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GLEANINGS FROM THE GROVE
he began to bump into me, trying to force me I knew the truth. My career, such as it was, was
out of the way. Over the sounds of the engines over. I can hear over the years the words “he
he (hopefully) did not hear what I was yelling could have been a contender,” but it just was not
at him, but I could see not only my sponsor, but to be. My dad came up to me while I sat cooling
the officials perk up. Me, with a lap under my down and burning off the adrenaline and told
belt, really did not have the skills to challenge me there was no more racing for me. Perhaps
this attempt at usurping me from my second he could see dollar signs as he contemplated
place, and in the flash of a second, he caught the destruction of one of these $1,500 cars, me
my rear tire. I felt the uneasy wobble in the rear in a wheelchair or worse. Dejected, we went
and began to lose control of my car. The hay back home in complete silence as visions of the
bales loomed up all too quickly as I smacked trophies and acclaim as a driver faded away.
head-first into them and burrowed deeply. I did However, no matter what anyone could say,
manage to flip the on/off switch and shut down I could hold my head up high, because I had
my engine and began to scramble out of my been a driver, in a race, and survived a crash
car—madder than a wet hen. Yet I saw at once unscathed. I still had a smile on my face.
that the “Klipper Kidd” had spun out of control Nothing was ever said again about becoming
and was now wedged into a bale on the opposite a race-car-quarter-midget-as-it-was driver. A
side. Sorry—no dramatic scenes of pit crew, little thing called the Viet Nam War interfered
sirens, fire, and rescue trucks, but the sponsor next as my father headed overseas and barely
running over to me while the officials gathered (physically and mentally) came home again.
around the other car. The man immediately He would not let me get my driver’s license
asked how I was, then proceeded to tell me how at 16 because I believe he still thought I would
impressed he was that my first reaction was to be a speed demon addicted to the smell of
switch off the motor so as not to start a fire. He gas and oil, the throbbing engine, and that
assured me that I was not at fault for the crash, excitement and thrill of driving a mini-race car.
nor was there any damage to his car, but cause And I am sure he was right. Years later, I loved
was assigned to illegal and improper practices driving a fire pumper with full lights and siren,
on the other kid’s part. the crescendo of the gears and brakes upon
Deliberate “bumping” of another vehicle was arrival. All because of a cool spring morning
prohibited. He was disqualified for the day for years before when I was a race car driver. I was
unsafe driving and was going to be suspended. a contender. Nobody will ever take that away
A crew of volunteers rescued old Betsy from from me as long as I live and breathe.
her hay bales, and she was being prepared for
another race. I was sent to the waiting area. But
VOICES! | FEBRUARY 2023 35
