Off The Wall

February 3, 2010

The end of the summer in 1984 meant a return trip to Indianapolis over Labor Day weekend to indulge in another overdose of nitromethane. This year was a little different. I was taking the kids along, because this was something I wanted them to experience as well. Three boys between the ages of six and twelve, and me, headed for a two-day weekend at the Nationals. Those three had been, for the most part, raised around drag racing, so it wouldn’t be totally foreign to them. The same couldn’t be said about the boy’s friend Craig.

Whether Craig came over to visit my sons or went home to visit his parents I never did figure out. But, he was more than just a hang-around, so when it came time to head for Indy, his inclusion was inevitable. His dad was an insurance attorney and a good man that couldn’t find the business end of a dipstick. For some reason, the parade of street rods, street machines, motorcycles and the front-engined dragster in the trailer in my driveway seemed to have a mesmerizing effect on the young man.

Those of you that have children are aware of how quickly a kid’s attention can be diverted at a drag race.  This was the Nationals! And I’m the only one resembling and adult! Suddenly I’m standing in the middle of a group of short people that have saucers for eyeballs and are emitting a constant stream of “lookit that, lookit that, lookit that!” So much for concentrating on racing. Counting heads became routine. “Hey look, Shirley’s here…1,2,3,4. Beadle and Prudhomme are staged and 1,2,3,4,…who won?” All said it was a great time!

Craig really didn’t say much in the couple days away, and when he jumped out of the van on his way back to visit his parents, he simply said ”bye.” That was just normal and it was almost impossible to tell if the event had struck a chord in him or not. I found out later that Craig had driven his parents half crazy with his non-stop chatter about that race, so apparently he spent two days just absorbing everything.

Things are so much different today. A “Nationals” is in our back yard here at Norwalk, and Craig is grown, married, and has kids of his own. But, guess who I see at Summit Motorsports Park every June. Yep, and he not only brings his son, but occasionally he has others in tow. That one simple act that didn’t take any more effort than normal left a life-long impression that’s now being shared by yet another generation. Thinking back, that would have surprised me that day the kid jumped out of the van headed for home.

Do you know Craig? Sure you do. He lives in your neighborhood and spends time hanging around. He’s always curious, and frequently in the way. He’s quiet, or loud, and is a good kid, or floundering. But he looks at you with a curiosity that deserves to be answered. Are you going to leave him home this year? The Summit Racing Equipment NHRA Nationals are here June 24^th through the 27^th.