THE WINDOWS OF MERCEDES-BENZ

When I was a kid, Eddie Rickenbacker was a boy’s perfect hero: prewar auto racing hero, World War I fighter pilot (America’s Ace of Aces), and postwar owner of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. However, the moment of his life that still lingers with me was November 11, 1918.

At exactly 11 a.m. on that date, the first world war ended. Against orders, Rickenbacker flew his French-made SPAD above the Western Front to watch as exhausted and bloodied German and Allied soldiers slowly climbed from their battered trenches, hesitantly intermingled, and finally embraced. He was the only aerial witness to the end of the war to end all wars.

I have been fascinated by people who had a rare view of the world ever since.

So when a certain middle-aged gentleman next to me at a function celebrating Mercedes’ racing history introduces himself (“Good to meet you. I’m Bernd Mayländer.”), I glance through his wire-framed glasses and into his eyes.

For 20 years, he’s been Formula 1’s Safety Car driver, belted in and ever-ready to roar out of the pits to slow the field and buy time for corner workers who sweep