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Chapter 78: Thad Fights the Wall

“There’s nothing like a Labor Day weekend ending here,” said Farrell. “If you pointed a gun at me and made me pick a favorite Indiana race track, I’d have to say right here.”

“You could do worse, but I’ve come to like ‘em all, man.” Thad sipped a beer while they waited on the pits to open. Ten thousand dollars was on the line tonight and Thad’s guess was about 35 cars were there. He was close. It was 38.

It turned out to be a great night for Thad and company. He qualified seventh fastest and finished third in his heat race. Brad had qualified near the front, but bobbled in his heat. This put him in the B and Thad on the pole for the feature.

While looking at the lineup with Brad, he asked Thad, “Aren’t you going to thank me?” Thad laughed and said he would wait until after the race.

It was just as well. Thad fought with Cosmo for the lead for the first half of the 40-lapper. He ran high while Cosmo made the low groove work. Just after the halfway mark, Thad sailed into turn one just a couple of inches too high. He tapped the wall just hard enough to cause him to almost lose control. Thad nearly tipped over, but somehow managed to regain control. By that time, Cosmo was long gone and Thad was now busy fighting for second with Preston. The excursion with the wall had bent something and Thad had his hands full keeping from smacking the wall again.

With five laps to go, Preston, who was having his own issues with his car and lapped traffic, got around Thad and tried to catch Cosmo. At this point with only three laps to go, Preston caught a mighty break when Cosmo slowed on the backstretch with a flat tire. Preston happily accepted the gift, the lead, the win and the $10K. Thad hung on for second over a fast closing Lane Rasmussan.

After the race, Thad and Farrell took their time watching Charles and Tyrus load up for the night. Other drivers, pit crews, fans and general hangers-on stopped to chat. When they could, Thad and Farrell talked about the next season. Thad knew it was time that he made a decision. He knew that Farrell was interested in buying the team, but might be inclined to play a bigger role with the team next year with Thad continuing as owner with a new driver. They talked about Tyrus and expanding his role with the team next year. It was looking more and more like Charles would stay with the team as well when time and his schedule permitted. When Thad commented that it sounded like running the team would be more expensive next year, Farrell laughed and said, “Sounded?”

They finally agreed that Thad and Arley, assuming Arley would go along with the idea, would sell the team to Farrell, but stay on as sponsors. Eventually, the numbers were worked out, papers were signed and there were handshakes all around. Arley was contacted and agreed to the plan.

Thad had mixed emotions about turning over the reins to anyone. He had enjoyed the time spent in Indiana, but he knew that it would be foolish to keep doing this much longer. Of course there was the injury factor, but the more immediate challenge was the relentless (to Thad) travel. He concluded that this was more fun than NASCAR, but more stressful too. In his role as owner-driver, Thad delegated what he could to Farrell, Rhonda, Tyrus and now even Charles, but it still left him with decisions to make.

One of those decisions was to take a weekend off and prepare for Eldora’s Four Crown. Farrell had a talk with Thad about the perils of racing at Eldora, which may have been the most difficult and treacherous of all the tracks on USAC’s schedule, but was also the most rewarding to even finish a race, never mind winning.

The more Farrell talked about the challenge that was Eldora, the more Thad was anxious to race. So off they went to western Ohio, Thad’s only visit to a track not in Indiana.

The Hoosier Race Report: Jerry Gappens

My grandson and I were headed north to meet up with his dad for a long weekend. When we were almost there, I had one of those out in left field thoughts. Why isn’t there a Hall of Fame for promoters? Two nominees came to mind quickly. The O’Conner family at Kokomo would surely belong in my fictitious Indiana Race Promoters’ Hall of Fame. The next name that came to me was Jerry Gappens. We arrived at our destination and Karston’s dad and I chatted for a while and then everyone headed to their destination, but I had to eat first. I was surfing the internet in a parking lot when I saw the terrible news. Jerry Gappens had died.

I didn’t know Jerry that well, but during his time promoting at Gas City, he was always friendly and accommodating. During his relatively short stay at Gas City, he had revived the track and actually promoted the track and the racers. Attendance was good, both in the bleachers and the pits. Jerry was quick to involve fans in some sort of activity during the (gasp) intermission. Like all good promoters, and Indiana has been blessed with several, Jerry worked harder than most of us would care to work. He was always looking to improve an already good short track experience. He found time to talk to me when I wrote a story about one of his team, Tyler Kelly. Jerry seemed to get along with everyone, not an easy task when dealing with such a variety of personalities. When I wrote a book a few years back, Jerry allowed me to set up shop and try and sell a few books, even setting them on the counter in the gift shop.

My last communication with Jerry was via email about two and a half years ago. Like the other promoters I’ve dealt with over the past twenty years, I sent Jerry a message telling him that I would not be going to many races in the foreseeable future due to my wife’s diagnosis of dementia. He promptly answered and said that he would be praying for my wife. I couldn’t have asked for more.

Of course we all will die, but knowing that doesn’t lessen the shock and hurt when it happens to anyone we may know. Jerry Gappens, I am sure, was in the middle of doing what he loved when he took the proverbial checkered flag. It isn’t fair, we cry, and it’s a shame. It’s true that any death isn’t fair, but it’s a fact of life such as it is.

Those of us left behind are left with memories and let us be thankful for that. Whether you loved or hated Jerry Gappens for whatever reason, at least know that the racing world is somewhat diminished with Jerry’s passing. God be with you, buddy.

Still basking in the glow of eight decades’ worth of memories at race tracks, I’m…

Danny Burton

Chapter 77: September Song

As Thad drove to the garage, Willie Nelson’s version of “September Song” made its entrance on the radio. It seemed somewhat appropriate as he and Farrell were going to talk about their September schedule.

Labor Day weekend would be their last three-race weekend, they decided. The lineup would be Bloomington, Lincoln Park and Haubstadt/Tri-State. They agreed that they would visit Gas City, Kokomo and Lawrenceburg at least one more time. On the spot, they called Charles’ parents and introduced themselves. They praised Charles, but expressed their concern that he would quit school and go racing full-time. Mrs. Pickens laughed at that one. Charles had told his parents how much fun he was having, but when he mentioned the possibility of quitting school, both mom and dad let him have it. Thad told her the Labor Day schedule and said that they could let her know the team’s weekend schedule if she liked. She said, no thanks, Charles could handle that. After multiple thank yous, Thad and Farrell hung up.

Before Thad went back home, he and Farrell talked about going to the Four Crown. It would be Thad’s first visit to Eldora and he was curious, despite Farrell’s warning of how hard Eldora could be. “I’ll tell you, Thad, it’s fast and even the bravest guys can be scared of it.” Thad looked at Farrell and shook his head, then laughed a nervous laugh. “I don’t doubt you for a second, old buddy. But I might give it a try.”

Eldora could wait. First up was one final visit to Bloomington. Charles had brought a friend with him, a local who had not been to Bloomington, he said, since he was in ninth grade. Farrell said to himself that the kid looked young enough to still be in the ninth grade, but he was the same age as Charles. It was fortunate for all concerned that the young man, Perry Finnegan, was happy to stay out of the way and mostly enjoy the racing from a seat in the bleachers.

It was a decent night for the team. Thad stayed out of trouble despite an ill-handling car. He was happy to finish fifth and discovered a right rear tire that was going flat as he exited the car. Another lap and it would not have been fifth.

From Bloomington, the team went to Lincoln Park on Saturday. Trouble began early as a middle aged man spouted off to Charles while the Tarheel Race Team was signing in. One use of the n-word and Charles grabbed the heavy set gentleman by the throat, shocking Thad, Farrell and Tyrus. The local constable quickly broke up the encounter before it got worse. To the jeers and catcalls of some bystanders, the guy was persuaded to leave. For good measure, the cop warned Charles to try not to get physical if it happened again. Charles smiled and shrugged.

While going through their pre-hot laps routine, Tyrus asked Charles, “Do you get that often?” Charles grunted and nodded, then said, “Not that often.” Charles didn’t seem to be in a good mood to talk, so Tyrus let it be.

It would be one of those nights where the car seemed to get faster as the feature went on. Thad found himself in a battle as the laps dwindled down with Jerald Jarvis working the low groove while Thad had the cushion all to himself. The race wasn’t decided until turn four of the last lap as Jerald couldn’t counter Thad’s momentum coming out of four to Brian Hodde’s checkered flag.

Post-race, Thad and the happy team posed for pictures before Brad Dickison interviewed Thad. When asked to comment on the race, Thad went slightly off-script. “Brad, this one is for our crew guy Charles Pickens, an IU student who started helping us out and now he won’t go away.” Lots of laughter followed, then Thad spoke again. “If you’re not blind, you can see that Charles doesn’t look like most of us and somehow he has the courage to come here and contribute. There’s been times he’s had to deal with people who don’t like other people who look like Charles. It’s a sad fact of life. Charles had an incident this evening that was settled quickly by the law. Justice was served, and I want to add one more thing: If anyone comes near the Tarheel Race Team and says anything that could be interpreted as being bigoted toward Charles, they will have all of us to deal with. So what if he doesn’t look like us? In the few weeks we’ve had him on our team, he’s made us a better team and we love him for it.”

The applause was generous and the interview was pretty much complete after Brad said he couldn’t add anything more.

The quartet of Thad, Farrell, Tyrus and Charles went back to the pits, loaded up and headed for their favorite motel in Cloverdale. There was another race coming up at Haubstadt.

Chapter 76: Wild and Crazy

Thad went out to the track earlier than usual to try and find a closer parking spot to the track. He decided to sit in his car and send a message to Kate.

Hi Kate: Sitting in the hauler at Kokomo, getting ready for another night of racing.

