Quote:
Originally Posted by Dwight Southerland
In 1975, my partner and I were driving home from a points race in LaPlace, LA. We had a '65 Chevelle SW O/S car loaded on a single cab ramp truck. We had taken a helpful kid with us for the weekend to give him the experience of "big-time drag racers". Well, the kid was wimpy tired at dark-thirty in the morning and there wasn't enough room in the cab for three to be comfortable, so we put him in the driver's seat of the wagon to lay down and sleep. Just north of Jackson, MS on I20, we are cruising at about 70 when my partner sees a sign up ahead that says "BUMP". Before he could react, we encounter a buckle in the pavement that could have been an Olympic ski jump. With eyes as big as silver dollars and a death grip on the steering wheel we daylighted the ramp truck over the bump. Everything in the cab bounced off the ceiling, including us. Coffee everywhere, knots on our heads and half the stuff that was laying in the floor is now on top of the dash! Luckily, he maintained control and pulled over a quickly as he could gain his senses. We jumped out to check the car and survey the damage. Whew! Chains on the front and back held and everything was tight. Then he thought of the kid. . . Opened the door to find stuff thrown around everywhere in the car, including the kid! He was now in the back seat, but still sound asleep! The kid later became a partner on the car since we figured that anyone who could deal with stuff that well has got to be worth something.
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Good story Dwight. I had one of those wimpy kid pit helpers myself once. this is the inverse story.
Muncie Dragway, 1986. We had this kid that thougth he wanted to be involved with racing. What he really wanted was a free ride to the drags and to "bask in the glory of the racing" planted in a lawn chair in the bed of the truck, while sitting and eating junk and drinking pop, LOL! Just like being at home, only more exciting.
I can't recall at what point it happened, either late in practice or maybe prior to the start of eliminations, my partner comes back to the trailer and says, car won't start. OK, it's either fuel or the batteries. I had just filled the tank (didn't have a cell, back then), so, unless it's another problem, it's likely the batteries. I yell at the kid, get down here and help me with the generator, it was one of those old ONAN's, the large heavy ones, not exactly mobile. He grabbed the end of this thing, lifted it up and looked at me like I was nuts. He says, where are we going? I simply pointed toward the staging lanes. We were probably pitted about as far back as you could get that nite, so, it was going to be a long walk.
Long story short, after 3-4 stops for him to rest and catch his breath, we made it to the lanes, recharged the batteries. If memory serves me right, went deep into the eliminator that nite. Funny this was, called the kid up the next weekend, asked him if he wanted to go again. He had something else planned, maybe later he said! He did go a time or two more but don't think he was ever as enthused as the first time.