REMEMBERING JOHN HARVEY
JOHN HARVEY WAS NOT ONLY A CHAMPION RACE DRIVER BUT ALSO A PIONEER OF AUSTRALIA’S FAST-CAR BUSINESS
In the wake of his death in December last year, we look back on the rich life of a true gentleman; a bloke possessed of both raw speed and ample business acumen
IT SAYS ALL you need to know about John Harvey that he raced for more than 30 years without actually owning any of the 55 race cars he estimated he drove. He had gifted hands, ones worthy of being entrusted with some of the most valuable race cars on the planet. He rewarded their owners with multiple speedway titles, a circuit racing open-wheeler championship, two sports car titles and a world championship race. And as a member of the mighty Marlboro Holden Dealer Team, he rightfully claimed his place in the pantheon of the sport by climbing to the top of the mountain, winning the Bathurst 1000 alongside his mate Peter Brock.
The fact that so many owners were prepared to hand over their cars also says much of John Harvey the man, for he was almost universally popular – not an easy task in a dog-eat-dog sport where even the smallest opportunity must be taken to eke out an advantage over your rivals. This was the tough world in which a gentle soul chose to express his gift, find his fame and carve out a living. He did it with grace and style, defying the odds to not only survive but prosper, forging a solid family unit that endured to his final day in December 2020.
They say you should never meet your heroes because the legend often fails to live up to the myth, but Harvey was just as affable and charming to strangers as he was his closest friends. When people gathered to send off this mighty warrior after his cancer-ridden lungs drew their final breath at the age of 82, the word most commonly used to describe their friend was ‘gentleman’. It’s not a common description of people these days, let alone in motorsport, but perfectly applies in this case.
It also explains why Harvey – by then adept at managing the wild excesses of ego-driven racers and hard-nosed team bosses – was so successful in his second life as a pioneer of the special vehicles business in Australia. The same pleasant, easy-going charm and quiet effectiveness that made him a valuable team driver saw him play critical roles over the course of two decades turning both Peter Brock’s HDT Special Vehicles and Tom Walkinshaw’s Holden Special Vehicles into motoring powerhouses for the Red Lion brand.
Harvey had been an HDT driver for three years when Holden unexpectedly withdrew from racing at the end of 1979 and team owner John Sheppard sold out to Brock. Holden dealers around Australia, led by Vin Keane in Adelaide, rallied around and hatched a plan for HDT to build modified street-legal Commodores that they could sell and make back the money they funnelled into the race team. Now it would be a proper dealer team.
It was an inspired plan and Harvey, with almost a decade of business experience in tyre retailing, was recruited to get the new HDT Special Vehicles business up and running. With no employees, titles hardly mattered, but the new general
This was the tough world in which a gentle soul chose to express his gift, find his fame and carve out a living
Harvey was HSV’s very first employee and remained a central figure there for almost 15 years
manager set about creating a factory, recruiting staff, liaising with Holden executives and engineers, and turning the ideas sprouting from Brock’s active imagination into showroom reality. The 160kW HDT Commodore went into production in Spring 1980 and was an immediate hit.
For seven years Harvey was Brock’s loyal lieutenant – for much of that time they were the company’s only directors – happy to play a supporting role to Holden’s star driver in a PR double-act while quietly guiding a succession of increasingly fast and sophisticated HDT street cars to fruition. His was a calming presence in a crazy atmosphere as the business soared ever closer to the sun.
It all melted down in February 1987 as Brock dragged HDT to the very brink of destruction – then wilfully pushed it over the edge by releasing the Polarizer-equipped Director without Holden’s approval. Harvey could no longer stand by his misguided friend and walked away. No final argument. No histrionics. Just a typically pragmatic yet still heartbreaking decision. One more drag on a cigarette, then he drove away to an uncertain future. “It was selfdestruction,” he said of HDT’s demise. “I told him that I worked hard to hold this thing together, but he had let the side down and was throwing away this fantastic business.”
It didn’t take Holden long to call. They were starting a new joint-venture company called Holden Special Vehicles with Walkinshaw, and Harvey was again the perfect man to set it up. Harvey was HSV’s very first employee and remained a central figure there for almost 15 years until retiring in 2001. He did everything from testing cars to liaising with dealers and customers, his amiable personality always shining through.
Mind you, even a gentleman has his limits. Gavin Harvey takes pleasure in recounting how his father once patiently endured an extended earbashing from a disgruntled customer over the phone at HSV before reaching the end of his tether and enquiring, “Do you know who you’re talking to?” The angry customer said he didn’t, so John said, “Good, then f__k off!” and hung up.
HARVEY WAS BORN in Sydney in 1938 and was introduced to speedway by his father. At just 19 he made his debut for Len Brock (no relation), in return for repairing Len’s wrecked Speedcar, and promptly won his first race. In his first full season he won the state title at the fearsome Sydney Showground. ‘Johnny’ clearly had a rare talent. For seven years he defied death and even injury while accumulating fans and titles.
Like many race drivers, Harvey enjoyed hijinks and had an eye for the girls. Usually the interest was reciprocated. One that caught his early attention was a flaming redhead he had seen around the tracks. Beverley Mackay was the 15-year-old daughter of Don Mackay, speedway royalty, but that didn’t deter the handsome young racer. Driving into the speedway one night, he tooted at her – not a winning move for we mere mortals – and chatted her up. Soon they were married, and remained so for 58 years.
But everyone knew the reality of the numbers game in the speedway bullrings. Death was all too common for the dirt-track heroes, and Harvey’s family knew his odds were shortening every day. Most of his friends died in the ‘midgets’. “I was incredibly fortunate to come through that era, as it was incredibly dangerous,” he confessed.
When Harvey’s work boss, colourful Parramatta Road car dealer Ron Phillips of Sports Car World fame, witnessed his first speedway meeting in 1964, he was horrified and encouraged him to go circuit racing instead. Phillips bought