I’ve thought a bit about your preference to break up and, really, it’s probably the smartest thing you could do. Your world and mine are very different. I hope you got a good education while you were with me up here, but I understand that you felt it best to do what you’re doing. I’ll admit there’s an emptiness inside me but I’ve been dealing with that since Dina died. You did a very good job of moving that emptiness aside.

Take care,

Thad

Thad read the text over twice before sending it. He had learned that, a lot of times, the best thing you can do with any setback you can’t control is shrug your shoulders and walk away.

Racing would help with that. It was going to be a wild night.

To be more accurate, until the feature, it was relatively calm on the surface. Thad had been fighting a push in his car from the start of the forty lapper. He settled into fourth place and had a good view of the three-way fight for the lead ahead of him. Try as he might, Thad could not gain on the trio of Cosmo Novak, Preston Janssen and Rod Rasmussen, Lane’s brother, who were engaged in a series of slide jobs even as they darted around and dodged lapped traffic.

A yellow flag with six laps to go allowed all concerned to catch their breath. Lapped traffic wouldn’t be a factor, at least for much of the remainder of the race. The top five were Rasmussen, Novak, Janssen, Larrabee and Jankowski. Jerald Jarvis was sixth after starting nineteenth. Thad tried to figure out what Tyrus was signaling as he coasted through turn one. The running joke with Thad, Tyrus and Farrell all year had been about Thad’s inability to decipher what was being told to him. He shrugged inwardly and decided on his own what to do, which would be trying to stay as close to the leading trio as he could.

Tom waved the green flag and Thad got a good jump–or so he thought. A banzai slider from Jerald all the way from sixth put Thad and Caleb back a spot. Thad was suddenly perturbed with himself. He promptly passed Jarvis as the three frontrunners put more space between the others. Then it happened. Going into turn three, R. Rasmussen, who wasn’t shy about mixing it up with anyone, tried a slider much like Jerald’s a few laps before. He tried to force himself in front of leader Cosmo. It didn’t work; Cosmo gave no ground. He and Rod collided and flipped into the fence, taking Preston, who had no chance to react, with them. Thad and Caleb ducked low and coasted to a stop as Tom had replaced the white flag with the red as quickly as he could.

Racing was halted but the drama was just starting. Rod sat somewhat dazed in his car and was soon joined by Cosmo and Preston, both of whom were not pleased with the outcome. Heated words were exchanged and at one point Cosmo had to hold onto Preston to keep him from, as Jerald laughingly said much later, “jerk a knot in Rod’s poor tail.” As they often do, cooler heads prevailed and Cosmo and Preston hitched a ride on a golf cart to the pits, accompanied by thunderous cheers from the packed house. Rod opted for the safety of the ambulance.

Rod’s decision to ride in the ambulance was a wise one. Multiple discussions over the incident broke out as Cosmo and Preston watched from the golf cart. The security people were busy endeavoring to keep a semblance of peace. Farrell, Tyrus and Charles also watched the festivities from a safe distance. At one point, Tyrus turned to Charles and asked, “Nothin’ like watching rednecks get crazy on a Saturday night, right Charles?” Charles could only laugh. Rod went directly from the ambulance to the USAC trailer for a brief chat. The word was that Rod “had a severe talking to.”

The rest of the remaining field had been waiting for the race to restart. Farrell had been chatting with Thad about race strategy. It was a short conversation. Mostly they talked about the September schedule.

Thad led Caleb and Jerald to the green/white/checkered restart. Going into turn one, Thad stuck with the low line. Surprisingly it worked. Caleb and Jerald took the high groove and found themselves holding off Brad Caplinger, who got major traction coming out of turn two. Thad had it comparatively easy, winning $30,000 at the checkered with a ten car length margin of victory over Caleb and Jerald, who had a dustup with Brad in turn four. This “discussion” lasted all the way to the pits, where more shouting and pointing fingers ensued as Thad was being interviewed.

The Tarheel Racing Team celebrated at an all-night restaurant before heading south. As Thad followed the hauler down I-65, trying to stay awake, he finally thought of Kate. He smiled to himself.

Chapter 75: Adios, Kate

Thad groaned inwardly. Friday was going to be a bear.

The trio of Thad, Farrell and Tyrus headed for the motel. When Farrell and Tyrus invited Thad to join them for supper, he respectfully declined. They had no way of knowing that he had received a text.

From Kate.

Hi, Thad: Hope you are well, wherever you are. I’m texting you partly because I’ve not been able to reach you on your phone. I’m sorry, but I don’t think it would be a good idea to see you anymore. You have no idea how much it pains me to write that and I’m sure it won’t be pleasant for you either. But the lives we’ve chosen aren’t terribly compatible. I’ve enjoyed the time we spent all summer traveling all over Indiana, but my biggest problem was fear. I couldn’t get used to even the possibility that you would be injured in an accident. That, along with this continued absence, pushed me to make this most difficult decision. I’m so sorry, Thad.

You will always, no matter what, have a special place in my heart.

With all my love and affection,

Kate

Thad stared at his phone and read the text another time or two. He was tempted to answer right away, but decided to wait until when he felt a little more–what–objective? That would have to do.

In the meantime, Thad went to the Burger King, brought it to the motel room and ate his gourmet dinner while watching an old movie.

Friday was a typical Indiana day, hot and humid. Thad met Tyrus, Farrell and…Charles in the pits.

“Hi, Charles. What’s this I hear about you quitting school?” Thad was smiling as he spoke.

“I’m thinking seriously about it, Mr.--I mean, Thad.” Charles smiled back.

Thad had another question. “Have you discussed this with your parents?”

“Not yet, but I plan to when I talk to them on Sunday.”

Thad scratched his head and just looked at the young man who would be a great addition to the team. But he knew that this kid needed to be in school. Racing wouldn’t be the career for him. He had more potential than that if he wanted to be around racing. His talents would be wasted driving up and down the road, chasing races.

Charles was getting uncomfortable at Thad’s silence. Finally, Thad spoke. “Tell you what, Charles. Farrell, Tyrus and I have talked. Here’s my proposition. I’m going to hire you to work on the Tarheel Race Team. I’ll have Rhonda, Farrell’s wife, handle all the paperwork and you start right now.”

The young man’s eyes widened and he had a grin as wide as an Indiana cornfield. ‘Really? That’s great. I’m so ready for this.” He looked around at Tyrus. “I hope your job just got easier.”

Everyone laughed, then Thad spoke. “Charles, there’s only one condition to your employment.”

“What’s that?” Charles should have guessed what was coming.

“You stay in school, young man. I’ve done some checking and you have great potential to teach, write, you name it. You need to pursue that.” Thad paused for a second. “Does that mean no racing for you? Of course not. It does mean that you might have to work even harder than now, but Farrell and I think you can do that.” Another pause. “What do you think?”

Charles looked around at the others. His gaze settled on Tyrus. He asked, “How much pressure did you say the right rear needed?”

Everyone laughed and Farrell got out his phone. “Thad, I’m going to tell Rhonda she has a new employee to deal with.” Thad grinned and nodded.

The issue with Kate was on the backburner for now. Racing was the order of business. Thad and Charles went to the fence and watched the Kokomo Speedway crew massage the track. Thad remarked that the track would inevitably turn dusty despite the best efforts of these guys, who were as good as anyone at track prep.

The nearly sold out show got underway as Thad tried to guess what the track would do. He enlisted Charles to wander around the pits and observe certain people to see what they might be doing in terms of setups. He didn’t think Charles would know all the technical details of preparing a race car but his knack of observing might pay off.

Thad had a good if not great result in the Friday afternoon show. From his ninth starting position, Thad ran as high as fifth before dropping back to ninth, where he finished. He told Farrell that, sure enough, the track changed on him. Farrell just smiled as if to say “I told you so.”

The track crew worked like crazy to get the oval ready for the Friday night action. Thad was pleased that the track was the usual Kokomo surface. He came from sixth to give Cosmo fits in the feature before falling short.

There remained the Saturday night main event, paying a cool $30K to win. No doubt several drivers and/or team members did their share of tossing and turning, but Thad wasn’t one of them. He slept like a baby, waking up in time for the Saturday morning breakfast at the motel. He considered answering Kate’s text, but watched the Weather Channel while he ate instead.

Chapter 74: Smackdown

Lincoln Park Speedway was good to Thad the following night. It didn’t hurt to be good either. Thad started on the pole of the feature and benefited from a long green flag interval to finish a full straightaway ahead of Caleb. Thad got a laugh from the crowd when he apologized to them for “stinking up the show.”

Charles had been waiting on the little caravan that afternoon. Farrell was delighted. Charles didn’t know a lot about the mechanics, but he was eager to pitch in and do what needed to be done. Tyrus was especially pleased, partly because Charles was a lot of help and partly because they were roughly the same age. Thad was impressed that Charles had just shown up. Throughout the season, young people and old would hang around their pit and make promises about showing up to help. Charles followed through.

Thad and company took the following weekend off, preparing for the Kokomo Smackdown, three nights of hard core racing, easily as competitive as any other form of four-wheeled racing. Thad spent part of the break hanging around the apartment or trying to reach Kate. He tried three times before reaching her and even then, she couldn’t talk long because she was busy with the new school year. After the fairly brief conversation, Thad wondered if he and Kate were finished. Inwardly, he shrugged his shoulders despite the sting.

Whenever he was racing at Kokomo, Thad always made it a point to thank the O’Connor family for all they did. After the Kokomo’s Sprint Week night, Thad changed his thank you a little and thanked Reece for coming up with Smackdown. It was three nights of hardcore, cut-and-slash racing where emotions ran high and people could walk away with a nice chunk of change or another broken race car.

The Tarheel Race Team arrived early at the track, staking out a place in the line of haulers waiting to enter the pits. Thad parked nearby and wandered over to the line of people waiting for the pit shack to open. He found a smiling Tyrus in line for the team. Farrell was still in the tractor, not wishing to deal with the Indiana heat and humidity just yet.

