Her presence left men speechless, and she became an unforgettable icon for America’s car enthusiasts.
But who was Jungle Pam Hardy, and why is her legend still alive today?
Even though her time in drag racing lasted only four years, Jungle Pam’s name has stayed famous for almost four decades.
Jungle Pam Hardy was more than just a pretty face in 1970s drag racing. Known for her beauty and charm, Pam brought a special style to the track that fans loved just as much as the roaring engines.
In a time when drag racing was about real skill and thrilling excitement, she captured the spirit of the era. She was part of the golden age of drag racing—when drivers controlled their cars, not computers. Many believe she added a level of beauty to drag racing that no one else has matched.
Backing up the famous Jungle Jim’s race car in her signature shorts and tank top, Pam excited fans as much as the cars did back then.
**Road to Stardom**
You can’t talk about Jungle Pam without mentioning her legendary partner, Jim Liberman, the daring drag racer known as “Jungle Jim.”
Liberman, who started driving at age 12, was famous for his showmanship and was a big name in U.S. drag racing. Many still say he was the best showman on the drag strip.
Pam’s story begins in May 1972—just two weeks before she was set to graduate high school.
Liberman saw the beautiful young woman hitchhiking while driving his yellow Corvette, and that’s where it all started. Pam had plans to attend West Chester University of Pennsylvania to study business. But instead, she fell for Jim and joined him on the road.
“I ditched the college that had accepted me, and it drove my mother nuts,” she later recalled.
Touring the country together, Jim and Pam became a powerful team in the drag racing world, with his bold showmanship and her magnetic presence. Jim Liberman originally wanted Pam to position his funny car at the starting line, knowing it would grab the audience’s attention — and it certainly did.
“Well, sex sells,” Pam told *Competition Plus*. “You see it on TV all the time, but back in the ’70s, Jungle and I thought it would be worth trying, so we did. It didn’t hurt his reputation at all. In fact, more pictures were taken of his car as long as I was standing next to it.”
Pam was not only stunning but often braless, usually wearing a tank top or skimpy halter with extremely short jean shorts.
**Most Famous Figure on the Drag Strip**
Before long, she went from being unknown to becoming the most famous woman on the drag strip. Her rise was so impressive that she even appeared on the cover of *Hot Rod Magazine*, the first woman ever to do so. The cheers when Pam walked onto the track often surpassed the applause for the top drivers.
“I’m kind of amazed by all the attention,” she said in 1974.
But Pam was more than just a pretty face, as some might think. She staged the car, checked it for fluid leaks before each run, filled the block with water and eight quarts of 70W oil, packed the parachutes after every race, and helped Jim position his car after burnouts.
Her presence left men speechless, and she became an unforgettable icon for America’s motor enthusiasts.
But who was Jungle Pam Hardy, and why does her legend continue today?
Even though her time in drag racing lasted only four years, Jungle Pam’s name has remained iconic for nearly four decades.
Jungle Pam Hardy was more than just a pretty face in 1970s drag racing. Known for her charisma and beauty, she brought a unique flair to the track that captivated fans as much as the roaring engines.
In an era when drag racing was all about raw talent and excitement, Pam embodied that spirit. She was there during the golden age of drag racing—when drivers controlled their cars instead of computers. Many say she brought a kind of beauty to the sport that has never been matched.
Backing up the legendary Jungle Jim’s race car in her signature shorts and tank top, Pam thrilled fans as much as the cars did.
**Road to Stardom**
You can’t talk about Jungle Pam without mentioning her famous partner, Jim Liberman, the flamboyant drag racer known as “Jungle Jim.”
Liberman, who started driving at 12, was a huge name in U.S. drag racing. Many still believe he was the greatest showman the drag strip has ever seen.
Pam’s story began in May 1972—just two weeks before she graduated high school. Liberman spotted her hitchhiking while driving his yellow Corvette, and fate took over. Pam had plans to attend West Chester University to major in business, but instead, she fell for Jim and joined him on the road.
“I ditched the college that had accepted me, and it drove my mother nuts,” she recalled.
**A Dynamic Duo**
Touring the country together, Jim and Pam became a dynamic duo in the drag racing world, with his showmanship and her magnetic presence. Jim had Pam stage his funny car at the starting line, knowing it would grab the audience’s attention — and it did.
“Well, sex sells,” Pam told *Competition Plus*. “Back in the ’70s, Jungle and I decided together that it was worth a shot. It didn’t hurt his reputation at all, and he got more pictures of his car as long as I was standing next to it.”
Pam was not only stunning but often braless, usually wearing a tank top or skimpy halter and tiny jean shorts.
**Most Famous Figure on the Drag Strip**
Pam quickly transformed from unknown to the most famous woman on the drag strip. She even appeared on the cover of *Hot Rod Magazine*, the first woman to do so. The cheers Pam received when she stepped onto the track often outdid those for the drivers.
“I’m amazed by all the attention,” she said in 1974.
