Once a month, in a famous New York restaurant, there is a cheerful gathering of people with one main interest in common – sports cars and automotive competition. This luncheon takes place upstairs at Sardi’s on West 44th Street, and the name of the group is the Madison Avenue Sports Car Driving and Chowder Society, or more simply the “Chowderheads.”
The time-honored chowder-and-marching societies were made up of people who enjoyed a good time at seaside get-togethers over cauldrons of steaming chowder and mugs of friendly, frothy beer. Likewise, the M.A.S.C.D.C.S. has a connotation of carefree conviviality, unsullied for the most part by materialistic aims or charitable excuses for existence. Those who come to the meetings do so for fun and companionship and have no particular axe to grind. As may be gathered from the name, most of the members have some connection with what we think of as Madison Avenue, or “media.” They may be in radio, television, advertising, show business, newspapers or magazines, imported or domestic automobiles, or may just be involved – professionally or hobbywise – with sports cars and racing.
Five years ago, the idea of forming a group that could meet for lunch and talk about the mutual interest of motor sport was conceived by Kingsbury E. Moore, an advertising man and sports car race driver, and Arthur Peck, a radio executive with CBS who also announces at many races. When they approached Vincent Sardi Jr., himself a sports car enthusiast, he agreed to reserve a corner of the upstairs room at his west side establishment for King, Art and their friends. Fifty cards were mailed out to likely prospects suggesting that each bring a friend, but nobody thought much would come of the experiment. Imagine, then, the confusion that ensued when ninety-three people showed up, with no less famous a personality than Paul Whiteman being the first to arrive. A fine time was had by one and all, except the late Peter Collins, who somehow was turned away.
Flushed with success, Messrs. Moore and Peck proceeded with the formation of their club. For the sake of simplicity, and in keeping with Madison Avenue tradition, King and Art designated themselves each “Directors,” with all those who attended the first meeting being called “Members of the Board.” Those who joined after this date each received a card stating that he (or she) was “Only a Vice-President.” In no time the club had expanded so that the luncheon-meetings filled the entire second floor at Sardi’s; Vincent was happy that he had specified no meetings on theater matinee days.
For the first year, there were no dues, the cost of each advance-meeting notice being made up from a 25 cent markup on the luncheon. However, a need to control the membership list eventually led to the establishment of dues of $3.00. Both of the Directors, being friendly types, were in the habit of casually inviting more and more interested parties to join the group and would then promptly forget whom they had asked. As the room began to burst its seams, a limit of three hundred was placed on the membership, with the hope that not more than half of the faithful would show up at any given meeting. Invitations to join became more and more closely guarded.
The fortunates who were “in” received handsome membership cards bearing the club’s lighthearted insignia with the following disclaimer on the back:
Generally there is a film where two, usually on some phase of automotive competition and invariably so new that it is not been seen previously even by people close to the pulse of the industry. Frequently a new film receives its premiere at the chowder meeting, and on one occasion the gathering was treated to a preview of an hour television special by major network, complete except for commercials. At most meetings, there is a “Magazine of the Month” dis tributed free to the tables. New publications about cars, or general magazines with special automotive feature articles, are favored; usually the editor is found to be present as either a member or a guest, to be introduced and thanked by Art or King.
Despite the avowed purposes of the Club being in the non-serious vein, its meetings have their substantial side. They are usually called to order by the “non-speaking” Director, King Moore, who may make a few announcements or introductions of visiting celebrities such as Stirling Moss, Oliver Gendebien, or Duane Carter. Eventually, Art Peck gets the microphone, and leads into the program. Perhaps Alec Ulmann will have a few dozen words to say in his famous unexpurgated style on the subject of his upcoming Sebring Twelve Hour Race; a candidate for office in the Sports Car Club may put in a bid for votes; or Bill France may give the inside dope on NASCAR affairs and racing. Frequently the triumvirate of Hewlett Tredwell, Ed Krom, and Lou Figari urge attendance by one and all at some sports car rumble at the “world’s fastest gravel pit,” Bridgehampton. These announcements do serve some purpose for those who wish to keep up with current motor sports events and are too lazy to read Art Peck’s column in “Competition Press”.
After a couple of years of indoor existence, some brave soul suggested a Chowder meeting off the sacred premises of Sardi’s. The first such experiment was in the form of a pool party at the home of a brave female member, Evie Lloyd, somewhere in the vastness of New Jersey. The party was a smashing success, and the high point occurred when the most formal member, Robbie Robinow (then of Mercedes-Benz), unintentionally entered the pool in full attire.