My Name Is Not Important

You have seen me, perhaps as a vapor across the infield, or maybe heat waves rising from the asphalt on a hot Carolina day.  You have heard me as the breeze moves the branches of the trees that surround my existence.  You have felt me as the cold chill that courses through...

Personal Racing History Minute

I cannot say, with any certainity, that my first trip to a race track in the late summer of 1952, started my dream to become a race driver.  I can say, without reservation of any kind, that it was on that night that my love affair with stock car racing began.  My grandfather...