Sprint Cars
The first time I ever saw one I was 14 years old.
I grew up on a farm along the Mississippi river just north of Hannibal Mo; Of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn fame.We lived on the Illinois side farmed in the bottoms and raised cattle up on the bluff. My Dad had been fighting poor crop prices;unpredictable weather, and the possibility of a flood every year.
Having a degree in agriculture from Western Illinois U he put some feelers out for prospective opportunities;and one came along.My Dad was Hired by a research laboratory in Ohio,to become Assistant to the president--He later became pres.While well and good for the rest of my family I was looking at a total change in my life not the least was the school in Ohio didn't have football,Something as important to me as breathing,but I didn't get a vote so off to Ohio we went.Well this lab my Dad went to work for had a research farm so upon my arrival I rode my bike out to see if they needed any help bailing hay.This started my Hay Bailing years.I ended up working summers for an alfalfa mill bailing hay for them (all of this to stay in shape for hopefully college football)Herein is where the story has its beginnings.
We had a hay field right next to the Race track at New Bremen (an asphalt track)Well we were working out there on a Saturday afternoon and the promoter A mr Cook, came on out to the field with tickets for the USAC Sprint car race on Sunday.So Sunday after church I hopped on my bike and rode it 6 miles to the race track.Now this was 1965 I saw AJ Foyt,Larry Dickson,Waldo Andretti--Marios brother, Eddie Sacks-Later was killed in the Indy 500 that year.It was wonderful sounds ,the smell,and the cars were soooo beautiful tryed to go to The speedway whenever they had a USAC race then one day someone told me of another track not to much farther away .--By this time I had my Drivers licence The race tracks name was Eldora .1/2 mile dirt track.A life changing event the first time I went. I remember A car from Dayton Flipping all the way down the back stretch with the drivers arms stretched out over his head from inertia It was the most violent horrendous thing I had ever witnessed just knew the guys that drove those things had to be crazy ;It wasn't too long after that I knew I had to drive one.
I started out in Hobby stocks then late models It Wasn't until I was In my 30's that I finally got A Sprint car . We raced the Sprint Cars for 6 wonderful years mostly Florida With the Tampa Bay Area Racing Assoc.Then with American Winged Outlaws,we raced Florida Georga,North and South Carolina's,Tennessee,andAlabama All through my Girls Jr High and High School Years we Raced.Had the only all Girl pit crew I must say definitely the happiest days of my life ----SO FAR
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Lessons from the bean field
When I read John Grishoms The Painted House I saw so much similarity between my growing up in the River bottoms of Illinois and his in Arkansas.His of course took place before I was born but the river is timeless. Grishams family grew cotten Ours grew soybeans;and thats where our story begins.
My dad said that a farmer is judged by the straightness of his planted rows and the cleanliness of his bean field.Well his rows were always straight as an arrow and you didn't see a weed in our bean fields thanks in no small part to me starting when I was about 6 years old .Every summer my Dad would get some old broom handles and bolt a sickle blade to the end; and that would be your weeding stick for the summer.My Dad would roust me out of bed and down to the bottoms we would go 'weeding four rows at a time and our fiels were a half mile long most of the time you would get to the end turn around and get back to the truck by noon then eat the lunch my mom had made us; then one more round and it would be dark. Time to go home sleep and again tomorrow.We would listen to the St Louis Cardinals on the truck radio on the way home In fact I saw my first world series of many on the radio.My Dad didn't talk about the war much but every once in awhile When it was just him and me He would start talking as we worked cutting them dern weeds.I heard about flying fighter planes in North Africa All about p51 Mustangs,british spitfires,P38 called the flying tigers My dad flew all of them. He told me of flying to see my mom one sunday afternoon from st Louis The whole town came out to see him off;and when he took off he circled around and buzzed the airport just a few feet off the ground He laughed and said you should of seen them run.He got lost in the fog in Italy kept losing altitude pulled the stick back still dropping untill he dropped out of the clouds in a valley he was upside down and didn't know it ;He just rolled it over and followed the valley. He said God was definately his copilot .
I always had a great dislike for weeding beans,the sweat in your eyes.had to go barefoot because the black gumbo would stick to shoes and made you ten foot high So I didn't wear shoes much in the sommer (I didn't mind that much) Bugs that would bite and sting and the hotter and madder you got the more they would bite and sting Fighting through weeds a lot taller than me facing it seemed like unsurmountable challenges every day all day
But i'd give almost anything to spend a day in the bean field with my Dad
My dad said that a farmer is judged by the straightness of his planted rows and the cleanliness of his bean field.Well his rows were always straight as an arrow and you didn't see a weed in our bean fields thanks in no small part to me starting when I was about 6 years old .Every summer my Dad would get some old broom handles and bolt a sickle blade to the end; and that would be your weeding stick for the summer.My Dad would roust me out of bed and down to the bottoms we would go 'weeding four rows at a time and our fiels were a half mile long most of the time you would get to the end turn around and get back to the truck by noon then eat the lunch my mom had made us; then one more round and it would be dark. Time to go home sleep and again tomorrow.We would listen to the St Louis Cardinals on the truck radio on the way home In fact I saw my first world series of many on the radio.My Dad didn't talk about the war much but every once in awhile When it was just him and me He would start talking as we worked cutting them dern weeds.I heard about flying fighter planes in North Africa All about p51 Mustangs,british spitfires,P38 called the flying tigers My dad flew all of them. He told me of flying to see my mom one sunday afternoon from st Louis The whole town came out to see him off;and when he took off he circled around and buzzed the airport just a few feet off the ground He laughed and said you should of seen them run.He got lost in the fog in Italy kept losing altitude pulled the stick back still dropping untill he dropped out of the clouds in a valley he was upside down and didn't know it ;He just rolled it over and followed the valley. He said God was definately his copilot .
I always had a great dislike for weeding beans,the sweat in your eyes.had to go barefoot because the black gumbo would stick to shoes and made you ten foot high So I didn't wear shoes much in the sommer (I didn't mind that much) Bugs that would bite and sting and the hotter and madder you got the more they would bite and sting Fighting through weeds a lot taller than me facing it seemed like unsurmountable challenges every day all day
But i'd give almost anything to spend a day in the bean field with my Dad
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