My Family Loss Brings Forth a Fond NASCAR Memory

It is May of 2002. Memorial Day and the big NASCAR race weekend have arrived in the Charlotte, NC area. The weather is hot and sunny, typical for that time of year. One could just as easily head to the pool for a day as head to the speedway.

I am only eight months removed from my native Connecticut and now living near Lake Norman, roughly a half-hour north of Lowe’s Motor Speedway. All the hustle and bustle, all the excitement and activity, is an absolute gold mine for a guy like me. Race team haulers, motorhomes, visiting race fans, pit crew and media members filled the streets and the surrounding acreage of the mile-and-a-half oval.

You see when I moved to North Carolina that previous autumn I was chasing my dream of working as a professional racing mechanic. I had given my blood, sweat, and tears to the short track world for many seasons and there comes a time when you must follow your dream. I loaded everything I owned into a moving van and drove myself south to an apartment in a town where I didn’t know anyone and had no job.

I knocked on race shop doors and handed out resumes until I broke into the business. It was an exciting, and admittedly a little scary, time.

As I tried to survive and make my goals become tangible I remember the reality checking, humbling experience of eating white rice and tap water for dinner. Not by choice, that is simply all I had and all I could afford at the time. I was focused and determined to reach out for my dreams and hang on.

This didn’t come without the help and love from those closest to me. My future wife Michelle, brother Stephen and my sister Erin were among those who gave me support in a figurative and literal sense. Eventually I landed full time on one of NASCAR’s teams but I did not do it alone and don’t want to think about how things might have wound up without the good people helping me.

My first hands-on work came with Brad Bennett and his American Speed Association Late Model. Bennett was also from Connecticut and when I knocked on his door looking for a job he gave me one. But with no pay. He had the money to keep his ASA car running but not enough for any employees. I accepted as an opportunity to work, learn, and meet people. Brad helped me get a paying job during the day so I could race with him on the weekends and work in his shop at night.

Bennett was renting a shop from Derrike Cope when Cope decided to step out of the television studio, where he was often seen at the time, and back into the cockpit. With Brad’s group already in place Derrike had his shop and track crew already under his own roof. Timing is everything and I was in the right spot to go from job seeker to then Winston Cup mechanic in a few months. The team’s debut was the Open preliminary race to the All Star spectacle each May in Concord. A successful run in bringing the car home undamaged was the inspiration to try a qualifying attempt in the following week’s 600 miler.

With the excitement that was happening around me, my big sister wanted to see what it was all about. Being a financial advisor from Hartford, Erin was well aware of the business side and marketing power of motorsports. She just really didn’t know much about the actual racing side of things.

Her long and frustrating Friday holiday weekend traffic-filled drive eventually brought her to my doorstep roughly 750 miles from where she started. Her thin frame hinted at her deteriorating health that she had bravely fought for years. Her sophisticated, classy wardrobe hid her body’s true appearance.

Erin had a bright smile to make a room full of people happy. A hairdo of red, curly, long flowing full locks that made her easily spotted in a crowd sat atop her head. I heard the sound of uncontrolled laughter come out of her mouth as much as I heard her talk. She hid her sickness well. You would have had to know her to be aware of the cancer she battled internally. She was that good and often detoured talk away from herself and her condition onto other topics.

Such was the case with her visit and her sponge-like brain ready to soak up all the stock car knowledge I could feed her.

Our team’s speed on pole night at LMS fell short of what Cope needed to make the Coke 600 lineup. The double edged sword fell as all the hard work Brad, myself and all the crew put into the car was for naught and we would not race on Sunday. The silver lining in the qualifying black cloud was I had more time to spend with Erin.

The garage passes I obtained let me give her the grand tour inside Lowe’s Motor Speedway. It took almost no time for her to develop a crush on Jimmie Johnson. She was fascinated at Robby Gordon’s Sunday menu of running the Indianapolis 500 and returning to Concord for the 600 all in one day. And I am sure my disappointment came through when I showed her the empty garage stall where Cope had been parked just forty eight hours earlier, where Bennett’s crew had busted their tails to fight the good fight, and where now was just extra space for neighboring teams to store pit equipment.

Erin paid close attention to all the decals and corporate logos that were taking up every possible inch that they could be displayed on. Being the corporate gal she was I could feel her wheels spinning inside her head. Trying to marry her business partners with NASCAR’s powerful marketing arm while all the while doing the most important thing to her: still help her little brother.

Later that afternoon we went on to watch the Carquest 300 Busch Series race in a suite over turn two. I was so proud that I had enough pull to make this VIP weekend happen for her. I was barely making a living, but I gained some connections that I could at least show her I was going somewhere. Erin’s friend Dawn, who made the trip with her, joined us in the suite, and they both were excited to watch the upcoming race as first-timers. Ron Hornaday made an instant follower out of both with a spectacular save out of a very long spin and not crashing. Jeff Green won the event and two new race fans were born.

Erin and Dawn returned north after their weekend girl trip and I felt a little sense of accomplishment. I had introduced my sister to my New World and gave her more than just buying a ticket to a track.

Her business nature never quit and many calls were made to race teams, drivers and people working in the sport. A few new racing clients were added to her list, but that large team-sponsoring deal was never brokered although not from a lack of effort.

She helped keep some networking contacts open that helped me land my first actual full time race team employment. That job came after countless phone calls. I knocked on many doors. But two people knocking can cover twice as much ground.

We visited each other over the years and her daughter, my niece; Jacqueline went to college at Elon in Greensboro. A small town roughly ninety minutes from all the race action. I hosted Jacqueline’s first race visit also in 2004’s fall 500-mile chase at LMS.

The connection was always strong even as Erin spent so much time in a hospital bed over the years. Monday, October 12, 2009 brought the phone call I had feared for a long time. Erin had passed, but through all her pain and suffering I knew she was finally at peace.

I chased my dreams to Charlotte and into the world of NASCAR. I didn’t do it alone. I had a lot of help. And Erin is one I have to deeply thank for helping me get to where I wanted to go. She always looked out for her little brother.

All of us will miss you Erin. God bless.