‘The race that got lost': In 1960, Fidel Castro turns to Lake Park man to stage F1 event

As difficult as it was to gain control of Cuba in the late 1950s, Fidel Castro now faced a new set of challenges, one being how to maintain the island’s lucrative tourist industry. To paint the picture he desired for the rest of the world, he would welcome the globe’s best drivers back to the island primarily to race, but also to erase the memory of the prior Grand Prix event in Havana.

Pulling this off required the help of someone with the experience to dodge the pitfalls previous organizers could not.

It required Ken D. Coleman of Lake Park.

“He was the race authority in Florida,” said Ken R. Coleman, 76, his son and current Palm Beach Gardens resident. “If you wanted to know about racing and know about events, and putting them together, he was the guy to talk to.”

The elder Coleman died at age 89 in 2001. His son carries on memories of what it was like to be a 13-year-old boy missing school time so he could tag along with his father as he laid out a vision for the 1960 “Havana Speed Week” to Castro and his Cabinet in their bunker — the basement of the Havana Hilton, which doubled as race headquarters. This was less than two years after the prior Cuban Grand Prix, a tragic and embarrassing affair that left at least seven spectators dead, an untold number injured, and world champion Juan Manuel Fangio kidnapped (but quickly released unharmed) by Castro supporters.

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In time, of course, the world would recognize Castro for what he was. But for a brief time after seizing command of the island, he wanted good PR on his side. And the spotlight of Formula One racing was good PR.

"There was a lot of excitement ahead of Havana," the younger Coleman said. "They were going to get the nightclubs back, get the international community back and tell them, 'It's OK now.' "

‘The most fantastic event of his life'

The pressure was on Coleman and he delivered, putting on the “Gran Premio Libertad,” also known as the Cuban Grand Prix, on Feb. 28, 1960. It was a championship event that attracted all of the top Formula One teams and legendary drivers including Carroll Shelby and Stirling Moss, the eventual winner.

“I think he would say it probably was the most fantastic event of his life, from the standpoint of everything you ever wanted was there,” Coleman said. “I think it was a little depressing that after the event, with Cuba shutting its doors, nothing ever came of it. So it was a range of disappointment and just feeling sad that everything you did and the exposure you had — all that stuff just never went anywhere.”

Considering the magnitude of his father’s event, Coleman finds it ironic that so little evidence that the race ever existed remains.

“It’s kind of the interesting mystery of sports-car racing: the race that got lost,” he said. “The race that nobody remembers and yet everybody in the sports-car world was there. It’s like part of a time warp.”

The unexpected race to get cars out of Cuba — or lose them

The cordial, diplomatic meetings in the hotel basement with the Castro regime were in no way a harbinger of things to come, as the world soon learned. Shortly after the race, Castro issued an ultimatum: Whatever was in Cuba after a certain date, he could claim as his own. Race cars included.

Racing to the checkered flag, drivers and teams realized, was nothing like the race to get their cars out in time. Virtually the only way to do it was via a ferry from Havana to West Palm Beach. With the ferry making only two or three more trips before the harbor closed, teams sacrificed their civilian vehicles for the sake of race cars. Coleman estimated 20% of the vehicles never made it out, but there is no way to know for certain how many were confiscated or where they are today.

One thing that is certain: With the embargo in place and the military running the port, “You couldn’t get anything on a boat,” Coleman said.

According to an account in the Shreveport Journal, the elder Coleman’s involvement could be traced to a distress call Cuban race officials put out the day before the 1958 Havana Grand Prix when they discovered they lacked experienced timers. Coleman and two others were “hustled onto a midnight plane to Havana to help rescue the Cuban officials from their dilemma,” the paper reported.

Ken Coleman spent a lifetime in racing

Coleman was a logical choice. His experience in the sport dated to 1931. He was an official with the Southeast chapter of the Sports Car Club of America. In the 1950s, he began organizing small races, working his way up to staging events at Sebring and Miami. He raced himself. He was a race photographer.

Cuba was in too much political turmoil for a third annual race to occur in 1959, but Coleman answered the regime’s call for 1960. The two prior Cuban Grand Prix races were on Havana’s famous Malecon, a boulevard with an abundance of scenery but no crowd control. When Cuban driver Armando Garcia Cifuentes hit an oil slick and lost control of his Ferrari at an estimated 110 mph during the 1958 race, there was nothing to restrain the car from smashing into spectators and causing fatalities.

Coleman moved the race to a military airport in suburban Havana, laying out a 3.11-mile course, over which drivers would cover 65 laps or about 202 miles. During the six-month planning lead-up, the younger Ken Coleman encountered Castro.

“I met him on two occasions,” he said. “One was when they (Cabinet members) all went down into this basement. They had food, they had drink, they had cigars. It was a fraternal-type thing. They met with race officials. My dad was pretty cool; he invited me to a lot of this stuff. Castro was very familiar with racing. I remember him as being very cordial. I felt very comfortable with all these guys. He presented himself in a very diplomatic way.”

For a teenage boy visiting Cuba at that time, life was not bad.

“In Cuba, kids are treated like adults,” he said. “You could go to the Copacabana. There were no restrictions. Many times you’d find kids at adult entertainment. You could do anything. You could have a drink if you wanted.”

Race was a success, even if it didn't satisfy Castro's goal

The race went off without a hitch, with Moss driving his Maserati to victory. It drew a large crowd, although it may not have fulfilled Castro’s PR goal.

“If it was a failure, it was a failure because it didn’t have any publicity in the international community,” Coleman said.

The elder Coleman managed the victorious Porsche team at Sebring in 1960. He died on July 31, 2001, after a brief illness, leaving behind his wife of 55 years, Roberta, who died at age 99, one day after the 19th anniversary of her husband’s passing. Away from racing, Coleman ran for justice of the peace in 1952 but lost by 118 votes.

The younger Coleman, who attended the inaugural Miami Grand Prix last year, believes his father was in the right place at the right time for the sport he loved.

“He was in his heyday,” his son said. “He met all the top drivers in the world at the time. It’s a breed of men that doesn’t exist anymore. The racing world is guys that come and go and it’s all dominated by manufacturing and big money. But this was a time of the real guys that were in racing, the real racing community of legends.

“That’s what my dad loved about it.”

Reporter Hal Habib can be reached at hhabib@pbpost.com and followed on Twitter @gunnerhal.