Every Labor Day my thoughts run back to 1957 and my first Southern 500 to see. Prior to that race, I would sit on the shady front porch of my uncle Bobby's house and listen to the race on the radio. Uncle Bobby had gotten me involved in stock car racing when I hadn't even quite turned 6. Half mile tracks like Columbia Speedway and quarter mile tracks like Newberry, and a few others thrown in here and there. Uncle Bobby loved racing and still, although he is basically disabled these days, will still watch when he can and he will be the first one to let you know all the things NASCAR is doing that really irk him. In reality, it should be against Federal Law for NASCAR to cause cruel and unjust punishment to an old man who cared so much for the sport.
My uncle Bobby had taken me to the spring convertible race at Darlington in 1957 and even today I can recall the awe that overcame me at that first view of the huge track (remember the date) in the early morning South Carolina mist of spring. Watching the convertibles race on that track at what I then considered to be impossible speeds remains fresh in my mind as if it were yesterday. So, when Uncle Bobby said we were going to the Southern 500 (a little tidbit of information he withheld from me until Sunday afternoon before the race) I couldn't even sleep Sunday night. Very early Monday morning we traveled US 1 to Camden, then Highway 34 over to Darlington (there were no interstate highways then) and we entered the infield as the sun was coming up. Pulling up next the infield fence in turn three I jumped out and ran to the fence to claim my spot. Didn't matter that I could only see the cars for a few brief seconds as they flew by me, I wanted to be as close as possible to the track.
Even though the race started at 11:00 a.m., I think, if memory doesn't fail me completely, it seemed like an eternity until I heard the "most famous words in auto racing" come from across the infield and the throaty engines came to life. I pressed against that fence waiting to see the cars coming down the back straight behind the pace car. Even today I can't tell you if the ground was actually shaking beneath my feet from the cars or if my excitement was making my entire body tingle, but I was ready for that race to get started.
After a couple pace laps, I could hear the engines go to full speed across the infield and pressed even closer to the fence. Here they came! Full speed. Grains of sand swirled into my eyes as the multi-colored blurs flew in front of me. Little did I realize at that time that the Southern 500 would become such a part of my life that for the next forty plus years my Labor Day weekends would be spent at Darlington.
Somewhere around Lap 25 or so, there was a very bad crash right in front of me. That crash took the life of Bobby Myers, although I did not know it at the time. I have always had the ability for some reason to block bad things from my memory. I had actually never had flashbacks of that crash but I did see it on at Southern 500 dvd about ayear ago and the flashback was incredible. When I saw that accident on dvd I actually felt as if I was experiencing the actual event all over again. Even though I was watching the dvd in air conditioning, the heat of the Darlington infield and the wire fence cutting into my fingers were very real to me. The dvd didn't accurately reflect my then refreshed memories of that accident.
Bobby Myers was the first fatality I had actually witnessed in racing and although I successfully blocked that crash from my mind all those years, I have no problem recalling it now. I have no problem recalling all those faces of drivers lost over the years since 1957. Racing is a cruel sport, at times, but the wonderful memories seem to temper the cruelty to an extent.
So, this Labor Day morning, as I look out of my window, I see the South Carolina sun shinging brightly although the forecast is for rain later today from the storm that has drenched Atlanta and moved the race to Tuesday as they are saying now. There is no Jerry Lewis MDA telethon on tv today and the very poor attempt of MDA to present an alternative for six hours last night only helps to enhance the mood of times lost to "progress" or whatever term you wish to apply to the loss of things that once were. Things that once were important to me and to so many others. Time moves on. Things that made us happy growing up are supposed to transposes into things that make us happy now. Wonder why it doesn't always work that way.
Rest in Peace Bobby Myers. I'm sure you are. I'm sure you often wonder what happened to YOUR kind of racing where the drivers were real and the cars were real. Whether or not the safety advancements of today would have saved your life in that crash are to be disputed for that was a violent crash. But that is supposition and for all to wonder. What matters is that you, and so many of your generation, built a sport that became an obssessoin to so many fans like me. Thank you.
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What a change! It's been awhile since I've checked in and I'm quite surprised. It may take me awhile to figure it our but first look it's really great.
updated by @tim-leeming: 12/05/16 04:02:07PM