But Pam wasn’t just a pretty face. She staged the car, checked it for leaks before every run, filled it with water and oil, packed parachutes after each race, and helped Jim position the car after burnouts.
“We put on a good show,” Pam said. “It wasn’t about me. It was about us.”
Pam was described as “a stroke of genius,” and many were impressed that Jim had turned her into a true racing enthusiast, helping raise the profile of the sport and Jim’s team.
In the world of drag racing, Jim and Pam stood out. While Jim won several championships, he was best known for his vibrant personality and, of course, his stunning girlfriend.
“Our relationship was a flash in the pan, a bolt of lightning. It just worked,” Pam told *Fox Sports*.
But everything changed on September 9, 1977.
**Jim Dies**
Three days before his 32nd birthday, Jim was racing his 1972 yellow Corvette at 250 mph when he crashed into a bus.
He died instantly, and it took rescuers 45 minutes to remove his body from the wreck.
“It was my mother who called me because she didn’t want me to hear it on the news,” Pam told *CompetitionPlusTV*.
The tragic accident shook the motorsports community. Afterward, Pam made the hard decision to leave drag racing, vowing never to work with another driver again
Yet, Pam quietly dedicated herself to keeping Jim Liberman’s memory alive. She often participated in memorial events honoring her late boyfriend.
“All that showmanship was his real personality,” Pam said. “He didn’t just turn it on at the track and become normal at home. He had that flair even when we were just at the house or out somewhere. You could always feel his presence wherever he was.”
On a personal level, Pam moved on. Being a racing lover, she later married Funny Car owner Fred Frey. After their divorce, she married Bill Hodgson, who tunes George Reidnauer’s Excalibur Corvette Nostalgia Funny Car.
**The Truth Behind the Photos**
Looking through old drag racing photos from the 1970s is like stepping back in time. These pictures capture not just the loud engines and bright colors of the era but also the spirit of a community united by a passion for speed and excitement.
Jungle Pam broke new ground, showing that women could earn respect in a male-dominated sport while bringing smiles and joy to many. She had a life that just doesn’t happen anymore—a woman of undeniable class, living life on her own terms. What more could anyone ask for?
My Best Friend Married My Ex-husband — Then She Called Me in the Middle of the Night, Terrified
When Stacey married Lily’s ex-husband, Alan, it seemed like the ultimate betrayal. But a late-night call filled with terror revealed a dark secret neither woman was prepared for, forcing Lily and Stacey to confront the man who shattered both their lives.
Alan and I had been married for seven years. Seven long years that gave me two beautiful daughters, Mia (5) and Sophie (4), and left me with a heart fractured in ways I didn’t know were possible.
A couple | Source: Unsplash
At first, Alan was my dream man. He had this magnetic charm, the kind that made people lean in just a little closer when he spoke. He knew how to make me feel like I was the only woman in the world. But that glow didn’t last.
By year five, I noticed the cracks. Alan would come home late, his excuses so thin they were practically see-through. Work trips that didn’t make sense. Texts he wouldn’t let me see. Then, one night, I got the confirmation I’d been dreading. A single blonde hair on his suit jacket. Not mine.
My heart screamed with rage. I knew something was wrong. I knew he was destroying everything we built.
A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
I confronted him. His reaction? A cold denial, followed by an avalanche of gaslighting. “You’re imagining things, Lily. Stop being so insecure,” he yelled once.
But it wasn’t just my imagination. It was real. Silently, I vowed to myself that I would not let him make me doubt my instincts.
The final straw came when I caught him red-handed. The image of him with her — Kara, a woman I didn’t even know — was burned into my memory. He didn’t even apologize. He just packed a bag and left as though nothing had happened.
And just like that, Alan abandoned me and our daughters. For a year and a half, I struggled to rebuild my life. Therapy, late nights working to support the girls, and a constant ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away.
Then came the news that made my stomach churn: Alan had married Stacey, my best friend.
A newlywed couple | Source: Unsplash
I couldn’t believe it at first. Stacey had been my confidante during my marriage, the one person I told everything to. She knew everything about me… about how I felt like I was losing Alan, how I feared he was cheating, and how devastated I was when he finally left.
A painful realization cut through me, “How could she do this to me?”
When Stacey called to tell me she was engaged to Alan, I froze. “You’re kidding, right?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“No,” she said. “Alan loves me, Lily. I hope… I hope we can still be friends.”
Friends? Was she serious?
“You’re marrying the man who broke me, Stacey. And you think I want to stay friends? Good luck with that.” I hung up before she could respond.
Grayscale shot of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
I thought that was the end of it. I wanted it to be the end of it. But then, a year into their marriage, my phone rang at three in the morning, dragging me back into Alan’s world.
Groggy and annoyed, I squinted at my phone. Stacey’s name flashed on the screen. I didn’t want to believe it.
“Of all the nerve, calling me at this hour?” I muttered to myself.