“Why the big smile, Tyrus? You like this weather?”

The young man chuckled. “I just got a text from guess who?”

“I give up. Tell me, man.”

“Would you believe it was Charles? He said he can come up Friday and Saturday.”

Thad’s eyes widened. “Really? I think he’s got the bug.” He was serious. “That’s a good thing. No matter how long he lasts, we can use the help.”

Tyrus was serious, too. “He’s mentioned quitting school, Thad. Even I’m smart enough to know that might not be a good idea.”

“I may have to have a heart-to-heart with him. I don’t know his parents, but I’d guess they wouldn’t be crazy about that.”

“We’ll know more when he gets here.”

The pits opened and the 43 sprint car teams, along with the 17 Thunder Cars, eased into the pits. Clouds had gathered, giving everyone some relief from the sun. But people were checking their phones and looking at the sky. Reece had watered the track as if it wasn’t going to rain. If it didn’t rain too much, the racing would still happen. Farrell said that if it rained out, be ready to race tomorrow afternoon and evening. “They’ve done that before. Racers weren’t too crazy about it, but the fans liked it.” He looked to the west. “Ah, we’ll be alright, rain or shine.” Thad had to agree.

Just before the driver’s meeting, the sprinkles began and the wind picked up. Everyone scrambled for cover and the Hoosier sky became very dark. As Thad reached the hauler, Tyrus and Farrell had pushed the car inside. The rain began and USAC quickly announced that racing would begin tomorrow at two o’clock.

Chapter 73: The Dog Days

August in Indiana meant only slightly lower temperatures, but extra humidity with an occasional shower thrown in. There was the usual post-Sprint Week let down with car counts down somewhat. The Tarheel Race Team kept to a two races per weekend schedule.

The first Friday night in August saw the team unload at Bloomington with some missing members. Of course, Kate had gone. Arley and Louise had gone to a couple of NASCAR races, more to visit with old friends than watch the races. Rhonda had a nasty cold which kept her home for the weekend. Daryl had gone back to North Carolina to resume his place at the local watering hole. Most of Thad’s greetings were accompanied by asking where “his girlfriend” was. Thad made a mental note to tell Kate that she was missed.

It seemed as if he met a new person each time the team showed up to race. On this warm and humid Friday night, Thad was approached by a slim young man who was with a few other fellows, all of whom appeared to be college students. He wore a faded Thad Larrabee t-shirt. But first Thad noticed that the young man was Black.

“Hello, Mr. Larrabee. I’m Charles Pickens.” He stuck out his hand.

“Hi, Charles. Glad to meet you.” Thad pointed at the shirt. “Nice shirt, Charles.”

The young man looked down at the shirt and said, “Thanks. I bought it about two years ago. I’m about to outgrow it.”

“Where did you buy it?” Thad had been among the NASCAR stars who did a brisk business in souvenir sales while he was still racing stock cars.”

“At Pocono. I bought it two years ago. You had won the race the previous week.”

“That’s right, Charles.” Thad started to the drivers’ meeting. “C’mon, you ever been to a drivers’ meeting?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, it’s not a big deal, but you still have to pay attention so I’m inclined to attend.”

“I understand, sir,”

“Charles, you can drop that ‘sir’ stuff, man. But I appreciate your politeness.”

Thad was correct. There was one small change in the program. The modifieds would not be running a B main. Everyone would make the feature.

Charles tried not to look too self-conscious. He was getting used to being one of the few black folks at a race anywhere. For that matter, he was outnumbered at most places he went, even school. Charles knew that black people had to work harder to get what they could get, and he was determined to make his mark. He couldn’t help it if he discovered and loved racing while in grade school. A classmate smuggled in a copy of the National Speed Sport News and let Charles look it over. Instead, he read the whole thing, cover to cover and he was hooked. Charles had seen the occasional race on TV, but seeing stories and pictures put him over the edge.

English literature was Charles’ major and he wanted to be a writer. He figured that might end up writing about racing, maybe in PR or writing a feature story. No matter what, Charles Pickens loved racing and writing, and if he could make a living in either or both, he would be nearly as pleased as his parents.

As Thad prepared for hot laps, Charles talked with Farrell. By the time Thad finished his hot lap session, Farrell had a volunteer to take Kate’s place, plus do some heavy lifting. Charles was willing to work for free, but Farrell said no to that.

Thad finished second in his heat race and secured a third row starting spot for the feature. Tyrus let Charles push Thad to the staging area off turn two.

Charles felt like a kid in a candy store. Here was where he belonged. He felt at home here. Since his freshman year at IU he had been coming to Bloomington when he had the funds. He didn’t care about the stares from other people in the pits. He was black; so what? He was hooked on racing, mostly open wheel racing. There was no desire to go to Daytona or even Indianapolis. Charles’ goal was to go to as many different Indiana race tracks as he could, much as Thad had done.

The feature left Thad feeling happy, if not satisfied. He steadily moved up to second with five laps to go. A yellow waved and Preston Janssen was leading. Somehow Thad knew that his friend was aware of who was behind him. It seemed like both cars were equal. Thad would have to go where Preston didn’t. It almost worked. As Preston protected the bottom, Thad rode the cushion around the outside and fell a car length short as the checkered flag waved.

Sitting on the left rear tire after the race, and holding a cold drink, Thad was tired. He had remembered to text Kate, who had answered. Preston came over and gave his buddy a tug on the ear. Both laughed and replayed the last five laps like kids do after any game. Thad introduced Preston to Charles, who said hello and resumed helping Tyrus load up for the night.

Soon everyone was loaded up and heading home to prepare for another Saturday night race. Over his protests, Farrell slipped Charles $25 for his work. The Tarheel Race Team were heading to Lincoln Park tomorrow night and Charles was welcome to join them.

He said, are you kidding? I’ll be there.

Chapter 72: Goodbye Kate

Sprint Week traditionally ended at Haubstadt. But as the Tar Heel Race Team left Bloomington on Saturday morning, the weather forecast wasn’t very promising for racing. To no one’s surprise, light rain began falling somewhere near Shoals, Indiana. A wreck just east of Loogootee slowed the mini-caravan some more. Tyrus, who was driving the hauler as usual, grumbled to himself about the glacier-like pace of I-69’s construction. Farrell was philosophical about the whole thing, having endured many delays over the years. Rhonda was asleep in the back of the cab. Behind them, Thad looked at the surrounding hills of southern Indiana while Kate tried and failed to stay awake.

A potential rainout may have been the farthest thing from Kate’s mind. She was due back in North Carolina on Wednesday. Not only did she have to consider the challenges of a new school year, she had been pondering where her relationship with Thad would be going, even though they had talked about it a few times.

Thad had been prepared to take Kate back to North Carolina the first thing on Monday morning, but she wanted to fly to Asheville and hitch a ride to Brevard with a friend. He reluctantly agreed to take her to the Louisville airport on Tuesday.

Meanwhile, Thad and company sat under the awning of Arley’s RV waiting for the rain to stop. Louise bet Thad twenty dollars that the rain would continue until seven o’clock local time and Tommy and USAC would agree to cancel the program. If the race rained out, everyone would go a few miles south to Evansville and invade the casino. Daryl texted Thad from Illinois where he was visiting in-laws. The rain was easing up in Centralia, almost due west of Haubstadt. Thad smiled to himself, thinking about the twenty he would collect from Louise.

Two hours later, Thad was having a friendly chat with the Gunslinger about race promotion. Brad seemed to think that the promoters were prone to making more than their share. Thad tried for a while to convince the Gunslinger that may have been true–up to a point. But it seemed like complaints about promoters only came when the weather was agreeable, the bleachers and pits were full, and an abundance of sponsors were on hand.

As he spoke, Thad pointed to the western sky over Illinois. It was clearing off and the rain had stopped. People were filling the bleachers. The car count was 41 sprints and 23 modifieds. Sponsors were everywhere, offering goodies to fans and drivers alike. Thad said to the ‘slinger, “Remember that show in Pennsylvania a few weeks ago? What’d we have, nineteen cars? And if my memory is working, the crowd wasn’t that great either. How did the promoter do that night?”

Brad said, “Well, that was just one show.”

“You’re right, but he lost money that night. At least that’s what a lot of people said. People smarter than me.”

“You’re right about that.”

They both laughed and went to the driver’s meeting.

Thad and the Gunslinger would meet again later that humid evening. During hot laps a car spun in front of Thad, who could do nothing but hit the car. The damage was mostly to the front end and as the car went to the pits on the wrecker, Tyrus and Farrell swung into action, grabbing the tools and parts they would need.

Kate was amazed to find a group of mechanics and drivers heading to where Thad’s car was parked, led by the Gunslinger himself. The group would have made a Broadway choreographer proud as they thrashed away, trying to fix the car of a competitor–and a well funded competitor at that. She said to herself, “They are helping a guy who might beat them later tonight and take some of their money.” But she kept quiet as she watched the group get the car fixed so Thad could qualify.

Thad was the last qualifier and was happy with being 21st quickest of the 41 cars. He started on the front row of his heat and after the race he was interviewed. Thad tried to be brief, emphasizing the amount of help from his competitors and anyone else who helped repair his car. “The Tarheel Race Team tripled in size there for a few minutes.” The Tarheel team made the show, and would start ninth in the feature.

The heat race win would be the highlight of Thad’s night. Halfway through the feature, the track changed and Thad’s car developed a major push, the situation in which the car didn't want to turn. He wrestled the car as best he could and finished twelfth after running as high as fifth.

Cosmo won both the race and the Indiana Sprint Week championship, including the cool rocking chair. Thad had a slight mathematical chance at winning the title but his hot lap misfortune ended that.

