Stirling Moss: A Nodding Acquaintance With Death
September, 1962
sensitive, intelligent, almost unbelievably skillful, he is wholly dedicated to a sport that has twice nearly killed himA Pretty, Pink-Cheeked English nurse pushed him into the room; he was riding a high-backed, old-fashioned--looking wheelchair, a small man, heavily muscled, laughing, slit-eyed. It was his 46th day in the hospital, and for 38 of those days he had been unconscious, or semiconscious, or in amnesia, but he was tan and he looked strong. The left side of his face was raddled with ro...
