The track actually dates back to the late 1950s when a local car club( which included eventual Pro Stock legend Lee Edwards) spearheaded the effort to construct the drag strip not too long after the dawn of organized drag racing began to sweep the nation. A few years later, however, the car club that was instrumental in building the track had given up on the prospects of its profitability, and the facility had even changed hands before it eventually went into foreclosure. The fate of the track took an eventful turn in 1962, when a local businessman and farmer named Roger Curtis strolled into the local bank seeking a loan for a hay bailer, for which he was promptly approved, and just for good measure, was also talked into buying the drag strip!

“ George Beard was the president of Second Bank and Trust, and he knew that my dad was a gearhead, so he says,‘ Roger, have I got a deal for you!’” commented Curtis’ s daughter, Joy Anderson, who was born the same year her father bought Sumerduck Dragway.“ Of course, then Dad had to go home and break the news to my mother that he not only acquired a hay bailer loan, but had also bought a race track,” laughed Anderson. Curtis’ s

wife, Mary Francis, was indeed shocked at this news, as well as a little apprehensive, but dedicated herself nonetheless to the success of the drag strip. She immediately began working at the front gate, maintaining her post every single weekend from 1962 until 2016. At age 81, her health has finally prevented her from returning to the track to greet racers and fans for the first time in 55 years.“ We knew she wasn’ t feeling well when she elected to not return this season,” said Anderson.

From the very beginning, the Curtis family was successful in the track’ s operation, and Roger enjoyed

the facility to the fullest from a car lover’ s perspective. He was also famous for keeping those around him amused with his unique antics. Oftentimes, Roger would be racing his footbrake car at Sumerduck and after making a pass, he’ d quietly go right out the bottom gate and drive up to the farm and start mowing the grass! Meanwhile, back at the track they’ d be ready to run the next round of Modified and realize they were one car short. Pretty soon, they’ d all be asking,“ Where’ s Roger?” Someone would have to call down to the farm and get word to Roger that they were waiting on him.“ He kinda had his own way of doing things,” laughed Roger’ s son-in-law,

Mike Anderson.

Another well-known fact about Roger was his love of Mopars. He even owned a Chrysler / Plymouth dealership in the town of Culpepper at the same time he bought the race track.“ Dad had access to all those Hemi cars, and he developed a real love for them,” remembered Joy.

Among my favorite legendary tales pertaining to Roger Curtis was the one that proved he had all his“ ducks” in a row... if you’ ll pardon the pun. Here’ s how the story goes: A number of years ago, some folks moved down from Fairfax and seemed intent on getting the drag

strip closed, seeing as how they disapproved of the noise. Roger was keenly aware that the drag strip had been“ grandfathered in” when it came to various ordinances and zoning, and he was certain that such an attempt to close the track would be futile. Well, it just so happened that Roger was doing some trading one day at the local country store in Sumerduck when in walks a clipboard-toting stranger who began soliciting signatures to shut down the drag strip. It must have been awkward when the man approached Roger, who defiantly introduced himself as the drag strip’ s owner. With a heaping helping of conviction in his voice, Roger said,

“ You’ ll go to court and you’ ll lose!” The stranger sheepishly turned and headed for the door and no mention of closing the track was ever again heard around these parts.

You’ ve probably noticed by now that I passionately write of Roger Curtis in the past tense. I regret I never met him, but I sure think I’ d have liked him. Roger died in 2006, the result of a highway accident. He was a youthful 70 years old. At the time of his ultimately death, he still enjoyed the sport of drag racing, operating the race track, and of course, continued to drive people crazy with his disappearing act to the farm in the middle of a race. People who knew him best agreed he was one of a kind. Before they laid him to rest in the local cemetery, the entire funeral procession was instructed to follow the hearse right down the entire eighth-mile Sumerduck Dragway so they could honor Roger with one last pass.

Following his unexpected departure, daughter Joy and her husband, Mike, stepped up and took over operating Sumerduck. After all, this folksy drag strip represents some of Joy’ s earliest childhood memories, a chapter of her life she wasn’ t ready to close. She told me many stories that were passed down from her father; stories about flagmen positioned at the finish line, and how a ruckus would ensue if they ever raised their flags in victory at the same time. She spoke of the little creek that used to flow directly behind the track and how they’ d dip water from it for the burnout box.

The more stories Joy told, the more I realized this was the quintessential backwoods drag strip. Heck, If Norman Rockwell had ever wanted to paint a portrait of what 1960s gearhead life might have looked like in small-town America, he’ d have probably used Sumerduck Dragway as his reference material. And so it goes, racers around northern Virginia still gather weekly to“ Try their luck at the Duck”, which is, of course, a catchy slogan dreamed up by none other than Roger Curtis. DI