After the race, the team slowly loaded up and prepared for the long drive across southern Indiana, with most of the trip on interstates 64 and 65. It would be a long drive even without losing the hour due to the time zone. They would arrive home in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

Sunday was the day of recovery. Thad and Kate had said little to each other as if they were avoiding the subject of her leaving. In his mind, there wasn’t much to say. Besides all that, they were all tired from the grind that is Indiana Sprint Week.

On Tuesday morning, Thad loaded the car with Kate’s luggage. They decided that he could bring her non-essential items to North Carolina on his next trip south. On the drive to Louisville, they talked some. Both expressed sadness that her Hoosier experience was over. They agreed that it was an education for both.

Thad walked with Kate as far as he could before security rules took over. He gave her a hug and kiss, wished her a safe flight, promised to stay connected between races, and walked back to his car.

Both fought back the tears as they went their separate ways, wondering what would be next.

Chapter 71: Three’s a Crowd

The storied red clay oval was a driver’s track even more than the others. Its turns were high banked and the track was narrow all the way around. Three-wide racing was possible, but not recommended. Thad ran well at Bloomington, but could never finish up front.

Qualifying was hold-your-breath-and-hang-on for about ten seconds. Thad loved the challenge, even though he seldom qualified very well. On this cloudy Friday night, he managed to go out fairly early and qualified tenth fastest.

After his heat race in which he finished fourth, Thad sat in his trailer with Caleb, who had beaten Thad out for third place in the same race. Both could see lightning off to the west, faint for now. Kate came over and showed them the radar on her phone. She said, “They better hurry.” Both nodded as they stared into the distance.

Caleb said, “Thad, can I ask you a kind of personal question?”

Thad looked at him and shrugged. “Why not?”

“Well, have you thought about your future? I mean, are you going to do this next year?”

“Good question. But I don’t have an exact answer yet. I’ve thought about it for sure.” Thad looked again. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Not necessarily.” Caleb leaned over closer to Thad. “I’m hearing talk that Tyrus is talking to some other owners. He’s a good kid, Thad. Talented too.”

Thad sighed a bit. “Yeah, I’ve heard the same thing. He’s talked to two owners I know of. I need to talk to Farrell and Tyrus too.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew. What those two do may depend on what you do.”

Thad looked at his friend. “One rumor I’ve heard is me selling the team to Farrell.”

“I've heard that one, plus I’ve heard one about Tyrus driving for Farrell in your car next year.”

Thad had to laugh at that one. “That’s a new one for me.” He looked around the busy pit area. “I’m definitely going to talk to those guys soon.”

Caleb grunted. “Silly season is alive and well.”

Any serious talk with Farrell or Tyrus would have to wait. Racing was on the agenda at the beautiful (Thad’s opinion, among others) red clay oval. As it turned out, Thad and Caleb started side by side in the fourth row for the feature. Both steadily moved forward until the yellow flag waved for a backmarker’s spin.

On the restart, Caleb was third with Thad fourth. There were only eight laps to go. The green flag came out and the good friends resumed their battle. With three laps to go, they had advanced to second and third and were closing in on the leade,r Cosmo. A lapped car was between the trio. It would be no big deal, but the car was occupying the middle lane. The narrow track was even more so. Things were coming to a head.

Thad decided that if Caleb passed the lapper on the high side, he would go low. Or he might ride the cushion if Caleb went low. This would have worked had the lapped car held his position. But as they went into the third turn three abreast, the lapped car noticed Caleb on his right before seeing Thad. The lapper turned down into Thad’s side, bouncing off him and then contacting Caleb’s car, sending him into a spin that should have been a lot worse. All three cars ended up pointing the wrong way as the yellow flag waved instead of the white.

Sitting in his car, waiting for a push, Thad was quite frustrated, but he knew it was another one of those racing accidents that wasn’t really anyone’s fault, especially not Caleb’s. The driver of the third car couldn’t know that Thad was going to go three-wide. Poor Caleb got the short end of the stick, but he was thankful it was only a spin and not anything worse.

The race ended with Thad finishing sixteenth and Caleb seventeenth. Afterwards in the pits, they sat in the same chairs talking about the race, signing autographs and getting their pictures taken by fans and photographers, both the real ones and the fans with their cell phones. Things died down somewhat as the two were joined by Farrell and Rhonda. There was no real hurry, despite the lightning that was now accompanied by thunder rolling through the southern Indiana hills. They would all get up in the morning and head for Haubstadt.

Of course, they were chatting about the late race incident and all agreed it was one of them racin’ deals. Finally, Caleb said to Thad, “Silly season? Man, it’s always silly season around here.” Everyone laughed, but only Thad and Caleb knew the true intention of his remark. It was left to Farrell to say, “Quite true, Rev. You should make that the title of your next sermon.”

More laughter ensued, because sometimes the best way to deal with a problem or setback is to laugh at it.

Chapter 70: Good Samaritan

Terre Haute was good to Thad, but not quite as good as Lawrenceburg. After setting fast time, Thad made a desperate last lap pass of Cosmo to finish fourth in his heat and transfer to the feature. Cosmo had to run the B Main, which he won.

The green flag dropped for the feature and Thad knew something wasn’t quite right with the car. The thing didn’t want to turn. Thad hated tight race cars, especially when he had to wrestle the NASCAR behemoths. This was nearly as bad. He was doing well to maintain his starting position, sixth. When Preston had a tire go flat on him with a lap to go, Thad was the first beneficiary, grabbing a top five.

After the race, Thad and Daryl sat by the hauler talking while Farrell, Tyrus, Kate and Rhonda busied themselves loading the car and equipment up for the next night at Lincoln Park. Arley and Louise had retreated to their RV. Other teams were doing similar work, the post-race ritual that would end the day for them–except for the few hardy fans or team members who were of a mind to whoop it up a bit before retiring for the night.

The following morning, Thad and Kate awakened to a series of noises outside their motel window. Thad looked at his phone which told him it was 8:23 a.m. Too late to go back to sleep, so Thad got dressed and went outside to see what was going on.

Brad Caplinger, his two-man crew, Farrell and Tyrus were working on Brad’s car. Farrell noticed Thad standing there and walked over to him.

“They are changing the engine. Lucky for them Tyrus is an ace when it comes to emergency engine changes,” Farrell said.

Thad yawned and said, “Do they need any help?”

“I imagine they’re hungry. Brad said they haven’t eaten yet.”

Thad said, “Well, I can take care of that. Are they about done?”

“Shouldn’t be much more than fifteen minutes.”

Thad squinted at Farrell. “Well, let ‘em get cleaned up and we’ll all go to that truck stop there across the road.”

“Sounds like a winner,” Farrell said.

“I’m going back to the room and wake Kate up–if she’s not already up. What do you say we all meet at the truck stop in 45 minutes?”

“Works for me. I’ll tell ‘em.”

Farrell sauntered back to the impromptu work area. Caplinger looked at him and pointed to Thad, who was going back to his room. “What did he want?”

Farrell shrugged. “Nothin’. He avoids work like this every chance he gets.”

Caplinger snorted and started to speak, but Farrell cut him off. “You guys get cleaned up and meet us at the truck stop in 45 minutes. Thad thought you all looked a little hungry so he’s buying.”

Brad looked at Farrell with some surprise. “He’s gonna feed the team that’s gonna whip him tonight?”

Farrell chuckled. “Something like that.”

An hour later, orders had been placed by the large group. Brad had maneuvered his way into a seat next to Thad, who was amused.

Naturally, Brad had to ask. “Why did you do this? What good does it do you?”

Thad was genuinely surprised, but recovered by asking, “Have you ever helped a fellow racer out? I know you have because I saw you do it for Zen the week before his wreck. And I saw you just give Lane Rasmussen a tire last week..” Slight pause. “A right rear, no less.”

Brad was taken aback. He tried to recover. “But you are a bigger name. I can beat Lane or Zen–if he was still out there. But you’re a threat to win whenever you show up. I can beat you on a given night.”

“Yeah, but a racer’s a racer.” Thad paused, wanting to choose his words correctly. Kate sat on the other side of him, marveling at his ability to have an answer for everything. “He should have been a teacher,’ she thought.

“You see, Brad, we’re all competitors here. That isn’t the same as enemies. Even in my NASCAR days, it wasn’t life or death. The same type of things happen there too, guys helping each other out. Not necessarily helping a guy out so he can beat you, but the day-to-day stuff. My late wife was the favorite babysitter of a lot of my competitors' kids until she got sick. If something like that is helping a guy outrun me, well, it will just have to be.”

The others at the table had gotten quiet, noticing this conversation was more interesting than whatever they had been talking about.

Brad sat still, obviously thinking about what he had just heard. Then he had a thought. “What if this great meal gives me the strength to beat you tonight?” He smiled and leaned back.

Thad didn’t miss a beat. “What if it makes you sicker than a dog?” Laughter rang through the truck stop. When it died down, Thad spoke again, seriously. “Brad, I hope you know I would never do that to my worst enemy and you are far from that. The point is that it doesn’t hurt to go out of your way every now and then to help somebody. That can cover a lot of ground, whether it’s here at breakfast or giving a guy a tire.”

“So do you get a rise out of my comments during interviews.” Brad was straining to get back on top of the conversation.

“Do you think that maybe I’ve heard the same stuff from NASCAR guys in times past? I learned years ago to let that stuff roll off my back. I get it that some guys use that to psyche themselves up. That’s fine, but don’t expect a guy to react one way or another. If he or she does, so be it. But otherwise?” Thad shrugged his shoulders, indicating how he would react.

The rest of the breakfast was relatively quiet. A few of the others wanted to extend the conversation but Thad was hungry.