I debated ignoring it. Why would she, of all people, be calling me in the middle of the night? But curiosity won out, and against my better judgment, I answered.
A phone on the bed flashing an incoming call | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” I said, my voice heavy with irritation.
What I heard next made me sit up straight.
“Lily, I need your help!” Stacey’s voice was frantic and barely coherent. “This concerns you more than you think. Please… don’t hang up. Please.”
My heart raced with anger and anticipation. What could she possibly want?
A woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Stacey?” I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess. “What’s going on? Look, I don’t have anything to—”
“Alan… he’s not who I thought he was. He’s worse, Lily. So much worse,” she cut me off.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. What could be worse than what I already know?
“Worse? What are you talking about?” I asked.
She inhaled sharply, trying to steady her voice. “He has a wardrobe in his office. He always told me not to go in there, but yesterday I did. Lily, the inside is covered in photos. Of women. Dozens of women. Me. You. Her. And others I don’t even recognize.”
An anxious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
A cold realization crept into my thoughts. This is about to get ugly.
I gripped the phone, my stomach turning. “Photos? What kind of photos?”
My mind raced with horrifying possibilities. What could be in those photos? How had I not found them? Was this why he’d prohibited me from entering his office when we were married?
“They all have dates and numbers written on them,” she whispered. “I think… I think he’s been cheating on me. On both of us. On everyone.”
A woman holding a photograph of another lady | Source: Midjourney
My throat felt dry. But I didn’t care. “Stacey, why are you telling me this? You married him. You knew what he was capable of.”
Her voice cracked. “Because I didn’t believe you! I thought you were bitter. But now, I’m scared, Lily. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out I’ve seen it. Please, can I come over? I don’t feel safe.”
Stacey showed up at my house less than an hour later, her face pale and drawn. She was clutching her phone like a lifeline.
“Start talking,” I said, crossing my arms. My eyes bore into her, demanding the full truth.
She sat on my couch, wringing her hands. “I went back into his office last night. After he left for a two-day fishing trip, I managed to break into the wardrobe. He keeps it locked. But I managed to open it with a screwdriver. It wasn’t just photos, Lily. There were journals. Notes about the women. Ratings. Scores. He’s been doing this for years.”
A frustated woman | Source: Pexels
A twisted sense of validation burned inside me. “I always knew he was worse than he seemed,” I laughed.
“How many women?” My heart raced, dreading the answer.
“At least 40 during your marriage,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “And eight more since we got married. Eight women in just two months.”
The weight of betrayal pressed down on me, threatening to suffocate. It was like a punch to the gut. I thought I had moved on, but the betrayal felt fresh and raw.
“Why are you dragging me into this?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Because he’s the father of your daughters,” Stacey said. “Don’t you want to know who he really is? What he’s capable of? Don’t you want to expose him?”
A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
Her words hit a nerve. As much as I hated Alan, I had to protect my girls. “Fine,” I said, grabbing my laptop. “Show me what you’ve got.”
For the next few hours, Stacey and I worked together, identifying the women in Alan’s photos. Reverse image searches online led us to their social media profiles. When we reached out and met some of them in person the following morning, most confirmed short, meaningless encounters with Alan.
My mind raced with horror and vindication. How could one person be so calculated?
One woman described him as “charming, until he wasn’t.” Another called him “cold and calculating.” Each story added a new layer to the monster I’d once called my husband.
A bitter laugh escaped me. “I should have known. I always knew something was off,” I told Stacey.
Two women sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
By dusk, she looked at me, her face pale. “What do we do now?”
“We’re not victims anymore. We’re survivors,” I declared. “We fight back.”
A dangerous glint entered my eyes, “Alan has no idea what’s coming,” I added.
When he returned from his fishing trip and found Stacey gone, his rage spilled over. He tried to show up at her new place, banging on the door, demanding answers. She called the police, and he left before they arrived.
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind. Stacey filed for divorce, cutting all ties with Alan. I reopened my custody case, armed with evidence of his behavior.
Alan didn’t take it well. He sent me a flurry of messages, first pleading, then threatening. I blocked him.
A woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
In court, the evidence we presented was damning. Alan’s charm couldn’t save him this time. The photos, the journals, the testimonies… every bit of it painted a clear picture of the man he truly was.
After the dust settled, Stacey and I found ourselves sitting in my living room, a quiet relief hanging between us.
“We made it through!” I said, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders
“Thank you,” Stacey said softly. “For helping me. For believing me.”
My anger softened, replaced by an unexpected understanding. We were both victims of his manipulation. But we were not weak.
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
I looked at her, the anger I’d carried for so long finally fading. “We both deserved better than him.”
A moment of shared pain and healing passed between us.
She nodded. “So… what now?”
My spirit felt renewed, ready for whatever came next. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Now, we move on. Together.”
A fierce sense of sisterhood emerged, stronger than any betrayal. And for the first time in years, I felt free. Not just from Alan, but from the pain he had caused.
Two women hugging each other | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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