The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Wednesday, July 17, 1996              TAG: 9607160136
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON   PAGE: 10   EDITION: FINAL 
TYPE: Cover Story 
SOURCE: BY JOHN-HENRY DOUCETTE, CORRESPONDENT 
                                            LENGTH:  147 lines

COVER STORY: BACK ON THEIR SOAP BOX AFTER AN EIGHT-YEAR ABSENCE, THE DERBY ROLLS BACK INTO VIRGINIA BEACH.

MIKE WHITAKER, 10, of Chesapeake, and Chris Morneault, 12, of Virginia Beach, sped down the hill, their helmet-covered heads the only parts of them visible as they hunched in tiny white cars.

They hit the straightaway and whizzed between barricades of hay bales.

Whitaker took the first heat of the day by 1.2 seconds.

It was official. Soap Box Derby had returned to Virginia Beach after an eight-year absence.

Not without some aggravation.

First Bertha came along, and blew the race from Saturday to Sunday.

Then there was no time clock, and the mechanical starting gates never arrived at the race site at Little Creek Naval Amphibious Base.

It took three hours for the bugs to be worked out, but it didn't matter.

They played it by ear.

Volunteers released the cars at the top of the hill, and 950 feet down the track more volunteers held stopwatches at the finish line.

When the derby died in Virginia Beach in 1988, it was due to dwindling support.

Roger Morneault, Chris' father, changed that this year.

Morneault, a 51-year-old Virginia Beach resident, spent three years of his own childhood speeding down area tracks. The derbies had been huge events then. He remembered the care he put into building his cars. Today, racers use a kit assembled in a matter of hours. In the old days, building a car took months, the craftsmanship was the difference in many a race. Cookie-cutter kits allow for less creativity.

But even if some of the mechanical aspects have gone the way of the dinosaur, the heart of the Soap Box Derby hasn't died in Morneault's eyes. He thought it seemed a shame to let it slip away.

He singlehandedly set out to bring it back. He pursued locations, sponsors and racers. He did the jobs normally handled by a management committee.

Except for the last-minute setbacks, things jelled.

A parking lot off the amphibious base course was filled Sunday morning with families fine-tuning soap box cars. The vehicles are little more than boards with wheels and a white shell-like body that screws to the floorboard. Children checked their braking system and controls.

One youngster hadn't even begun to assemble his car kit as the planned start time came and went. A pit crew of family and friends crowded around the car and built the kit in the bed of a pickup truck during the delays.

Jason A. Bell, a 14-year-old from Norfolk, decided to race because it was something new ``and you go fast down a hill.''

Bell won his car kit in a promotional contest held at Pembroke Mall, and decided to try his hand at racing. As the preliminary races neared, his life experience as a Soap Boxer consisted of two trial runs in the parking lot.

Still, he was excited. He was confident.

``I think I'll beat everybody,'' he said.

Jason's father, Kevin A. Bell, said local Soap Box Derby needs more sponsorship. He recalled the days when hundreds of cars would wait their turn to hurtle down a hill at the will of gravity and a simple steering device assembled by the driver. He said it was a shame that a family event with more than five decades of history in the area had been missing for so long.

Like the logo-spotted autos of professional racing leagues, the Soap Box cars Sunday bore sponsor stickers and lettering. The cars cost close to $400, and part of the racing process is landing backers.

Virginia Beach's Nicole E. Perry, 13, got into the racing game on short notice. She heard about the race Saturday morning after the postponement. The company her mother worked at had been contacted and offered a spot to help fill out the race. They delivered a kit.

Nicole and her mother assembled the car that afternoon.

Nicole, who ice skates and rides horses, said she was up for the competition. She proclaimed, ``I like speed.''

The amphibious ship Ashland, based at Little Creek, sponsored Eddie J. Delaney, the 9-year-old son of the ship's executive officer. Weights used to balance the car came from the ship's exercise room. Eddie and his dad built the car, and Eddie was excited that he would drive the car on behalf of the ship.

The day he found out he would get to race, he said he ``ran around the house screaming, `Yes! Yes! Yes!' ''

Then there were the Rockefeller brothers of Virginia Beach: David, 31, and Andy, 26.

With their father Bud in tow, they showed off an old time Soap Box Derby car near a van that had derby photos taped to the side. The car looked considerably different from the kit cars. The Rockefeller car was blue and streamlined, a hand-crafted work of woodworking art. A car could take eight months to put together then. The sport taught mechanics as well as competition.

The Rockefellers came to see the sport reborn locally.

They remembered the days when the races were spectacles, and a man named Ralph R. Barnes was in charge of the Soap Box chapter here. The father of two boys, Barnes was active in Scouting and got into Soap Box Derby for his sons. He was instrumental in getting a Soap Box track being built at Mount Trashmore when the park was designed.

He stayed involved for 35 years, then retired. ``People lost interest,'' said Barnes, 80. ``There was nobody to direct the league.''

Reborn Sunday, the races continued into the afternoon, and when it was over, Ben Burgoyne of Virginia Beach was the 1996 champion, after edging Jason Bell by a sheer .235 seconds in the final moments of the day.

Ben, who turned 9 the day after the competition, was the youngest and the smallest of the competitors.

Young Morneault fared well, too. He took third place, and 12-year-old Taylor Ewing of Virginia Beach landed fourth.

Barnes, with a straw hat keeping the sun off his face and silver hair, watched from a folding chair along the track.

The Sunday race may not have gone as smoothly as the old days, but at least it had happened. Barnes said, ``The area has needed a derby for a long time.''

This was a small race, admitted Morneault. The advertising for the event wasn't what it could have been. There were only eight drivers.

But you've got to count the good, he said. That's the look on a child's face when he stops his car after a good run, the accomplishment of building and racing your own car.

This race was a starting point.

The organizer said it will return next year.

``Many of the parents are already talking about next year's,'' said Morneault. ``And I'll do everything I can do to bring it back.'' MEMO: For information about getting involved in next year's derby, call

456-1111. ILLUSTRATION: [Cover, Color photo]

DERBY DAY

Photos by GARY C. KNAPP

Competitors wait at the top of the bridge on the Little Creek Naval

Amphibious Base for the official start of the Soap Box Derby. The

original course at Mount Trashmore was not used because of eight

years of neglect.

Ben Burgoyne, 9, sits in his racer as it is weighed by Gene Myer of

Cem-Corp, his sponsor. Burgoyne, the youngest of Sunday's

competitors, also became the champion.

Photos by GARY KNAPP

When the mechanical starting gates never arrived at the race site,

volunteers were called on to release the cars at the top of the

hill.

Ellie Perry, left, and Gordon Rudolph place the Soap Box racer of

Nicole Perry, 13, on the official inspection station. Nicole, who

ice skates and rides horses, said she was up for the competition.

She proclaimed, ``I like speed.''

Ben Burgoyne and his dad, Doug, left, watch as Roger Morneault

inspects the racer. Morneault, who sought locations, sponsors and

racers to bring the Soap Box back to the area, was pressed into

service as an inspector. by CNB