That night at Lincoln Park, Thad was still hungry after he bobbled on the white flag lap while leading Jerald, who scooted by for the win. Thad wasn’t pleased with himself but did say that there was no shame in losing to Jerald, who everybody liked. The way he said it generated a good bit of laughter in the crowd. Even Jerald thought it was funny, true (it was) or not.

On to Bloomington.

Chapter 69: Time Out

“Only four more races?” Kate chuckled. “At least you get to enjoy your success a little longer.”

“Yeah, that’s true, kid.” Thad leaned back in his chair. He and Kate were at his apartment on a cloudy Monday afternoon enjoying the day off.

“Hey, did Rhonda get all the reservations?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’m betting on her.” Thad looked at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. I hope she reserves rooms at the Comfort Inn. It's a bit more of a drive but it’s worth it.”

Thad laughed. “She’s said that herself. I’ll bet that’s where we end up.”

They talked a while longer about whatever came up, as couples do when the pressure’s off. Then Thad noticed he had a phone call. It was Daryl.

“Hey Daryl. How are things down at the lake?”

“Raining now, Thad ol’ buddy.” Slight pause. “Guess what?”

“I give up, Oh wait. Rollie’s getting married.”

They both laughed. Daryl said, “Better than that. I’m coming up to Terre Haute on Wednesday.”

“Say what?” Thad was shocked.

“Yeah, turns out Sandy has a cousin over in Illinois she wants to meet.” Sandy was Daryl’s long suffering wife. Behind his back Rollie and Thad called her “The Boss.”

“We’re coming up Tuesday and I’ll meet you at the track on Wednesday.”

“Sounds good. We’ll be ready.”

“Hey, I saw where you won at Lawrenceburg. Way to go, man. Guys were talking about it at the RiverWatch.”

“It’s the best race I’ve had in a long time, man. Almost as good as Daytona.”

“Which time?” They both laughed.

Thad said, “I can’t wait to introduce you to Arley and the guys. You’ll like all of ‘em.”

Daryl said in a serious voice, “We aren’t going to drink any beer, are we?”

Thad laughed so hard that Kate gave him a look. He took the hint and retreated inside. He and Daryl worked out the details. He couldn’t promise, but he hoped to stay for all four races. Thad doubted that but it didn’t matter. There would be another Tarheel in the house.

Wednesday, noon, found Thad and company sitting under the canopy of Arley’s RV at the Terre Haute Action Track. With help from Rhonda, Arley was grilling hamburgers and some hot dogs for Tyrus. Kate, Thad, Louise and Daryl sat in lawn chairs engaged in idle chatter, the weather, North Carolina, racing NASCAR and USAC. Thad mostly listened, pleased that his friends were friends with each other. Every so often Daryl would give Thad a look, which Thad knew that it said, “Man, this is great. Glad I made the trip.” That was good enough for Thad.

Kate spoke up. “I have a question for everybody, not just Thad and me.”

Thad gave her a quizzical look. “What is it?”

“Well, do any of you give much thought about the future? Like five or ten years from now?”

The others exchanged looks that said, where did THAT come from?

Kate waited. She was a bit surprised when Tyrus spoke up first.

“I hope to own my own sprint car team in five years. If I can make it happen I hope to race with the World of Outlaws.”

Kate loved it. “That’s the way to chase your dream, Tyrus.”

Rhonda was next. “I think that I’ll be thinking a lot harder about retiring in five years, certainly before ten years.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Mind if I join you?” Kate’s comment brought laughter.

Arley took a break from the grill and said, “I hope Louise and I are doing what we’re doing right now, but I expect it will be at a slower pace.”

“Will you sell your half of the car to someone else, Arley?”

Arley was briefly taken aback at Kate’s question, but replied, “I’m not sure. That might depend on Thaddeus here.”

Thad noticed everyone looking at him. “Okay, I’ll play. I can’t see myself doing this in five years. Like Arley I’ll cut back on the constant travel. I imagine I’ll stay home more, having you guys over to sit on the dock, drink beer and make sure nobody steals the mountain.” He paused. “I’ll probably go to a race now and then, but I can see myself stepping back at some point, but not yet.

Thad looked at Kate. “What was your point in asking such a question, dear?”

Kate said, “I wanted to know how your thoughts matched up with mine.”

Louise had been quiet, but now she spoke. “So did they? Arley and I are on the same page. This traveling around eventually takes its toll.” She looked at Tyrus. “You, on the other hand, have most of it in front of you.” She smiled. “If I envy anyone here, it’s you, Tyrus.”

Tyrus almost blushed. The others smiled in agreement. “I’m going to get in line. The pits ought to be open soon.” He got up before anyone could tell him it was still early.

The group fell silent with the only sounds coming from the other campers. The others had their own thoughts, but Thad was starting to think racing. He had won on Sunday night at the ‘burg, but that seemed so long ago. He found himself wanting to make it two straight.

That was, for Thad, what it was all about. You reach one goal; you set another. A few minutes later, he and Arley got in the golf cart and headed for the pits with Arley serving as taxi driver.

The Action Track waited patiently.

Chapter 68: From Zero to Hero

Brad Caplinger gave himself the nickname “The Gunslinger.” He fancied himself as an “outlaw” racer and seemed to seek out controversy. If he wasn’t feuding with at least one of his competitors, he felt compelled to invent a feud. The funny thing was that Brad was a pretty good racer. In his six years of running with USAC he had racked up twenty four wins and a near miss at a championship. He reveled in the divisiveness he created. Most of his competitors were not fond of him.

Thad didn't pay Brad much mind; he more or less ignored the Arizona native. This irked Brad to no end. He had tried over the past few months to antagonize the older racer, calling him a rich NASCAR star who couldn’t outrun poor boys like himself. Thad had heard it all before. There were a few NASCAR guys he had raced with who were prime to shooting off their mouths. Thad figured they were all PR hungry and he didn’t pay attention to them either. When asked his opinion, he would say something like “they have a First Amendment right. Let ‘em use it.”

Rolling into Lawrenceburg for night Three of Sprint Week, things started going wrong right away. Thad’s Camaro had a flat tire. Farrell stubbed his toe getting out of the truck. Arley was pulled over for speeding–in his RV. And Kate’s laptop was the victim of a virus.

After unloading, the bad luck continued. Tyrus had accidentally mounted the front tires backwards, left to right, etc. That was fixed and Rhonda drew a 76 for Thad’s qualifying run; he was 34th of 37 cars to take time on a dried up track. Thad qualified 25th, barely missing the cutoff for starting in the first three rows of his heat.

Their luck began to change after his heat race. Thad just missed transferring to the feature, but the car felt pretty good. But then came the B Main. Thad was in a transfer spot when he spun on the third lap. He restarted on the tail and came back to finish sixth, good enough to start 19th in the feature.

By now the sun had gone down and the track had received some extra water before the feature. Tim Montgomery waved the green flag and Thad immediately knew that, once again, Farrell and Tyrus had given him a great handling car. He steadily worked his way to the front. With five laps to go, he was third after a caution knocked out the two leaders. Thad had been gaining on the cars in front of him and believed he had a good chance at winning an ISW feature. The green flag waved and Thad went to work, quickly getting around Cosmo and…Brad Caplinger. By the time the checkered flag waved, Thad was leading by a half straightaway.

He was happily surprised to see that Preston had finished second. Mr. Caplinger was third. After the winner’s interview Thad was getting his picture taken. Preston was next, followed by Brad. Both the winner and runnerup were talking to each other and accepting congratulations when they heard some boos mixed with laughter. Someone said, “There’s Brad doing Brad things.”As it turned out, Brad was complaining about the first two finishers “teaming up” on him.

Back in the pits, there was the usual crowd hanging around the winner. A certain few were hanging close in case there was an altercation of some sort. But that wasn’t going to happen. Thad didn’t even know what Brad had said and neither did Preston until Sparky told him.

None of it–the flat tire, Farrell’s stubbed toe, Arley’s speeding ticket, Kate’s balky laptop, Tyrus’s mounting the wrong tires, and Rhonda’s drawing a high qualifying number–mattered at the moment. The Tarheel Racing Team had won their first Indiana Sprint Week feature.

Thad was mightily pleased. This had been one of his goals when he made up his mind to go sprint car racing. He would enjoy it for a while, but he knew that there were still four more races. He wanted to win some of them too.

Chapter 67: Kokomo Does Disappoint (Thad)

Night Two of Indiana Sprint Week turned out to be a disappointment for Thad, especially after it had begun so well.

The tiny band of gypsies plus Arley and Louise with their RV arrived early at the Kokomo Speedway. The atmosphere was relaxed for the time being as Arley and Louise brought more food than the Tarheel Race Team could ever eat. But very little food was wasted as word got around that the rich former NASCAR car owner had brought a bunch of food to share.

This was gratifying as it was a chance for Thad to meet more people that he raced with or against, backmarkers, race winners alike. By now he knew some by sight if not their names. There were a couple of guys Thad had encountered on the track with less than happy results. But after a pleasant conversation with them, Thad reflected that these guys weren’t necessarily out to wreck the rich NASCAR star; they were trying to prove to him and themselves they could race a bit as well. Thad appreciated that. With one, he jokingly said, “ Take it easy on me tonight.” The guy laughed and said the same thing as he walked away, holding a ham and cheese sandwich.

Thad sat back in his lawn chair and watched the scene. How different it was from what he had been doing for nearly twenty years. Right now it was casual. Drivers, for the most part, didn’t hide in the back of the haulers or in the truck cabs. They were accessible. Most were friendly. Practically all were polite at least and even those who weren’t always polite had their good side. Thad decided, no matter what, this was a great experience for him. It was July and he still didn’t need to think about next year. It was all about enjoying the moment.

Rhonda and Kate drew a 23 for Thad’s turn to qualify. The car felt perfect to him as he nearly set a new track record for non-wing sprints, a blistering 12.589 on his second lap.

