The expanse of Franklin Street at the heart of Watkins Glen was clogged with the thick foot traffic of onlookers the entire afternoon and into the evening. The setting as the cars sat on grid for the starter's command included thousands of people clustering along the edge of the road much as spectators must have back in the day when drivers like Cunningham and Fitch drove their machines at the brink of control. The cars were lined up at the exact point of start-finish from the original race, complete with an historic marker at the side of the road (pictured below). There were tours taking laps of the old course – marked by hay bales, of course – throughout the afternoon. One featured an exquisite gathering of cars from the day's Concours d'Elegance while other participants were self-nominated but approved by event organizers. The crescendo tours were the re-enactment and tributes by the SVRA racers who descended upon the heart of The Glen village shortly before 5 p.m. to display before refiring their engines at Guerrero's command just after 6 o'clock.
Again, there was just enough imagery to spark an active imagination of what it must have meant to those witnessing the events of 1948. The streets were clogged in the manner of Mardi Gras, but here the eye candy was not other people in outrageous costumes but some of the choice cars of SVRA and the strictly authentic racers of the Historic Trans Am group.
Some of the cars that were parked curbside as if they were your daily driver are worth millions of dollars and owners graciously presented them without restriction. Parked there among a couple of hundred valuable and significant racecars was Mark Donohue's 1968 Roger Penske Sunoco Camaro Trans Am racer, recently on display at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum.
All these machines were devoured by thousands of respectful eyeballs. That's the overwhelming feature of The Glen community – the readily evident racing culture, the car culture. Here fans are more than curious; they are knowledgeable. Basic facts fail to amaze them because, for the most part, they know the history.
Conversations overheard among the onlookers strolling car-to-car included accurate details of their records and mechanical specs. Then again, perhaps none of that should be a surprise from a village whose local brewery has a picture of racing pioneer Bob Burman, a veteran of the first five Indianapolis 500s and a former world Land Speed Record holder, on the label of its pale ale.