Racing History Minute - Daytona 500 - 1980
Stock Car Racing History
The first Daytona 500 for me to attend was the 1980 edition. My first trip to Florida - and first time on a plane - was about 3 months earlier when my family flew to Jacksonville for my uncle Earl's wedding. There my uncle Ronald who had intro'd me to racing about 6 years earlier committed to taking me to Daytona in February. With King Richard having won the 1979 500 AND the year's championship, I was on a high knowing he'd likely return strong in the 1980 race. Plus, simply going to Daytona was going to be huge.
As much as I love my uncle, he has always been somewhat of a free spirit. As time grew near, the plans changed a bit. Rather than have me ride with him to Jacksonville to stay with my uncle / his brother, he called my mother to say he was already IN Jacksonville and put me on a bus! Today, I'd be frustrated as hell if he pulled that stunt - but then it was simply no big deal. I kept my eye on the prize and really wasn't worried about the details - even if my parents were.
So my mother took me to the Nashville bus station, and she put me on the 'Hound - on a Friday night - for an all-night trip to Jacksonville. I naively slept pretty much the whole way. Fortunately, my uncle did at least pick me up at the station down there - well at least Earl did. Ronald, who'd promised the trip, was a no-show. All I can do now is just laugh about it.
On Saturday night, Earl surprised me with an unexpected outing. He took me to NWA wrasslin' at Jacksonville's Memorial Coliseum. Earl was very intellectual, college educated, informed of current events and opinionated about them, and a sports junkie. But professional wrestling was kind of his 'soap opera' or 'trashy novel' vice. Unlike many who immersed themselves in it, he knew what was real vs. staged. But he still enjoyed and laughed heartily at the story lines. We got to see The American Dream Dusty Rhodes, Harley Race and the largest man I've ever seen in my life Andre The Giant.
My uncle's father-in-law had a mid-size motor home - the kind with one of the bunks over the cab. Earl and my new aunt, Ronald and his girlfriend, and I left Sunday morning. As Tim said, I remember the cold morning. I was going to Florida where I thought it was always the sun always shone and was always warm. * EHHHHH, wrong answer * I had a long sleeve shirt, a denim jacket and a orange/blue Petty ball cap.
Best I can recall, I think we entered the infield from a crossover up near turn 2. As soon as I caught sight of the asphalt, banking, grandstands, the lake, the campers, and all the flag, I remember my jaw dropping and my heart pounding.
Unlike Tim's normal spot, I vaguely remember being somewhat in the center of the infield. We were in front of the lake without a really clear view of anything - not of the pits or of turns 3 and 4. I could make out the S/F line through the myriad of folks on the tops of their motorhomes and the 'roofs' covering the pit stalls. And we had a pretty good view of turns 1 and 2 as they headed down the backstretch.
With the 43 starting 4th, that dayglo red and Petty blue popped from the starting grid whereas the gray pole winning car of Baker was hard to spot anywhere on the track from where we were.
The 43 was competitive, and I remember shaking as he made lap after lap in the draft. Part of it was adrenalin - but I'm sure a lot of it was because the temps were definitely dropping as a stiff wind blew. But I simply could not believe it when Petty disappeared from the track.
Knowing I use a scanner today and that I used a Winston AM radio headset back in the late 80s/early 90s, I find it funny I didn't wear any sort of radio back then. I had no idea what had happened. By the time 43 disappeared, Ronald had already climbed down from top and disappeared into the motorhome. Partly to get warm by the interior but also to get warm with several nips from a bottle of Jack D! He had MRN on the radio, and that's where I had to learn 43 was done for the day after climbing down myself.
Either I've forgotten or perhaps didn't stay on top of it back then, but I have no memory of Kyle having missed his 1st 500 because of the wreck in the 125. But 1980 Speedweeks wasn't nearly as kind to the Petty team as the 1979 edition - or 1981.
Yet the race continued, so I went back on top. After another dozen laps, the cold got the best of the rest of 'em. One by one, my aunt, Ronald's girlfriend and then Earl all retreated to the motorhome leaving me alone up top. I shivered with hands thrust in my pockets and my collar upturned as a hedge against the wind.I know Buddy won. But try as I might to squint from our position, I simply could not see that gray Olds cross the line.
The race is one of a few where I don't have a ticket stub. I think we just paid a flat fee or maybe a per head fee to get in the infield. But my collectibles I bought - 2 of which I still have were:
The program
A patch with the old DIS logo - that I got at Stuckey's - on the way back to Jax. My mother stitched it plus multiple other racing patches to the back of that jean jacket I wore to the race.
And a DIS t-shirt. I wore that shirt until it was thread bare - well, actually until I piled on the Freshman Fifteen (and then some) in college. I'd hate to think what I'd look like if I tried to sport a shirt that small today. Ha.
The arrangement between my uncle and my parents - which I guess was written in sand I guess - was that Ronald would drive me back to Tennessee on Monday. I can't remember if the day was a holiday - President's Day maybe? - or if I simply missed school. I did, however, need to get back to return on Tuesday. But again, plans are always fluid with Ronald. Instead of driving me back, he decided he'd stay a few more days. So he took me to Jax airport and bought me a one-way ticket on Eastern Airlines to Nashville. At least he did park and wait with me at the gate until flight time. I was still relatively new to racing faces to go with names, and I certainly doubt I could pick many out of a crowd except maybe the King. While waiting at our gate, Ronald nudged me and said "you recognize those two?". I wasn't sure who he was referring to as I scanned around. Finally he pointed - "Right there. Its Junior Johnson and Cale."
Suddenly it was an "oh yeah!" moment yet I just sat there. I had the opportunity the meet them both at my first Cup race at Nashville in 1978. But because Cale dominated for the win and because I'd drawn a bead on getting to the 43 after the race (and hopefully Richard), I passed up my shot. In February 1980, I passed on opportunity #2. I still was no big fan of that 3x champion, so I let it go even though it was cool to spot them at the airport. I recall Ronald laughing as he said I may be taking being a Petty loyalist a little too far.
When the 43 returned to victory lane in 1981, I was obviously excited - especially with the way he won it vs. Bobby Allison. Yet I was frustrated a bit because I'd been to the middle year between wins in 79 and 81. The feeling subsided though. Its still fun to recall my 1st trip to the beach and only my 2nd Cup race to attend.