The good times continued as Thad easily won his heat race. Very little was changed on the car for the 30 lap feature. Thad started fourth with Preston Janssen beside him. Tom Hansing waved the green flag and Thad barreled into the first turn with 22 of his best friends. Soon enough he found out that he could run high or low. By lap thirteen Thad was second behind Jerald Jarvis with Preston in third. Both passed Jarvis on lap sixteen and Thad began to pull away from Preston. With six laps to go, his lead was a half straightaway. Thad was far from counting his money; all he knew was that the car had been running as well as it had ever been. It almost seemed too good to be true.

In the recent past Kokomo had not been kind to Thad, despite his love for the track and the people there. Improbably, it happened again. Thad approached a pair of lapped cars who were having their own battle for position. He had no way of knowing that Preston was gaining on him, even though Thad had a safe lead. Tom held up five fingers for Thad and he was tempted to start counting the money. It was a good thing he didn’t because the two cars ahead of him tangled in turn one. Along came Thad with nowhere to go and he spun to miss the wreck. That was bad enough but Preston, too, had nowhere to go and slammed into Thad. It was a four-car wreck with three of the four getting upside down. Thad was the “lucky” one. At least he would be able to restart the race, despite his misfortune.

Jerald inherited the lead and he hung on for the win. Lane Rasmussen was second and USAC rookie Fred Osterman was third. Thad came from the tail on the restart to finish thirteenth.

A night that had been perfect turned sour in an instant. All Thad could do was shrug his shoulder and accept a cold beer from Arley. He sat in the lawn chair and offered up a rueful smile as he sipped his beer listening to Kate, Louise and Rhonda chat. Preston and Sparky stopped by and joined Thad with a couple of cold ones. Thad decided he was having fun and he began to prepare for Lawrenceburg in his mind as Tyrus assisted Farrell in loading up the car.

Chapter 66: The Grind Begins

The Tarheel Race Team was as ready as they would ever be for Indiana Sprint Week. Kate had been schooled about how the competition would be enhanced even more than it was during the rest of the season. People raced each other harder, with more intensity. There was more on the line, both money and the acclaim. Thad was about to find out that Sprint Week was different when one was in the race as opposed to watching the race.

The Gas City/I-69 Speedway was the scene of the first night of Indiana Sprint Week. The team left North Vernon at eleven a.m. Tyrus drove the hauler as usual with Farrell and Rhonda on board. Thad and Kate trailed in the Camaro. Lunch was at one of the truck stops at Whiteland.

Despite the usual Indiana interstate road construction, the gang of five rolled into the track’s parking lot just past 2:30. There was a line of haulers in front of them, so they waited—except for Thad, who parked the Camaro as close to the pits as he could. A half hour later, everyone, even Thad, began unloading the car and everything else from the hauler, except for things they hoped they wouldn’t need later.

Rhonda and Kate went to the pit shack to draw Thad’s qualifying number. The draw was pretty much a matter of luck, and it could make or break someone’s night depending on track conditions during time trials. Kate said that could put a lot of pressure on the person doing the drawing, Rhonda laughed and said, you think?

The two ladies drew the number 18 for Thad. This meant he would qualify early, 12th of the 51 cars entered. The track was very fast with Jerald Jarvis setting a new track record of 11.509. Thad’s best time wasn’t too shabby. His 11.644 was the fourth fastest, putting him in the fourth heat, outside the third row. Preston Janssen would be starting next to Thad. Their friendship was about to be tested.

There were four decent cars in front of Thad and Preston; both knew they had their work cut out for them. Preston discovered that his car had a bad push. Running the bottom wasn’t working out so he tried to get to the top groove, hoping for better handling. Not a bad idea, but in doing so, Preston barely touched Thad’s left rear tire, sending him for a half-spin. The yellow didn’t come out as Thad kept going, but he had lost positions and his chance of moving directly to the feature was shot.

Neither made the feature and both were upset as they came back to the pits, but for different reasons. Preston was angry with himself mostly. He had been the one who had adjusted the car to make it handle like a pig. He thought he may have touched Thad’s car, but that wasn’t registering right now. For his part, Thad was perturbed at his friend. He knew it wasn’t a deliberate move, but Preston was a better driver than that. Tyrus approached Thad with a suggestion.

“Thad, do you want me to have a word with Janssen?”

Thad looked at Tyrus for a moment until Tyrus began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Finally he spoke. “I don’t think so, Ty. I would think he’d know I’m not thrilled with that move.” Thad looked around the pit. “I see a lot of good cars that will be in the B. And I don’t have a provisional to fall back on.”

“I get it, Thad. Maybe we can talk to Preston later.”

“Good idea, bud.” Thad grinned. “You keep thinking, boy. That’s what you’re good at.”

Tyrus laughed. He ambled over to Farrell and spoke to him for a minute. Farrell grunted and nodded at the younger man. He was stopped by Darla, who wondered what was up. Quietly and quickly, he explained what happened.

Kate had seen the incident. She was starting to see that this could be an activity that produced strong emotions. If she was upset, she could imagine how Thad felt. When Thad seemed to be a bit more approachable, she went over to him.

“Thad, just based on what I saw, that was classy on your part.”

Thad grunted. “Well, it’s irritating but I’ve learned that the best way to handle things sometimes is to keep cool and wait.”

“To retaliate?”

Thad looked at her. “No.”

“Well, I didn’t think so, but I have the tiniest bit of doubt. I’m sorry.”

Thad looked at and grinned this time. “It’s okay, Kate. Given the look I must have given you, it was a fair question.” He paused. “You must be a pretty good judge of character?”

Kate laughed. “I’m not too sure of that but for me it’s part of the job of observing students as well as teaching them.”

The silence between them was marked by a lack of tension. Sitting in the lawn chairs while Farrell and Tyrus busied themselves was as close to relaxing Thad would do all night.

Naturally, it wasn’t going to last. Soon enough, Thad climbed into the car as Kate wiped off the drying mud on the nerf bars. It was time to race his way into the A.

Anyone expecting a renewal of wheel banging between Thad and Preston would be disappointed. But they fought hard for second place behind second year sprinter Sam Delaney who ran off to a huge lead. Thad prevailed and would start tenth in the feature.

Thad, Farrell and Tyrus were pleasantly surprised when Kate sprang into action as Thad rolled into his pit spot. She took Thad’s helmet from him, then gave it back when he got out of the car. Next, she began wiping mud off the car before the others could even get started. Farrell had a big grin as she asked him if the tires needed changing.

“Here, Kate. Let’s have a look at the right rear.” They walked to the car and Farrell had a close look at the tire, explaining things to Kate. While Thad signed a little boy’s t-shirt, Tyrus came back from the concession stand with two drinks for him and Thad. He gave one to Thad and saw the signal from Farrell. Tyrus rolled a shiny new right rear out to Farrell and Kate. As they watched, Tyrus changed the right rear in a couple of minutes. Thad’s car was race-ready. After he finished his bottle of water, Thad eased into the cockpit, getting ready for his first Indiana Sprint Week feature. As driver and car were pushed into position, Tyrus eased the four-wheeler behind the Larrabee car’s back nerf bar. Preston and Sparky rolled by and Thad waved at them. Then he felt the now-familiar bump and Tyrus pushed him to the staging area just off turn four. Tyrus kept going as the field of 23 spread out around the track, ready for a push truck.

It was almost time. The cars were started one by one and formed into rows of two. At the signal from the radio, they shifted into the four-wide formation. Thad hugged the very outside of the track, giving room for the three cars to his left. With the crowd cheering, Thad and his competitors waved at the crowd before reverting back to the two-wide lineup. Flagman Tom Hansing gave them the one-to-go signal. One couldn’t see the tension, but certainly one could feel it, from the youngest fan to each of the 23 starters.

The front row came around turn four and Tom frantically waved the green flag as an explosion of sound filled the northeastern Indiana night.

Cosmo Novak jumped out to the early lead and was looking like a winner until the yellow flag waved with 12 laps completed. On the restart, second place Caleb Jankowski found some speed in the middle of the turns and pressured Cosmo relentlessly, hoping to force the veteran into a rare mistake.

Caleb didn’t cause Cosmo to slip up, but one trip on the cushion resulted in Cosmo nearly spinning with nine laps to go. Caleb took the lead and now Cosmo had to deal with Preston Janssen, who had started ninth and had advanced steadily through the field. Preston also passed Mr. Novak and set sail for the leader, falling short by a mere two car lengths at the end. Cosmo had to settle for a disappointing third while Royal Pennington edged Thad for fourth.

Thad coasted into his pit with a smile on his face. He looked at Kate and Rhonda and said, “Believe it or not, that was fun!” He had reason to be happy. He had recovered from a near disaster early on to take fifth in his first Sprint Week feature.

Later, Thad and company left Gas City for their favorite motel in Marion for a short night’s rest before heading to Kokomo on Saturday night. He was a happy camper but knew how quickly that could change. It was, after all, the nature of Indiana Sprint Week.

Chapter 65: Danger Lurks

Thad, Farrell and Tyrus all knew about the dangers of racing at any level. Short track racing may have been more dangerous than racing at the highest level, especially if there was an accident. It wasn’t true at the tracks in Indiana where Thad and company raced, but Thad had heard and seen his share of horror stories.

The Gas City crew was one of the best. And midway through the sprint car feature, they had the chance to show why they were a good and dedicated crew.

Zen Woodward was, on the surface, the unlikeliest of racers. A child of parents who embraced a restless, drifting, unstable lifestyle, Zen was raised by his parents, a grandmother, an uncle and aunt, and, for about a month, a foster home. Despite this, he grew up to be a determined young man. Like racers before and after him, he was a California boy who moved to Indiana with a dream to race.

