One morning next week, at the drop of the starter's green flag, some 80 crash-helmeted drivers will break into a dash across the concrete runway of an abandoned airfield and pile into their sports cars. The whining racket of racing engines will shatter the Sabbath, and the little (pop. 5,000) town of Sebring, Fla. will come alive to the excitement of the fifth annual Florida International Twelve-Hour Grand Prix of Endurance.
No other auto race in the U.S. quite compares to the Sebring grind. It is the only American competition that counts toward the World Sports Car Championship. Sebring's 5.2 miles of...