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DALE EARNHARDT; a Great American Hero
by Caren Faisst , guest contributor to "The Car Guy of Benchfield"
This article originally appeared on Themestream.com, 2-19-01
For as far back as I can recall, my father was a fan of Nascar. I remember being a small child and wondering why my dad would get so excited watching cars on TV...just as excited as he was if the Phillies hit a homerun, or the Flyers scored a goal. I never really understood the point of it, but if it made my dad yell "ALRIGHT!" at the TV, it made me giggle & that was ok with me. As I got older I started being able to pick out drivers by name & ask questions about the sport. I knew it all meant something to my father, who often spoke about his own racing when he was younger, and I wanted to show interest. I did this, if for no other reason, to give my father an ally, since my mom frequently requested the channel to be changed & my brother was too little to care either way.
But soon as I turned into a young adult, i.e. bratty teenager...I too wanted the channel to be changed. All I knew was MTV had something much cooler on than these guys driving around in circles. Suddenly it became a battle of the remote...my dad ranting about wanting to watch "Earnhardt" & me wanting to catch the new Bon Jovi video. Somehow it seems my dad always won...well most of the time. But who did this Earnhardt think he was anyway? Taking my dad's attention from me! Well I did have Bon Jovi...but it wasn't the same.
My father, who watched every race & followed the local racing circuit decided to put his own dreams in motion, bought & built his own racecar. He started racing on dirt tracks & went every weekend to watch or participate. I knew secretly inside this was his dream. A dream he lived vicariously through Dale Earnhardt, his idol. I took the time to start paying more attention again. Listening to the announcers & the other drivers... Listening to the good & bad things Earnhardt was being credited with. Watching this normal, down to earth man, who resembles my father, win race after race.
On holidays, I relished in buying my dad memorabilia. In fact, I saw our house fill with it... I searched everywhere to find the 12" Dale Earnhardt doll in a mint box. Even a #3 flag hung proudly outside, waving from our light pole in the yard. I started reading racing magazines that sat around the house & buying my father books about this guy who came from a small town, started with nothing but a love for racing & built the American dream. I heard criticisms from co-workers who told me liking racing was "white trash". They questioned how they could name "some hick" an American Hero, when he did nothing to "save" anyone or did anything notable. I argued my points, but more often than not, I laughed most of it off. What's the point of arguing with someone with a closed mind anyway? I had done it most of my younger years defending bands I liked, and believe me; it was a no win situation.
Fast forward to present day. I knew months ago that my parents planned the trip to the Daytona 500. The first race of the racing season! A spectacular event. My father had wanted to go so badly. My mother and father decided to make the trip for their 31st wedding anniversary. They would go a few days early, so my dad had the opportunity to drive an actual Nascar racecar around the Daytona track. The track where his idol had raced & would be racing just a day or so after. I was excited for him & thought about the wonderful time he & my mother would have. They would probably dine at the Nascar cafe, buy lots of racing stuff & most of all my dad would get to see Dale race in person (he has before, but Daytona is pretty exciting!) Sunday February 18, I knew my parents had their place at the track & were enjoying the racing atmosphere. I thought of them often all day. I guess the race was pretty normal, by Nascar standards of course. On the last lap it looked as though Michael Waltrip driving for the Earnhardt team was going to take the win, Dale Jr. second & Dale, himself, in third. Of course there were other cars vying for position, and as it seemed he was doing the whole race, Earnhardt made sure no other drivers snuck ahead of him. However, coming into the fourth turn in the last lap, Earnhardt, who was still trying to keep the finishing line-up for his team, tried to block another car from speeding past him. He lost control & ran head on into the sidewall. Just around that corner, the line-up sustained & Waltrip then Dale Jr. finished the race. It didn't look that bad, the crash I mean...It really didn't. Even when they had to cut Dale from the car & rush him to the hospital...it didn't look that bad. And after all it was Dale Earnhardt! He'd be ok...
Later, around 7:30pm, I was on the computer & my brother came in & asked me to go ESPN.com. He said he caught the tail end of a report on Earnhardt's condition & it made it seem like he was dead. I knew he must be wrong. I logged on & it said "Earnhardt Seriously Injured". A sigh of relief came & my brother said he'd keep watching & he left the room. I thought about it for a few seconds as I reread the article...something told me to hit the refresh button & I did. As the page reloaded it said "Earnhardt Killed at Daytona". My eyes widened and filled with tears, a knot came into my stomach. I called out to my brother. I told him & there was silence. My head fell down & I began to weep. I knew my brother probably was too, but I didn't have the strength to get up. I just kept glancing at the screen in disbelief & then down into my lap, crying. I just couldn't believe it...
And then I thought about my dad... I thought about Dale Jr.... I thought, I'd never forget where I was & what I was doing. Later we watched a report on TV & found out, he passed on impact. It didn't make it any better because he was gone, but if he had to go... My mom called and told us they were upset & shaken...that it had happened right in front of where they were sitting. After thinking about it for a while I decided to sit down & write this. My friend Rose told me I should contribute to Themestream & what a way to start off I thought. I'm not a professed writer, just a sad girl. I'm not sure if through reading this you can even understand or see the point. It's just that to me Dale Earnhardt stood for many things.... He turned what little he had into a dynasty. He proved working hard pays off, by showing it's ok to live your dream, as long as you fight damn hard for it. Work hard; play hard...he lived it. He lived and died doing what he loved, something most people only wish for. He gave my father an idol & a damn good one. And most of all he aided me in getting to know my dad, and sharing something with him. I don't mourn all that now, I thank him. He was a Great American Hero. He *is* a Great American Hero. He meant something to our family & always will. In life people come & go...some of those people leave marks on your heart.
I'm glad Dale Earnhardt was one of them.
All responses to "Dale Earnhardt; A Geat American Hero" will be forwarded to Caren Faisst
2001 Car Guy of Benchfield