Settled in the Hoosier state, his fellow racers soon discovered that this kid was the real deal. With a lot of hard work, desire, ability and a friendly demeanor, Zen was able to put together a car, largely with used parts. Soon he began turning heads and before long he landed in a good ride with a sharp-eyed owner who could spot talent and quality. The duo enjoyed success, winning races and gaining respect. Race announcers dubbed him the “Flying Hippie” after news spread of Zen’s upbringing. It was an unfair nickname in a way, but Zen didn’t mind. He was, in no particular order, racing, winning and having fun.

Then came the accident. It was another case of one driver crashing and the next one in line having no place to go. Zen hit the stalled car of Jeremy Greider and took a nasty ride on lap 17 of the sprint car feature. The emergency crew was on the job and eased Zen out of the seat onto the stretcher and into the ambulance, which made a beeline for Marion General Hospital.

A few minutes later, the yellow flag was waved and the remaining racers put the accident in the backs of their minds. Thad came from 12th to win. In the post-race interview, he spoke of his competitor Zen.

“The young man is a racer and a fighter. If there is a chance for him to recover from whatever his injuries are, I’d not bet against him. Tonight let’s all say a prayer for Zen and the medical team that is working with him. Thanks.”

Later, Thad and Kate helped the crew load the car on the trailer. No one spoke. Kate noticed this and was surprised by her own reaction to the evening’s events. A few weeks ago she would have been horrified and not quite hysterical. But she had been around the danger enough to learn how to deal with most any kind of adversity.

The team went to Kokomo, where they would spend a lazy Saturday and part of Sunday before racing at Kokomo. This would be the last race before Indiana Sprint Week. It wasn’t on Kate’s mind so much. But one could be sure that Thad, Farrell and Tyrus were very aware of what lay ahead. Thad was as close to nervous as he had been all season. He knew it would be quite the grind. The intensity would be turned up a few notches. People would race each other harder than usual, if that was possible (it was).

Saturday came and brought an afternoon thunderstorm with it. Thankfully, it was over fairly quickly and by the afternoon the sun came out. Kate persuaded Thad to take her to a used book store and then persuaded him to buy a book about General/President Grant. After a walk in the park they met Farrell, Rhonda and Tyrus at the Kokomo hangout for local and visiting racers.

While waiting to place their order, Cosmo visited the table and shared the news that Zen was “pretty beat up” but his prognosis for recovery was good. Farrell asked about insurance. Cosmo didn’t know. All agreed that they would see about drivers collecting money at Kokomo on Sunday night between races.

Kate marveled at this. She was learning that racers can be the best people.

It was a comparatively long drive up to Kokomo, which meant Thad and/or Kate had plenty of time to think and/or talk. Little could they know this conversation would have far reaching effects.

Like many conversations, it started with an innocent, but curious, question, seemingly out of the blue part of left field.

He looked at her for a brief moment, wondering where that came from. Rather than ask her, he tried to answer the question.

“Of course she was pretty but she was easily as kind to me. She was the first girl who paid attention to me.”

Kate considered this. “How did she feel about your racing? Supportive? Opposed?”

“Doubtful at first, but she had a way of drawing the truth–or at least my inner thoughts–out of me. I told her how much racing meant to me and how I was able to put aside the dangerous part of it.” Thad was itching to ask her what was bringing this on but decided it could wait.

“It took a while, maybe a few races she went to, and she got used to it. At some point I had to tell her the reality of racing. I wanted to advance to the highest level of stock car racing and that meant NASCAR. This meant that there would be times I’d be gone for a while from home. Unless it was an emergency, there would be times she would be second to racing, but I’d always return home, at least for a while.”

“It was very difficult for her at first. She wasn’t sure if she wanted a life with me, though we loved each other. But I think once she saw how important it was to me, she began to accept it. We got married in January of my rookie year at NASCAR’s highest level and she never looked back.”

Silence for a minute that seemed longer to Thad. Finally, he decided to ask her why all the questions.

Kate said, “I’m trying to find out how Dina handled your passion. There are times I’m not sure of how I feel about your racing–and you, too.”

“Maybe. I’m struggling more than I should with how I feel about you.” Kate took a deep breath. “I almost wish Dina was here to tell me.”

Thad had to laugh. “I’m not sure how much help she would be.” He turned serious. “Is it okay if I try to tell you how I feel?”

“I don’t know what love is anymore. I mean, I’m not sure of the definition, but I can try to describe how I feel about you.” It was Thad’s turn to take a deep breath as they crossed over I-74.

“I like being around you. I like how you seem to be coping with an activity that is totally foreign to you. With each weekend, you seem to be more at ease when we’re at the track. You are likable and the guys and Rhonda think you’re the greatest. You have learned when to leave me alone and when to speak up. All that means a lot to me.

“But does it mean I want to get married again? I’m not so sure. I’ve given some thought about what we do in October. I’m not sure if I’ll do this again next year. The original plan was to try it this summer and then decide and I haven’t decided yet. Where you fit in with that, well, I’m not sure of that either. But I guess some of that’s up to you.”

More silence as Thad figured on stopping at Rushville to have lunch. He wondered what she was thinking. He cared a lot for Kate but was it enough for her? Inwardly he shrugged. He figured that he would find out at some point between now–mid-June–and early October.

Kate was having her own thoughts. She was somewhat surprised that they seemed to be on the same page in a lot of their thoughts. She enjoyed being around him, especially away from the track. But when he was racing she had learned to be quiet for the most part and marvel at all that went on as the evening progressed. It was foreign to her but, being an educator at heart, she found that this was quite the learning experience. The people, with the unfortunate exception of Willie the Wanker, had been great. “Hoosier Hospitality” was no myth in her mind.

Did she want to marry Thad? Like him, she wasn’t so sure. Would she want to do this again next summer? She had her doubts but she wasn’t going to close the door just yet. Kate looked out the window of the Camaro at the Indiana countryside and wryly thought to herself that the answers to her questions weren’t buried in the many cornfields.

They stopped to eat at a Mom-and-Pop restaurant in downtown Rushville. To their surprise the waitress remembered them from the last time they had eaten there. Thad left a $10 tip. It was the waitress’s turn to be surprised.

Neither of them said any more about their conversation that day. Kate knew that Thad was mentally getting ready for the challenge that Gas City presented. It was a good decision to leave him alone, because he had a frustrating time of it until the feature. Thad won the feature after starting 12th.

Chapter 41: Uneven Debut
With the garage located in North Vernon, Thad found a house to rent. The team met at the
garage, on the outskirts of town, and left at two o’clock. Sparky and his team stopped by on their
way to Lawrenceburg. Pleasantries were exchanged and the mini-caravan occupied U.S. 50 all
the way to “da ‘burg.” Darla Sparks had brought enough sandwiches to feed ten people. Just as
they were getting ready to leave, Rodney appeared. He had brought plenty of drinks, including
beer for after the races. Sparky reminded Rodney to save a few brews for everyone and please
don’t drink it all. With a laugh, the group headed east.
Thad was a bit nervous, but in his mind, it was the “good” kind of nervousness. This was a
totally new experience for him in so many ways. Instead of driving his car, he rode in the hauler
with Tyrus driving and Farrell taking a nap in the back. The hauler held all the tools and both
cars, plus a four-wheeler to push the car to the staging area. It had very little advertising on the
trailer, just a small decal on the side saying “Tarheel Race Team.”
As they rolled into the Dearborn County Fairgrounds, Thad texted Kate, saying, “Hello from
Lawrenceburg, Indiana. Here we go.” Almost immediately the answer came, “Good luck. Hope
you stay safe, do well and have fun.” Kate added a heart emoji. Thad stared at his phone for a
few seconds, then turned toward Tyrus as they pulled up to the pit “shack.” Thad figured that
Tyrus or Farrell could be his guide for the evening. As they exited the tractor, Farrell woke up
and joined them as they bought pit passes. He had already taken care of whatever hoops that
USAC needed them to jump through. One of the USAC people stared at Thad, thinking that the
guy looked vaguely familiar. The long hair and beard caused him to doubt himself and he said
nothing. A colleague had noticed Thad’s name on a paper and knew who he was, but thankfully
kept quiet.
Trailed by Sparky and his team, Tyrus guided the hauler to the pits, parking close to the tiny
concession stand. Thad looked to his left and could only see the wall in turns three and four. He
had heard the track’s banking was steep, and now he really believed. Everyone exited the
hauler and began unloading the main car and some of the equipment. At Farrell’s suggestion,
Thad walked to the track entrance to get a look at a three-eighths high-banked dirt oval. If
anything, it reminded him of a smaller version of Bristol. Since his visit to Lawrenceburg last
summer, Thad could have sworn the track had gotten bigger somehow. He took one last look
and walked to his car. It was time to heat up the engine and Thad climbed into the seat, waited
to be pushed away from the trailer. Tyrus and the four-wheeler pushed Thad into a line of cars
waiting for a push truck. Thad’s turn came and he felt the bump that would soon become second
nature. The switch was flipped and the engine came to life. Thad idled down a designated lane,
then went back to his pit space.
Thad’s “secret” was out. At the USAC trailer on a big screen Thad’s name was among the list of
entrants, 37 in all. Try as he might to blend in among the others during the drivers’ meeting,
Thad with his mop of gray hair stood out from a group that was mostly under the age of 30. He

