In 1933 Myron Scott, a reporter for the Dayton Daily News, saw three boys racing homemade, engineless cars down a hill on a local street. This sight inspired Scott to organize the Soap Box Derby, a coasting race for homemade race cars. Over the next several years, the All-American Soap Box Derby grew into a national event that continues to attract thousands of competitors from across the country.

Cliff Hardesty felt his excitement building as he drank in his surroundings. He was actually here in Akron, Ohio, the home of the All-American Soap Box Derby. His eyes followed the long, smooth ribbon of the Derby Downs raceway. The 1,600-foot, cement-covered track was divided into three wide lanes. In just a few days, Cliff and his homemade car would be in one of those lanes, racing for the grand prize. Although there were more than 100 competitors in this year’s derby, only three boys could race at one time. The winner of each heat—as the three-person races were called—would go on to race the winners of other heats, until at last there was only one winner. Cliff didn’t dare dream that he would be that winner.

“This race sure has come a long way in the past six years,” a man sitting in the nearby bleachers remarked. “I was in the crowd at the very first soap box derby back in 1933. About 350 boys participated in that race. You should have seen the cars back then. Most of them were made from old crates or heavy sheets of tin. Some of them looked as if they were going to rattle apart.” He chuckled.

“In which lane did the winner race?” Cliff asked.

“Oh, this fancy track wasn’t used then. In fact, there was no track at all,” the man said. “The boys raced down a big hill. This track here was built just three years ago for the 1936 race.”

After chatting with the man a little bit more, Cliff walked up the hill to the area called Topside, where all the homemade race cars were stored and inspected. He wanted to check on his car. His family had shipped it from his home in White Plains, New York, a few days earlier. Derby guidelines stated that cars had to arrive in time for race officials to look them over and make sure they were safe.

Cliff found his car and stood back for a moment, running his eyes over it. It was a beauty. Whether he won the race or not, he knew he had done a good job.

Just then a thin man in dark glasses with a clipboard under his arm walked over to him. “Are you the boy who built this car?” The man looked down at his clipboard. “Cliff Hardesty?”

“Yes, sir,” Cliff answered with a smile.

The man did not smile back. “Cliff, my name is Mr. Smith. I’ll be very candid with you. The truth is that your car concerns me. The regulations for this event state very clearly that every car entered in the All-American Soap Box Derby must have been built by the boy who will drive it. There can be no help from anyone else.”

“Yes, sir,” Cliff said, still not certain what Mr. Smith was talking about.

Mr. Smith sighed. “Cliff, your car is one of the best we’ve ever seen. Can you honestly expect us to believe that you built it all by yourself ? No one helped you?”

Cliff ’s face grew hot as he realized what Mr. Smith was implying. “No, sir. No one helped me. I did everything according to the rules.” He looked Mr. Smith straight in the eye, but his throat felt tight with fear. Was Mr. Smith saying he might not be allowed to race? Would he be disqualified for building a good car? “Mr. Smith,” Cliff said firmly, “I built this car myself.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to need to prove that,” Mr. Smith said. “We’ve set up a 12-member committee. We’ll ask you questions about how you built your car. We have to make sure that you’ve done everything the way you’re supposed to. If you can satisfy us that your car is legitimate, you can participate in the race.”

Called in front of the committee, Cliff answered question after question about his work on the car. Somewhere in the room a clock ticked very slowly. Cliff watched the faces of the men who would decide his fate. Some of them were easy to read. Others might as well have been carved of stone. The questioning dragged on so long that Cliff began to feel dizzy. At last the committee told Cliff to get some sleep and report back in the morning.

The next morning Cliff was taken to a garage. One of the committee members asked Cliff to reproduce part of his car while they watched. Feeling almost happy, Cliff picked up the tools that had been laid out for him. Finally he would be able to prove that he had built his car. He would demonstrate to the committee members that he had complied with the race requirements and had built his car without any help. He could feel the eyes of the committee members drilling holes in him as he thought about how to begin. Then he decided to pretend he was at home in his own workshop, and he began to work. Soon he was so involved in working on the car, he forgot all about the committee.

After only half an hour, Mr. Smith called out, “O.K., Cliff. You can stop.”

Cliff looked up in alarm, but then he relaxed when he saw the smile on Mr. Smith’s face. “You’re a very resourceful young man,” Mr. Smith said. “We can all see that you’re building an even better car than the one you’ve entered in tomorrow’s race. Please accept my apologies for doubting you.”

Cliff ’s laugh burst from him like air escaping from a popped balloon. “That’s all right, sir,” he said. “But if you gentlemen will excuse me now, I need to take my car for a test run. I plan to win tomorrow’s race, and I want to be ready.”

Relieved, Cliff eagerly prepared for his test run down the 1,600-foot-long track. He was finally free to do what he had come to Akron for—race his car. As he sped down the track, the car hurtled out of control. His car was wrecked, and Cliff had to be taken to the hospital. Race officials worked all afternoon and through the night to fix Cliff’s car in the hope that he would still be able to race. They didn’t want Cliff’s hard work to have been for nothing.

The next day Cliff was released from the hospital. He was banged up but ready to participate in the race and grateful that his car had been repaired. The victory he achieved that day by winning the sixth annual All-American Soap Box Derby was proof of his talent and of the superiority of his car’s design.