My uncle Bobby, who got me hooked on racing one night when I was not yet quite 6 years old, was never one to plan ahead, or, if he did, he never let me in on it. I remember all the years I went to races with him I never knew until a day or two before hand that we would be making the trip.

What I remember about Saturday, May 11, 1957, was that he and I were going to sit on the front porch of the grandparents home (across the street from where I lived) in the rocking chairs that had been there since I could remember. Our plan was to listen to the first convertible race from Darlington Raceway. We had been listening to the Southern 500 since 1953 in those same rockers to I was ready.

That particular Saturday, dawned cloudy and rainy. Uncle Bobby, as always, put the window up in the house and turned on the big radio to the race station (WIS I believe it was) and we waited for the race. Then, the bad news came that it was raining in Darlington and there would be no race. I walked back across the street and, as I remember, and I think I'm right about this, I settled down to read "Tom Sawyer". About 6:00 that evening, Uncle Bobby came over and talked with my Mother for a minute or two and then asked me if I wanted to go to Darlington in the morning. At the time, being a life long Methodist, I didn't think to answer "Is the Pope Catholic" but I was bouncing off the walls ready to go. Bobby said we would leave about 4:30 a.m.

Sleep? Not that night. I had been to so many races at Columbia Speedway, Newberry Speedway, Greenville Pickens and a couple other tracks I don't even remember, but Darlington was a place that existed for me on in my dreams from what I heard on the radio broadcasts and saw in the newspapers. I was dressed and ready to go at 4:00 a.m.

Bobby's green and cream colored 1954 Chevy fired up across the street and I was out the door! I settled into the passenger's seat up front, having no idea how long it was going to take to make it to Darlington but Bobby said it was about 80 miles. Back then, it was US 1 to Camden, then Highway 34, a right fork out of Camden, straight on to Darlington. The headlights of the old Chevy couldn't move fast enough to get me there.

The sun was coming up as we drove across the track at turn one and into the infield. Bobby said we would park in turn three as that is where the action seemed to happen in the Southern 500s we had listened to. I really didn't care where we parked. I was speechless looking at that huge track, paved, and seeing all the campfire smoke and charcoal smoke filling the air. Lots of folks were camping. We claimed our spot in turn three and I immediately got my chair and got against the fence. Uncle Bobby said it was hours til race time and he wanted to walk around.

We walked over behind the pits and I saw all those cars being lined up. I saw drivers sitting on the pit wall, drivers walking by and then Lee Petty, who was my uncle's favorite walked right in front of us. I simply could not believe I was at Darlington. Later in the morning, they started to line the cars up on the track, three abreast, and all the cars seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. Quite different, I thought, than the cars I had been watching on the dirt tracks.

Finally we walked back to our spot, and got some cold drinks out of the small ice chest we had and got the bag of chips and the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. My mother made the sandwiches and said we had to have peanut butter and jelly because that wouldn't spoil and she was worried about it being hot there.

The sounds of the track announcer seemed to echo from all angles and it was difficult to understand exactly what was being said, but it was obvious that the drivers were getting into their cars. I pulled my chair up against the fence and prepared to watch my first Darlington race.

I heard the cars fire up on the front straight! What a sound that was. I had never heard anything like it in my life. I began to shake all over from excitement and I stood up against the fence and held on, looking back towards turn two (now four). I'm not sure if the ground was really shaking or if it was just my excitement as the rumble of the cars got closer. I couldn't see them yet, but I could feel the electricity of 27 cars headed my way.

Suddenly, the sun was dancing off the front bumpers of Paul Goldsmith, Joe Weatherly and Curtis Turner's front bumpers and windshields. I could see the cars! It seemed like it took hours for the pace car to pass in front of me and then the race cars. I could see the faces of all the drivers as they got ready to race. I was fascinated beyond anything I could ever have imagined.

After a couple pace laps, the green was dropped and the sound coming across the infield was intensified a hundred times over what it was. Here they came! I was totally unprepared for what I saw when those cars flashed by me in blinding lighting speed. I have the records of who was leading an all that, but if I had to recall that first lap from memory, all I could tell you is that Curtis Turner was out front but was battling three or four other cars as they entered that third turn right up against that metal guard rail.

You can go to the Forum Posts and read my Racing History Minute for the outcome of the race but let me tell you that if I had not already been totally hooked on stock car racing, which I was, that first trip to Darlington sealed the fate. Even as I look back now, 56 years later, I can still see the sun dancing on the chrome bumpers of those beautiful cars. I can see Fireball Roberts handling that Ford like it was on rails. For many years, that third turn fence was my place to view the Darlington races. I saw so great battles going into that third turn back in the day. I saw wrecks I wish I hadn't seen, and at the Southern 500 in 1957 I saw a driver killed right before my eyes. I've been to most all the tracks in the Southeast, many, many times, and even ventured into the North for a race or two, but there is no place for me like Darlington. Never will be another track like that.

Thanks for reading. These are my personal memories of that first Darlington experience. As I said, read the Racing History Minute in the Forum Post for May 12, 1957, for the race recap.

Honor the past, embrace the present, dream for the future