(As posted on our Blog Page in October of 2010) This piece, originally written in 2002 (A Door Closes) and reprinted in 2003, is offered in loving memory of Phyllis Donlavey, Junie's wife of 68 years. She will be missed by many, but most especially by Junie.
In 2002, a door closed, the echo of which is still resounding in the hallowed halls of NASCAR history. On that day, we bade a sad farewell to one of our all-time greats, Junie Donlavey. I'm not at all sure that I possess enough adjectives or superlatives to impart to you my admiration and respect for Junie Donlavey, but I have to try. This warmhearted native of Richmond, Virginia is more than worthy of whatever praises I can sing here, and deserving of so much more.
Junie is an original, in every sense of the word. I tell you often that I am old, but Junie makes me look young, if one is counting years alone. Last year, when his long run came to an end, Junie was 78 years of age, and still showed up at the shop every day, just as he'd done for 53 years. I imagine that he still travels with Phyllis, his wife of 61 years, but now he doesn’t have to wait for the off-season. He can remember from first-hand experience, the beginning of NASCAR. Before Junie closed his shop last year, he was the only active car owner who had an entry in the very first Southern 500, when Darlington debuted as the first "Superspeedway" in 1950. What a shame that he didn’t have an entry in the last one on Labor Day weekend.
I'd settle in a heartbeat, just to have his memories. From Big Bill France to all those wonderful drivers of by-gone days who built the sport with their talents and sometimes with their lives, and down through the years to the present, he's known them all on a first name basis, and there is not one who doesn't honor and respect this hard working, unassuming man.
To say that Junie marched to a different drummer might be an understatement. Admittedly, he loves the sport of auto racing; he willingly spent his lifetime and all his labors within its boundaries. What has perhaps stood over the years to set him apart from all the rest of the drivers and owners is the fact that his team was not a winning one, but Junie never seemed to mind. It’s always been his contention that the joy is in the racing. The competition is the thrill, and it matters very little who wins as long as everyone has a good time. Actually, the statement that his team was not a winning one is not completely accurate. Junie's car did win a race once, at Dover, in 1981, with Jody Ridley as the pilot. He still refers to the win as embarrassing, since Ridley had been laps down, but running third, when the front- runners, Neil Bonnett and Cale Yarborough, both blew their engines, and he was suddenly an unexpected first. Junie's feelings on the win were, "That took the edge off of us winning, to tell you the truth. I understand you take a win anyway you can get it, but I didn't enjoy it."
Over the course of the years, 72 different drivers have qualified and run races for Donlavey Racing, and at least 13 of them have been named to the list of the 50 greatest drivers of NASCAR. They are, in no particular order:
Lee Roy Yarbrough
Joe Weatherly
Benny Parsons
DeWayne “Tiny” Lund
Fred Lorenzen
Bobby Isaac
Ernie Irvan
Ray Hendrick
Harry Gant
Buddy Baker
Buck Baker
David Pearson
Cale Yarborough
If anyone is wondering why 72 men (I think they were all male) chose to drive that familiar #90, it's because of the way Junie selected drivers. Being a self described, "People person", his aim was always to help others, and to that end, his drivers were almost exclusively on their way up the ladder of success or on the way down. His garage was a training ground for young talent, giving them invaluable experience and seat time, until that day when they found a more lucrative ride and bid adieu to Donlavey Racing. In similar fashion, his car was offered to several aging veterans who wanted to race just a few more times before retirement claimed them.
In strange contrast to the corporate monster that has become NASCAR, where contracts are made and broken on a daily basis, Junie's philosophy was much simpler, and borrowed from another day and time. He proudly proclaims, "I never in my life had a contract with a driver. If you're my driver and you don't want to drive for me anymore, I don't want you to have to go through a lot of problems to get out of it. You just come and tell me and you're on your way." Is it any wonder that young and old alike place this man on a much-deserved pedestal, built entirely out of respect and friendship? How does Junie express his thoughts on all that? "I've had a very good life and made enough friends for 10 lifetimes." That, my friends, should be the measure of any man, and is what makes Junie Donlavey a winner.
His friends and colleagues have not failed to recognize how much this gentle, caring man has done for them and for the entire sport. In 1998, he was awarded the STP Richard Petty Achievement Award. In 1999, Junie received the Ford Motor Company Spirit of Ford Award, the company's highest motorsports honor. Also in 1999, he was the recipient of the National Motorsports Press Association/Myers Brothers award. In 2001, Junie Donlavey became only the second person to be awarded the H. Clay Earles award from Martinsville Speedway for his dedication to the motorsports industry. The only other time this award was given was to Big Bill France, the founder of NASCAR. Excellent company to be keeping, I would say.
At the start of the 2002 season, Junie was ecstatic to have lined up something he had always dreamed about, an all-Virginia race team, with himself as owner, Rick Mast as the driver, and C.F. Sauer Co. as the sponsor. Unfortunately, fate or circumstances, call it what you will, had other plans. Driver Rick Mast developed a mystery ailment, diagnosed after months of testing as carbon monoxide poisoning, presenting symptoms such as weight loss and chronic fatigue. Sadly, Mast would retire and not return to racing. Well before the halfway point the season, Sauer announced that they were discontinuing funding for the team. Junie soon found a couple of replacement drivers, but alas, no sponsor willing to back the team that had learned to do so much with so little. Junie announced that the Pepsi 400 in Daytona would be the team’s last race, since funding was completely exhausted. Adding insult to injury, driver Ed Barrier failed to qualify for that race.
Now, I am as much of a realist as the next person, but it’s been difficult to watch the races and not see that familiar #90 among the racers. Certainly, I realize that with the progression of our sport from little dirt bullrings in the southeast to a nationwide gala tour of splendid facilities, seating more spectators than was once even thought possible, the time has to come when change will win out, and tradition will be supplanted. It happens in all walks of life, and I have witnessed my share. The sun still rises in the east, the birds are still singing and the planet is still revolving around the sun, so in that grand scheme of things the change was not earth shattering. Still, when Junie turned that key in the door for the last time, the sound you heard might have been that of a foundation beginning to crumble.
