We can accept that the automotive industry is rather mundane when compared to the drama of the entertainment industry, the scandals of Wall Street and the mistakes of professional athletes. Cars and car people very rarely make headline news on the New York Post or become the basis of a Law & Order episode, not since the departure of John Z. De Lorean from the scene.
When a tragedy or scandal involving a well-known individual arises, such as Dale Earnhardt's death or the Ford/Firestone incident, it captures the attention of the newsroom. However, most of the time the press does not cover the antics of celebrities and corporate executives such as Whitney Houston, Martha Stewart, Lizzie Grubman, Snoop Dogg, Tonya Harding, and Mike Tyson. Occasionally, an old, strange mystery resurfaces, like the rumor in the 1980s that Lotus founder Colin Chapman had abandoned his business and disappeared, possibly to Argentina in order to join Adolf Hitler.
Fred Jones, a former San Jose, California police officer, has recently put together an intriguing dossier that suggests the possibility that Ken Miles, a renowned race driver, might have survived his reported fatal crash at Riverside on August 17, 1966 and been living in a forsaken school bus in rural Wisconsin. Although this mini-mystery might capture the attention of auto enthusiasts, it is unlikely to pique the interest of Dick Wolf and his L &O scriptwriters.
In 1952, Miles, an Englishman who had moved to California, achieved notoriety first as a sports-car racer and builder, and then as the main development driver for Carroll Shelby. By all accounts, Miles met his demise when his Ford J-car prototype crashed during a private test. Although the racing world was regretful for the passing of the "Hawk," a man known for his humor, sarcasm, and directness, he eventually faded into obscurity until the late '80s when Jones was told by a fan researching Miles and the J-car that there were two death certificates listed in the Riverside County archives.
Jones's research uncovered a few individuals who claimed to have seen Miles breathing when he was placed in the ambulance, even though he had sustained major head trauma. Additionally, other people were adamant that he had been deceased, and even suggested he had been beheaded.
In the late 1980s, Jones decided to leave his job as a police officer and made his home in Pebble Beach. There, he had gathered an extensive group of Cobras and Ford racing vehicles. He went east a number of times and encountered Ken Miles in the small town of Scandinavia, Wisconsin. He discovered him in a condition of destitution, hindered by physical wounds and reliant on crutches, getting by by fixing lawnmowers.
Jones remembers him as being reserved and unassuming, with his neighbors referring to him as the "ex-race driver." His English was decent, though he had trouble with his memory, but was well-versed in Cobras and Shelby American. What surprised Jones the most, however, was his driving ability. He piloted a dilapidated Ford Torino with a proficiency that was remarkable.
However, there were inconsistencies. According to Jones, "Examining pictures of Miles, the ear lobes weren't the same. That's a reliable method for recognizing an individual and very hard to change."
The main query was why did Ken Miles, a successful racer, end up in the far reaches of Wisconsin, even if he lived through the disastrous crash at Riverside? "He claimed Ford gave him a couple of million dollars to vanish," Jones recollects. "They didn't want a badly injured survivor of one of their vehicle accidents to be exposed. After shifting to Hawaii, he said his wife, Mollie, and son, Peter, became estranged and took his money." Jones tried to get some clarity from Carroll Shelby, who, when he was asked about Miles at the Monterey Historics, is said to have dropped his plate of food in surprise and declined to talk about it. Phil Remington, Shelby's associate during the Cobra battles, firmly declared that Miles had been killed, along with Shelby driver Bob Bondurant.
Jones has years of experience as a police officer, and he believes that people have a sort of intuition when they are attempting to conceal something. His opinion is that there was an effort to hide something.
Jones had his qualms about this man possibly being Ken Miles. "The shape of the ear lobes raised doubts, as did his wearing the watch on his opposite hand in comparison to the real Ken Miles. The lack of an English accent and his forgetfulness made me pause. Yet, this individual was not a fraud. I'm not completely sure, however the something about him indicated that he was the real deal."
In the early 1990's after Jones' investigation, a man bearing the name Kenneth Henry Miles and with a son Kyle born in 1977 was known to have moved to the address 14341 Creosote Road in Gulfport, Mississippi. Historians are in agreement that he was born on November 1, 1918 in Sutton Coldfield, England. If he is still around, he would now be 84 years old. When Jones and others saw him last, his physical condition was not optimal. It can be assumed that his health is not good.
Those knowledgeable of the situation tend to believe Miles No.2 is, or was, a hoaxer. However, the puzzle is intriguing for two reasons: Why didn't this individual come out of hiding after so many years to take his spot in the motorsports world? Secondly, why would someone borrow the identity of a person not widely known outside of racing and then fail to capitalize on it while living in obscurity?
It is unfortunate that the investigation has gone nowhere, and the only hope for a resolution may be to find DNA evidence from Kyle, the man's son, to confirm or refute his identity.
The only thing that remains is a minor curiosity, which will only be a minor detail in the grand narrative of Shelby American and its iconic creator.