wasn’t bothered by the lack of attention. Later, when fans would invade the pits, he would not be
as fortunate.
The meeting concluded with a short prayer by one of the USAC workers and Thad ambled back
to his team, accompanied by Preston. Both friends would be in the second hot lap group. Thad
was scheduled to be the tenth qualifier.
He found himself on the road leading up the hill to the track. The group would get three green
flag laps. Thad’s car was pushed onto the track and now he could feel the banking coming out
of turn four. All cars, including his, were slowly circling the track. The flagman made sure that
they were evenly spaced before waving the green.
While the cars were spreading out, the USAC announcer introduced each driver. She said with
as much excitement she could muster, “Driving the mostly white number 95, sponsored by
Rory’s Pizza Place and by Arley Sebastian, a three-time Daytona 500 winner, it’s none other
than Thad Larrabee!” The crowd roared. Thad could hear most of the roar, but paid little
attention. He was more concerned with not screwing up.
Thad eased the throttle, gradually gaining speed. He planned to follow the car ahead of him as
best he could. That car, number 55, hugged the bottom groove in the turns and Thad was
content to do that for the first two laps. The white flag waved and he went into turn one just a
few feet from the wall. Coming out of turn two, Thad gunned it and was surprised to pull
alongside 55. He passed the car in turn three on the outside. As near as he could tell, there was
no other car behind him as the checkered and yellow flags waved.
The turn three exit at Lawrenceburg is tricky. Drivers who have figured it out head for the bottom
groove coming out of turn two in order to exit with little difficulty. Thad either didn’t know this or
forgot. He saw his mistake in time and quickly decided to make another lap and try again.
In the pits, Farrell was smiling. Thad noticed this and was instantly happy. Farrell said, “Nice job,
rookie. Fifth quick in a good group. Great beginning.”
“Thanks, Farrell. You guys had a little bit to do with it, too.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Farrell laughed at Thad. “Now, a couple of minor adjustments and you’ll be ready
to qualify. Did you have to fight the car? Too loose or tight?”
“I’ve no idea, Farrell. You know that.”
Farrell laughed a little louder and motioned to Tyrus. “Hey, kid. Check the air pressure for all four
here for the old man.”
Tyrus didn’t miss a beat. “Which one?”

Both Farrell and Thad laughed.
Twenty minutes later, Thad was in line to qualify. Just before he went out, Tyrus signaled him
that the earlier qualifiers had used the high groove. Thad nodded. He felt the bump and he
squeezed the throttle. By the time he reached turn one, he was close to full speed. Thad tried to
keep the car as straight as possible as he negotiated turn two. He came close to the wall
coming out of the turn, but didn’t let up on the throttle and screamed down the backstretch. With
a flick of the steering wheel, Thad set the car up to slide and glide through turn three, about
three feet from the wall. He used the banking to launch off turn four to the start/finish line. He
barely saw the white flag as he tried mightily to duplicate his first lap. Thad was on his way to
doing just that until he got a little sideways coming out of turn four. He didn’t spin; he recovered
enough to straighten the car as it approached the checkered flag. His second lap was slower
and wouldn’t count. But his first lap was tenth quickest.
With some free time before his heat, Thad found a lawn chair in the hauler and sat down. Farrell
came over and asked a question about the handling. He knew that he was speaking a different
kind of racing language than what Thad could understand. He also knew that Thad was the type
of racer who wasn’t fussy about setups and such. This had been shared with Farrell by Arley a
few days ago. Farrell told Thad what they had done to the car. Thad just smiled and said thanks.
He was starting outside second row of the second heat. He had brought out a thermos full of
decaf coffee. Thad was content to do some people watching. This made for a humorous
situation as several people walked by Team Tarheel’s outfit, trying not to stare at Thad. A brave
few said hello. Thad was unfailingly polite.
The second heat took a couple of laps to line up. Thad was in the middle of a nine-car field; this
would be his first laps at speed with other cars on the track. The eight other cars were complete
strangers. Thad knew about the invert, which meant the quickest cars in the lineup were
immediately behind him. The green flag waved and Thad immediately committed to the high
side. This was his first mistake. The track had changed enough to move the fast groove to the
bottom. Thad was passed by both third row cars and now he was two spots away from
transferring to the feature. And that was where he finished, sixth. His next race would be the
semi-feature. Twelve laps and he would be starting fourth.
It was an angry driver who pulled into Team Tarheel’s space after the second heat. Tyrus and
Farrell gave him plenty of room for a few minutes. Five minutes later, Farrell approached Thad,
who was sitting in the lawn chair.
“This ain’t all bad, man. You get twelve more laps of seat time. And that’s exactly what you
need. Those last few laps, it looked like you were faster than that car ahead of you.”
Thad’s voice was a monotone. “Farrell, I was afraid to try and pass that guy. I know I was faster.
But I didn’t want to take a chance on wrecking him and maybe me too.”
“I get it, bud. Seat time. Get enough of that and you’ll feel like passing King Kong. No worries.” Farrell walked toward the concession stand. Tyrus was checking tire pressure. At least fewer
people were staring now. The night was getting cooler. Thad drank another cup of coffee before
going into the trailer for a few tear-offs. Farrell went back to the concession stand.
Thad had a better showing in the B Main. Another lap and he might have won. As it was, he
finished second. For the feature he would be starting in the fifth row.
Back to the lawn chair went Thad. Back to the concession stand went Farrell. Tyrus was talking
to a couple of young ladies. Farrell came back from the concession stand and was finishing off a
hot dog, unofficially his third. Tyrus said good-by to the ladies and began taking the right rear tire
off the car. With a little help from Farrell, Tyrus finished that job as Farrell turned his attention to
the shocks at each corner of the car. Thad debated having another cup of coffee and decided
against it.
For whatever reason Thad felt out of sorts. Then it hit him. Kate. He checked his phone to see if
he had a message from her. She had answered him five minutes after he had sent her a
greeting. “Hi, Thad. A slow Saturday night in Brevard. Please keep me posted if you can.
Thanks. Kate.” She had added two hearts at the end. Thad smiled to himself.
He looked around. Sparky’s team was parked next to the Tarheel team. Preston was settling into
the seat. He looked at Thad and gave him a thumbs up. Thad waved back and put his phone
away. He climbed into the seat, thankful that people seemed to be ignoring him. Tyrus handed
him his helmet after Thad was strapped in. Farrell waited patiently on the four-wheeler for Tyrus
and one of his girl friends to roll the car backwards so Farrell could take over. He pushed the car
to the ramp and kept going. USAC had directed the cars be pushed out to the track and be
spread out for the push trucks to do their jobs more efficiently. Before that happened, the
starting lineup was introduced. Farrell had been told to take Thad to turn two. He waited in the
car as Farrell and the other four-wheel drivers went back to the pits. Farrell and Tyrus
assembled the equipment they might need if Thad was involved in an incident. When Thad was
introduced, he could hear the announcer and crowd. He was surprised that the fans had made
that much noise.
All Thad knew was he was starting in the fifth row. He was on the outside of the row and number
18 was next to him. Thad found the 18 car, having no idea who it was. The car was covered with
big and small decals. The green flag was about to wave; all of the preliminaries were over, the
introductions, the lining up, the four wide salute to the fans. It was time.
The green lights came on, the green flag waved and the thundering of 22 finely tuned engines
roared in the Lawrenceburg night. Thad stayed even with the 18 as they entered the first turn.
But then he felt a hard bump and he was spinning toward the wall. Somehow, everyone missed
him and he barely touched the wall. Thad was livid. He would want to know who tapped him, but
that would have to wait. The safety crew appeared immediately and checked for damage. They
righted the car and a push truck appeared. Thad restarted on the tail spot. He was still angry but it was an icy controlled anger. It had served him well in NASCAR. More than once he had been
spun only to come back and either win a race or at least finish ahead of the car who spun him.
The race director came on the radio to remind Thad that he was on the tail. Thad started to
reply but remembered it was a one-way radio. It was just as well. The flag man waved the green
and Thad took off. There were 30 laps to go, plenty of time in one sense. Most of the cars in
front of Thad were hugging the bottom. The top looked good to him and he used it to good
advantage. Thad was getting better with each lap at wrestling these beasts. He was one of the
few trying the top groove early on and Thad passed four cars in the first five laps.
This pattern continued throughout the race, which was slowed every few laps by either a caution
or a red flag. During the red, crew members were allowed to come out and make minor
adjustments. Farrell came out with the air compressor in case a tire was going down. Thad
asked what position he was in. Farrell hollered, “Fifteenth, I think. You’ve passed a few cars,
man.” Thad asked who spun him. Farrell hesitated before answering, “Number twenty-nine. The
defending champ. He’s been known to do that.” Farrell could see Thad’s eyes and it wasn’t a
pleasant sight. “Don’t do anything dumb, bud.” Thad nodded and waved.
The race restarted and Thad was moving up. Some fans noticed and were cheering him on.
Thad preferred the high groove but he had no problem going to the low side. With five laps to
go, he saw the number 29 ahead of him. Now Thad Larrabee was on a mission. He reeled in
the 29, which seemed to be struggling. Thad had been told that tire wear could be a factor at
Lawrenceburg. Coming out of turn four to the white flag, Thad swept around 29 at the finish line.
He made sure he was almost completely past and then chopped down on the 29 going into the
first turn. The 29 overreacted and spun out, bringing out a yellow. As the cars circled the track
under yellow, the driver of 29 flipped Thad the bird. Thad saw it coming and gave it back. He
had dealt with much worse.
The race would end with a green/white/checkered. Thad restarted eleventh and passed one guy
he remembered from last year, Cosmo Novak. This gave him tenth place after restarting 23rd
after his early spin. Ironically, it was where he had started the race. Casual fans probably
missed his recovery but several other people, be they fans or crew members, did notice.
Thad pulled into the space and was met with a fired-up Farrell. It was the most emotion he had
seen out of his chief mechanic. If that wasn’t enough, Tyrus jumped high enough to click his
heels. Thad was impressed—and jealous. It had been quite a night. He had learned much. Thad
thought, for the first time, that he might have some fun and do well, maybe even win a race.
Thad wasn’t the only one who had learned a lot. The top guys in USAC had learned as well.
This NASCAR guy might be a problem.