Chapter Twenty-Three
THE MILE
Roger Bannister became the first man to break four minutes for the mile on May 6, 1954 in Oxford, England. Ceremonies in Great Britain and elsewhere had been held on that date every year since; like the conquest of Mt. Everest in 1953, a momentous human achievement had captured the world’s admiration.
Thomas O’Malley was in a quandry–the owners of Boston’s Commonwealth Stadium had chosen this spring to renovate the entire complex, upgrade seating, locker rooms, concession spaces, and replace the grass field with artificial turf and the aging Tartan track with a state-of-the-art Mondo surface.
The usual East Regional meet would have to be scrapped this year. O’Malley’s lament, in a Boston Globe letter to the editor, elicited an unexpected response. Local financier – and former runner – Herman Justice had a solution:
Run one mile on a cinder track, like Bannister.
Herman Justice, a Boston College graduate, became the tenth American to break four minutes in the summer of 1964, part of an eight-man mass finish at the California Relays that included 18-year-old Jim Ryun. He entered Harvard Law a month later, became rich as senior partner of the Sub-Four Law Group, but never received any recognition for his running accomplishments.
“I’ll front you ten million dollars,” he told O’Malley. “We can build a cinder track, invite all the top middle-distance stars, and honor all the great American milers of the past. What do you think?”
O’Malley’s mind was stuck on the words ‘ten million dollars.’
“That’s a great plan, Mr. Justice. We have a month to get it done.”
O’Malley hired Jerzee McTolliver as his recruiter.
Within thirty-six hours, Jerzee had commitments from the best trackmen (and women) in the USA to lace up their spikes on May 6: All-expenses paid and five thousand dollars in appearance money proved to be a great inducement.
Jack Sullivan, a childhood friend of O’Malley, lived in nearby Brookline. His construction firm’s motto: We Build Anything and Do It Well.
“Can you build me a 440-yard cinder track between now and May 6th?”
“Sure, Thomas,” Sullivan said, “but it will cost you.” Friendship has its limits.
And it came to pass, as May 6th approached, Olympic hopefuls, former Olympians, and several others with solid credentials came to Boston for the All-American Mile Festival.
Every living American who had placed in the top eight of an Olympic 1500-meter final was invited to attend at Justice’s expense. The honorees went back to 1952 and Robert McMillen – arguably the most obscure Olympic silver medalist in U.S. track history – was honored. Dyrol Burleson, Jim Grelle, Rick Wolhuter, Jim Spivey, and Steve Scott were finally accorded the recognition that American journalists had failed to lavish on them in their prime. Only three-time Olympian Jim Ryun had found the spotlight in 1964, 1968, and 1972. The others had been virtually ignored.
O’Malley created a two-day extravaganza, headlined by the men’s mile race. Armando Animas and Vern Rudebusch were hired to speak at a Sub-Four Coaching Clinic on the eve of The Mile. On the schedule were mile races for women, high school girls and boys, firefighters, police, coaches, masters, and veterans.
Justice suggested watering and rolling the track after every fourth race. If Justice wants something done, O’Malley thought, he’ll have it!
* * * * *
THIS VIEW OF SPORT
By Ken Davis
Roger Bannister said he possessed “the quality of mind” necessary to be the first man to break the
the four-minute mile barrier in 1954. As last week’s All-American Mile Festival in Boston proved, lots of
Americans have that quality.
The featured race came first, a format the reverse of boxing cards, horse racing programs, and symphonic concerts. Financier and event sponsor, Herman Justice, himself a four-minute miler in 1964, filled the stands
with eighteen thousand runners, spectators, and reporters.
The track was constructed from sixty tons of cinders, 440 yards around, with a brick curb (modern tracks are four hundred meters in circumference, have aluminum curbs, and are constructed of synthetic rubber.) Heavy construction equipment kept the surface fast. For one afternoon, Boston’s Commonwealth Stadium was transformed into a venue fifty years in the past.
Ben Spangler exploded from the lead pack of nine men over the final quarter mile to win thirty thousand dollars, the largest winner’s check in a non-World Championship event.
Spangler reeled off splits of 57.5, 58.2, 58.6, and 55.0 for the fastest time ever recorded on cinders, 3:49.3.
Moroccan Hicham El Guerrouj owns the current mile world record, 3:43.13.
Justin Weiss, Neal Grady, and Chad McCann were in hot pursuit over the final lap. All cracked 3:53.
Five more standouts were under 3:56. But a group of four men, not known for their 1500-meter or mile
credentials, had the announcer and crowd abuzz, ten seconds behind the winner.
Five-thousand-meter specialist Chuck Madras organized three other longshots after they were ignored by everyone at the pre-race press conference.
“I said, ‘Let’s run a team race, stick together, share the pace, and see if we can break 4:00,’ ” Madras
recounted.
“We rotated the lead every 55 yards” Madras explained, “no man in front for more than a few
seconds, before drifting back, in lane two, a la pro cyclists in a team time trial.”
I think the lads discovered something. Steeplechase teen, Jeremy Stanfield, joined hands with Bill Szymczak, John Corbin, and Madras, crossing the finish line abreast. All clocked 3:59.6, the exact time Bannister ran in 1954.
Sarah Herrington, America’s perennial queen of the 1500, led all women with a 4:16.5, bettering Mary Slaney’s US mile record of 4:16.71, set in 1985 on a rubberized oval.
* * * * *
Coach Ron Gill read the article again and shook his head. There must be another Chuck Madras. There is no way the arrogant, selfish, Charles V. Madras he recruited from Florida, and coached for three years, would have helped another runner achieve a goal. No, the Chuck Madras he just read about had class.