1. I rode in her lap all the way from Rochester, New York to Columbia, South Carolina in the front seat of a 1937 Plymouth Coupe. (May have been a '36 Plymouth Coupe, I just can't recall).  She said I was carsick all the way. I was five months old.  Back in those days, March 1947, the trip was 2-lane highway all the way and part of it wound through the twisty mountain roads of Pennsylvania and Virginia.  I never quite enjoyed that story because it would always give me a feeling of an unsettled stomach.

1. She would always tell the story of me getting a new tricycle when I was two years old.  She said I would tear through the yard, or the hard packed red clay dead-end street we lived on then, and would keep that tricycle on two wheels most of the time.  I tried to imagine that when she told that story but I was probably 12 or 13 when I finally realized it was possible to two-wheel a three-wheel vehicle.  Maybe some of that was the influence of my Uncle Bobby who would have been 13 at the time and who, I remember, had a motor scooter he used to fly around the neighborhood.  My Mother also told the story of how Uncle Bobby almost came to an early end when she caught him with me on that scooter zooming up and down the road when I was about three.  Ah, the good times.

1. The one story she continued to tell as the years unfolded and I became very much into racing is how I had several toys when I was just a little tyke, maybe one year old she would say.  I had Teddy Bears, toys guns, all sorts of building blocks and such, and one little toy car.  She told the story that it was blue with a yellow top and the top was a convertible top that would actually go down exposing the plush interior.  My Uncle Bobby and I used to talk about that little car when I would hang out at the hospital with him in his last months.  We would laugh and say that if we still had that car it would be worth a fortune.  He thought it was a model of an older Hudson, maybe from the 30s.  It was solid metal and you couldn't have hurt that thing with a sledgehammer.  Anyway, as my mother would continue the story, I didn't touch any of the other toys, choosing to always play with that little car. That, she says, was the beginning of my love affair with automobiles.

1. When I was almost four, just after my brother Richard was born, I got one of those pedal cars.  The story, so my Mother told it, was that I pedaled that car more than a thousand miles outside, most of the time making the same roaring motor sounds I did when playing with that little convertible.  As for what happened to that pedal car, well, it's like this.  I was outside in the backyard playing in the car while she was inside taking care of the tiny baby, Richard.  It started to lightly rain so I managed to drag that car up the back steps into the house, dirty tires and all.  She was walking out of the bedroom holding the baby when I blasted into the hall in a four-wheel power slide on the hardwood floors. I almost ran over her and the baby so that was the end of the pedal car.  Thinking back on that, I never did see it towed away.  It just disappeared.

1. The last disclosure for the night, and Jeff you're going to love this one.  I think up until the day she died in December, 1998, my mother enjoyed telling folks how she and my Daddy couldn't wait until the day I started talking.  Then she would go on to say that once I said my first word, it was a never-ending string of one word after another.  She claimed they never did find the switch to turn me off.  She would also claim the first word I ever said was "car", but I think that was just adding color to the guy who always talked about cars and racing.

[caption id="attachment_5428" align="alignleft" width="255"] Occoneechee Speedway[/caption]

This coming weekend, in a little place called Hillsborough, NC, at a track called Occoneechee, there is an event entitled "Celebration of The Automobile".  I first attended that event I think six years or so ago.  From the moment I drove up to the entrance that day, I have had nothing but the deepest respect for all the folks that put in so much to make this event happen every year.   A couple of years ago it rained all day Saturday but it didn't seem to dampen the spirit of the folks in attendance, and there were a lot of folks in attendance that day.  That was the day I was shivering from being cold and ended up with Frances Flock bestowing one of Tim Flock's jackets upon me.  I still wear that jacket when it is slightly cool.  Another year it was so cold that I was shivering with cold even though I was in a heavy jacket, gloves, hat, and everything. Ed Sanseverino took my picture, unknown to me at the time, and that is the photo I use on my hero cards and on my business cards. My sincere thanks to Ed for allowing me that privilege.

If you are a fan of racing history, a fan of the drivers and crew members from the early days, and a fan of the cars that made the sport spectacular, then you owe it to yourself to be in Hillsborough this Saturday, September 26.  I cannot begin to tell you what a great time it is to hang out with folks like Johnny Allen, Rex White, The Wood Brothers, Harlow Reynolds, Reb Wickersham and so many more.

[caption id="attachment_5429" align="alignright" width="105"] Gene Hobby[/caption]

One of the gentlemen who works so hard on this event is Gene Hobby, a pioneer racer in his own right.  You might say he turned the sport of stock car racing upside down one day at that very track, but the greatest thing about Gene is the total dedication that he shows to this event and his total, complete, and unabashed excitement he exhibits every time he talks about the event.  I have been privileged this year to get a call or two a week from Gene to give me the news of the latest addition to the list of drivers or an additional car or two, or three, that will be there on the 26th.  Last count I heard was about 110 cars.  Let me tell you folks who haven't been there that you cannot imagine what it is like to watch these cars parade around that 9/10ths of a mile track. Gene says they will run then in two segments.  Bear in mind this is supposed to be a "parade" on the track where there is almost no room to pass. Also, bear in mind that every year, with the exception of the year it rained, the dust was flying as were the cars zooming through the tree-lined speedway where the 50s and 60s saw some really great racing.  I'm sure Frank Craig is just full of memories of some of those events.

So, in my opinion, the event this weekend is appropriately named, "Celebration of The Automobile".  I like that.  The automobile has come a long way from that Plymouth Coupe which brought me South to live my life as a Southerner. Racing, NASCAR would have you believe, has come a long way as well.  That was true before the metamorphosis began in the late 80s. By the 90s, the sport was moving away from the days that, in my opinion, made it great.  Since 2000, the sport has fallen apart.  You know, the first race of the 2015 Chase, you know that disaster perpetrated upon us by those folks who claim to know what is best for the sport, began this past weekend.  I was watching my grandson Sam play soccer.  Although my knowledge of soccer is very, very, very limited, I think it is obvious that my knowledge of soccer far exceeds certain individuals' knowledge of stock car racing.

There is so much more to be enjoyed with the group of folks who will gather in Hillsborough this weekend. Much more than a high school or college class reunion as the folks gathered in Hillsborough share a common love of stock car racing. You can actually rub shoulders with some of the folks without whom there would be no sport, no NASCAR. The stories you will hear will not only entertain and inform you of how it was in the early days, but will also allow you to know, without a doubt, that what we had then as race fans was so much more than what is being presented on the tracks of NASCAR today.  I will tell you this.  I would rather spend time with Johnny Allen or Reb Wickersham and ANY, I repeat, ANY driver currently running the Sprint Cup Series.  These guys have stories to share about building the sport although not a one of them will claim any special status because of what they did. It is a wonderful experience for such.

Celebrate the Automobile.  Thanks to the Historic Speedway Group  for making that happen.  My Mother would approve, I am sure.

[caption id="attachment_5426" align="aligncenter" width="280"] 1930s Plymouth Coupe[/caption]