of local businesses pits, spectator grandstands and barricades were built for the first time. The ACF provided marshals to assist the local police - a significant move as it demonstrated the ACF's stance that spectator safety was partly their responsibility along with the State.

Fatalities continued to occur at other races held on public roads and the cries from politicians, church leaders and sections of the media for racing to be banned heightened. In 1907 the development of the first purpose built circuit, Brooklands in Great Britain, followed by the Indianapolis Speedway in the Untied Stated in 1909 appeared to be the answer. Purpose built circuits, over enclosed and shorter distances had two distinct advantages over the closed road system. Firstly spectators could be more effectively policed and specialist safety features could be installed such as safety ditches and fencing. The second advantage was spectators could be charged an entrance fee. It soon became apparent that there was money to be made from staging this sport.

When racing was sanctioned again after being halted during World War I it was apparent that drivers, spectators and promoters alike preferred the purpose built circuits and many more were built. The test of public opinion came in 1928. At the Italian Grand Prix, Emilio Materassi hit a barrier. Materassi was killed instantly, 22 spectators were killed (though some reports have this at 28) and many others injured. Unlike the media reporting that had followed spectator deaths in earlier years, there was little outcry after this tragedy. The sad events were reported with much grief but few called for motor racing to be banned as in the past. Instead the reports focused on how unusual the accident had been given the in-built safety features and the belief it was unlikely to happen again. The tragedy was seen as fate dealing a cruel hand given all the Monza circuit had done for the spectators. Purpose built circuits appeared to achieve their aim - the incidents of spectator fatalities and injuries fell - though the number of drivers' deaths and serious injuries remained high.

June 12th, 1955, Le Mans. The most prestigious event in the Sportscar calendar was held, a 24-hour demonstration of endurance of man and machine. The tragedy that would follow would change the face of international motor sport forever. At 6.30pm on the Saturday evening the Mercedes of Pierre Levagh collided with Lance Macklin's Austin Healy. Levagh's car was catapulted over an earth bank into a teeming spectator enclosure - a fiery missile which killed Levagh, 83 spectators and injured 100 more. The race continued - a fact many people find hard to reconcile but the decision was taken with the catastrophe very much in mind. Had the race been cancelled the 250,000 strong crowd, many unawares as to what had happened, would leave the circuit and block the routes to and from the circuit thereby hampering the emergency vehicles. The marshals and organizers were stretched beyond their limits. Chaos ensued as the organizers failed to realize the true scale of the accident, remember, this was a time before the intricate communications network that benefit today's events.

As news of the high loss of life spread it became apparent that this was the worst accident to befall a motor racing event. At 2am, Mercedes withdrew their cars after receiving orders direct from their Stuttgart Headquarters, to receive such instructions from the 'parent' indicated the huge impact the disaster would make. When Mercedes withdrew from all racing at the end of 1955 though they cited resources were needed for production car research the feeling resounded that the Le Mans disaster had sealed the decision.

In the immediate aftermath motor racing of all classes, including F1, was banned in France, Mexico, Spain, Switzerland - the bans eventually lifted in all the countries bar Switzerland, where motor racing remains restricted to this day. The American Automobile Association withdrew their membership of the FIA. The FIA and many of the national motoring organizations held safety inquiries as did the French Government - demonstrating that sport and civil legislation could overlap.

Even in the wake of the Le Mans tragedy the safety measures introduced to protect spectators were patchy. Many circuits restrained spectators with nothing more than roping. In 1961 tragedy struck at the Italian Grand Prix at Monza when Wolfgang Von Trips' Ferrari ploughed into the crowd after colliding with Jim Clark's Lotus-Climax. Von Trips and 14 spectators were killed in the accident. It was the worst accident to occur in Formula One. A civil case was brought in Italy but never came to fruition.

Drivers are well aware of the risk they take with their own lives but imagine the feelings they must have had at the 1970 Mexican Grand Prix. The following week, 'Motor' magazine described the event as having 'the most unruly crowd seen at a Grand Prix in years' they weren't exaggerating. Despite appeals from drivers and officials a number of fans poured over the fences and sat at the trackside as the cars sped by. Jackie Stewart retired after colliding with a dog. The FIA withdrew the Mexican GP calendar the following year. Bit the fact the race was run at all is mind-numbing. Could you imagine them running a race if we went and sat by the kerbs, kids, dogs, cool boxes et al?

In the 1960s and 70s the safety campaign was taken by the scruff of its neck by the drivers. Forming the Grand Prix Drivers' Association one of the main areas of drivers' collective concern was safety of themselves and spectators. Holding little sway with the powers that be, the drivers ultimate weapon was the threat not to race. This was precisely the threat they issued at the 1975 Spanish Grand Prix. During a photo session, Emerson Fittipaldi leaned against a stretch of Armco only for it to collapse under him. The GPDA investigated and found many stretches of the guardrails weren't fixed correctly. The drivers refused to practice and threatened not to race. The organisers counted the threat with the warning they'd impound all the race cars and team transporters. Reluctantly, the drivers backed down though Emerson Fittipaldi purposely failed to qualify and his brother, Wilson Fittipaldi and Williams driver, Arturo Merzario decided to complete one race lap and retire in protest. On the Saturday morning team mechanics went out with their own spanners and tightened as many loose bolts as they could find. On lap 25 of the race, Rolf Stommelen's Lola lost its back wing, crashed into and then vaulted the barrier. Ironically, the barrier he crashed in to had been fixed by his own mechanics the day before, and many believe had they not done so the consequences could have been even more catastrophic. Instead of deflecting a car as is its purpose it Armco, if improperly installed, can bend back and act as a ramp or allow the car underneath. Stommelen escaped with a broken leg, wrist and ribs but four people were killed - an official, a photographer and two spectators. The FIA safety survey notes the spectators were in a prohibited area but with reports they were buying drinks from a drink stand at the time it would be unfair to assume they'd knowingly trespassed.

Whether in a prohibited area or not the death of spectators was an acutely sensitive affair. The years that followed saw the introduction of gravel arrester beds, tyre barriers, run-off areas all of which have been increased in size in the wake of accidents. Many spectators have voiced concerns that they are being pushed to far from the action. Hung over the pit-straight grandstand at Estoril many moons ago seemed like a whole new world to me after British circuits - it was close, it was exciting. When a GM Vauxhall car suffered an exploding tyre smack bang in front of me I realised how 'close' the action was and spent the rest of the afternoon spitting out flecks of tyre and picking bits out my hair. The danger of debris flying into the crowd was made very real in America in 1998 and 1999 when six people were killed at two separate motor racing events. The FIA's introduction of the tethered wheel is seen as one way of lessening the risk of stray tyres though some people have raised doubts as to its effectiveness. Ricardo Zonta's testing accident at Silverstone earlier this year demonstrated all too graphically the worst case scenario - a car catapulted over the barriers. Thankfully, in this instance the driver walked away relatively unscathed and no-one else was hurt. No safety initiative is foolproof and sometimes those brought in with the best of intentions are found to have side-effects. Circuit racing, despite its obvious risks, has developed an enviable level of safety for competitors and spectators alike. Surely the biggest spectator safety worry for the FIA is in Rallying. The scenes of seemingly fatalistic fans playing 'chicken' with speeding Rally cars is petrifying and common sense would suggest a serious accident hasn't occurred thanks to luck though we all know this has a habit of running out on us. I hope it never happens, but should a serious accident involving spectators befall Rallying I wouldn't be surprised if the effects ricochets through the whole of motor sport, even if it's latent and behind the closed doors of those for whom safety in motor sports is their 24-7 mission.

© Rebecca Hobbs

(c)RH PR 2007