A Special Uncle, A Special Speedway, and A Special Life

It was August or September, 1952, not exactly an easy date for an almost six year old to remember, although the impact it had on my life should have made it another one of those days that  will “live in infamy”.  My mother was pregnant with my soon-to-be second brother and my other brother was in the latter stages of the “terrible twos”. It was not a small wonder then that my mother agreed  I could accompany her 15 year old brother and her father to a place called Columbia Speedway.   She always told the story about how, out of all the toys I had as a small child, it was the little car I always played with.  No teddy bear, no rattles, no anything else but that little car.   So it was, on that warm summer evening, we entered the gates of that race track located on The Charleston Highway in Cayce, South Carolina.