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 husband was determined to poison the raccoons that kept invading our backyard, but what they pulled from our trash left me completely shocked
“I’m telling you, we need better locks for the cans,” I suggested one morning as Kyle angrily watched me scoop up the scattered garbage. “Maybe some chicken wire around the garden too. My sister Jane says that worked for them.”
“I don’t care what your sister says. What we need is to get rid of them. Permanently.”
I remembered when we first met, how his spontaneity had seemed charming. Now, at forty, that impulsiveness had morphed into an iron-fisted need to control everything, including me.
“Kyle, please. Can’t we try the peaceful way first?”
He jabbed a finger at me. “You always do this, Josie. Always trying to make everything complicated when there’s a simple solution right in front of us.”
“Simple doesn’t always mean right.”
He slammed the broom against the side of the house. “What was that?”
I flinched. “Nothing. I’ll look into better trash cans today.”
That weekend, I found Kyle in the garage, assembling something metallic.
“What’s that?” I asked, though I already knew. Animal traps.
He didn’t look up. “Insurance. These smart traps will catch anything that comes near our trash.”
“Kyle, please. They could hurt them.”
He slammed down his screwdriver. “That’s the point! I’m so sick of you defending these disease-carrying vermin. You act like they’re some kind of pets.”
“They’re not pets, but they don’t deserve to suffer. Maybe if we just—”
“Maybe if we just what, Josie? Let them take over? Build them a guest house while we’re at it? I’ve had it with your bleeding heart routine.”
I felt tears welling up but forced them back. “Why does everything have to be solved with violence? They’re just hungry animals, Kyle.”
He stood up, his face red. “You want to know what I think? I think you care more about these pests than our home. Than me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? Every time I try to solve a problem, you fight me. The raccoons, the neighbor’s dog that keeps barking all night, even that group of teens that hangs out by our fence.”
“Those are all living beings, Kyle. Not problems to be ‘solved.’”
“This is my house!” he yelled, making me jump. “I work every day to pay for it, to keep it nice, and I’m not going to let some animals destroy it while my stupid wife takes their side!”
When the raccoons started showing up again this spring, Kyle completely lost it.
That evening, I was folding laundry when he stormed in, waving a piece of paper and grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“You’ll never guess what I found at the hardware store. Industrial-grade pest control. Guaranteed to solve our little problem.”
I took the paper. It was a receipt for animal traps and some kind of poison. My hands started trembling.
“Kyle, you can’t be serious. That stuff could kill them!”
He snatched the receipt back. “That’s the point, Josie. God, sometimes I think you’re being dense on purpose.”
“But what if neighborhood cats get into it? Or someone’s dog? We could get in trouble.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “I’ve made up my mind. The raccoons are gone by the end of the week, one way or another.”
I spent that night tossing and turning, my mind racing. When did the man I married become someone who could so casually talk about killing innocent creatures?
I thought about calling Jane, but I already knew what she’d say. She’d never liked Kyle and always said there was something off about him. Maybe I should have listened.
The breaking point came on a quiet Tuesday night two days later. I was reading in bed when I heard rustling outside. Peering through the window, I saw one of the trash cans had been knocked over again.
I slipped on my robe and grabbed a flashlight. As I approached the mess, something caught my eye. It was a black garbage bag, partially open, with something moving inside.
My hands trembled as I reached for it. “Oh no. No, no, no…”
Inside were three tiny raccoon babies, barely old enough to open their eyes. They were squirming weakly.
“Kyle!” I screamed, cradling the bag close. “Kyle, get out here right now!”
He appeared on the porch, looking annoyed. “What are you yelling about? It’s the middle of the night, you crazy woman!”
“Did you do this?” I held up the bag. “Did you throw away baby animals like they were garbage?”
He shrugged. “They’re pests. I’m handling it.”
“Handling it? They’ll die!”
“That’s the point, Josie. Jesus, why are you so naive? They’re just raccoons!”
“Just raccoons? They’re babies, Kyle! Living, breathing creatures that feel pain and fear. How would you feel if someone threw you away to die?”
He laughed, a cold sound that made me shiver. “Now you’re comparing me to a raccoon? How dare you, Josie?”
“I’m comparing you to someone with empathy, and you’re coming up short.”
Kyle stepped closer, his voice a chilling growl that made my blood run cold. “You know what your problem is? You’re soft. Always have been. The world isn’t some fairy tale where we all just get along. Sometimes you have to be tough.”
“Tough? There’s nothing tough about hurting something weaker than you. That’s just cruel.”
I looked at him and wondered how I’d never seen the cruelty that had always been there.
The next morning, I called every wildlife rescue in the area until I found one that could help. A kind woman named Marla showed me how to feed the raccoon kits with a tiny bottle.
“You’re doing great,” she assured me, watching as I cradled the smallest one. “They’re lucky you found them when you did.”
As I watched the kit suckle eagerly, tears rolled down my cheeks. “I just don’t understand how someone could be so cruel.”
Marla squeezed my shoulder. “Sometimes the animals we save end up saving us too.”
That evening, I found Kyle’s journal and a detailed plan for dealing with the “raccoon infestation.” It included poison locations, trap placements, and even a schedule. The methodical cruelty of it made me sick.
When Jane arrived, she saw the journal in my hands.
“Still think I’m overreacting?” I asked, showing her the pages.
She shook her head. “Josie, this isn’t about raccoons anymore. Maybe it never was.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I think I’ve always known.”
The divorce papers were served a week later. Kyle didn’t seem surprised, just angry. As always.
“You’re really throwing me out over some pests?” he spat as he packed his things into boxes.
I stood my ground in the doorway of what was now my house alone. “No, Kyle. I’m ending this because of who you’ve become. Who you’ve always been, maybe, and I just didn’t want to see it.”
Days turned into weeks. The raccoon kits grew stronger.
The smallest one was shy and always hid behind his siblings. The middle one was curious about everything. And the biggest was protective, always watching out for the others.
Marla helped me release them back into the wild when they were ready. As we watched them toddle toward the treeline, I saw movement in the bushes. There, watching us, was their mother.
“Look,” Marla whispered. “She came back for them.”
The mother raccoon chittered softly, and her babies ran to her. Before disappearing into the forest, she turned and looked right at me. In that instance, I felt a connection to something larger than myself. Compassion.
“You know,” Marla said, “there’s an opening at the rescue center if you’re interested. We could use someone with your kindness.”
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years. “I’d like that.”
“You know, Josie, you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. They’re like a mirror that reflects our true selves.”
Looking back, I realized the raccoons hadn’t just been victims of Kyle’s cruelty. They’d been my wake-up call. Sometimes it takes seeing someone else’s vulnerability to recognize your own.
As the raccoons disappeared into the trees, I took a deep breath and felt ready for a fresh start. I knew I deserved better, and that someday, I’d find the right person who saw the world with the same compassion I did.
Leave a Reply