Aching Absences at Daytona

There will be an unmistakable presence looming over Daytona International Speedway as NASCAR starts its engines and prepares to drop the Green Flag on the 2011 season this Sunday at the Daytona 500.  Though it’s hard to believe, this weekend marks the 10^th anniversary of the death of one of racing’s most iconic figures, the legendary Dale Earnhardt.

Even non-racing fans know the name.  Everyone can picture the mustached, swaggering figure with the twinkle in his eyes, pilot of the ubiquitous black Mr. Goodwrench Chevy Impala with the bold, white #3 emblazoned on the door.

It’s only natural for Earnhardt’s death to assume a prominent storyline this weekend in Daytona, as the seven-time NASCAR Winston Cup Champion had become the face of the sport for most Americans.  Although Earnhardt was used to leading, not following, the man commonly referred to as “The Intimidator” was following on that day that changed NASCAR forever; following not only the two cars in front of him in what was to be the last lap of his last race, but following what had become a tragic trend in the fastest growing sport in America.  In fact, Dale Earnhardt was the fourth NASCAR driver to die in a crash within a calendar year.

NASCAR had changed for me some 9 months earlier on May 12, 2000, when racing claimed the youngest member of another NASCAR racing family dynasty.  Two friends and I were pulling a racing doubleheader.  Having attended a race at the now-defunct Longhorn Speedway in Austin on a Friday night, we were walking towards the grandstand at Thunderhill Raceway in Kyle, Texas one night later when we heard the track’s PA Announcer ask for a moment of silence and prayer for the Petty family.

Earlier that afternoon, Adam Petty, great-grandson of original NASCAR driver and 3-time Champion Lee Petty, grandson of the legendary 7-time Champ Richard Petty, and son of 9-time NASCAR Cup winner Kyle Petty, had died instantly when the throttle stuck wide-open on his #45 Sprint Dodge in a Busch Series practice session, sending him hurtling head-on into the wall at New Hampshire Motor Speedway.  He was just 19 years-old.

If Earnhardt’s death was the final catalyst to wrack stock car racing to its core, and led the sport -- finally – to enact a series of changes that have made the sport much safer today, Adam Petty’s death started the conversation.  (It shouldn’t be overlooked that his death was followed in rapid succession by an eerily similar accident at the same track that claimed the life of 1998 Winston Cup Rookie of the Year Kenny Irwin, Jr. and a crash later that year in Texas that killed Craftsman Truck driver Tony Roper.  That meant that three drivers had been killed, one in each of NASCAR’s three top touring series in one season, before Earnhardt’s death.)

Like millions of race fans, I had grown up a fan of “The King,” Richard Petty.  As I rekindled my love affair with racing as an adult, I’d quickly become a fan of Kyle Petty, even though it was obvious that, though talented enough to win 9 Winston Cup races and finish 5^th in the points for two consecutive years, Kyle wasn’t the dominant driver that his dad was.

Nobody was, except Earnhardt.

There’s an iconic photo of the four generations of racing Pettys that always sticks in my mind.  There’s Lee, the Founder, Richard, “The King,” Kyle, the Renaissance Man, and Adam, the future of Petty Enterprises.  The roadmap was all laid out for Adam: a full season running in the Busch Series -- sort of NASCAR’s AAA league – supplemented by a handful of Cup races.  In fact, he’d made his first and, as it would turn out, only career Cup start about six weeks earlier, qualifying for the DirecTV 500 at Texas Motor Speedway.  When Adam took the Green Flag along with his dad Kyle, he became the first 4^th generation NASCAR driver in history; a feat witnessed by his great-grandfather Lee, who would sadly pass away suddenly just 3 days later.

Second generation driver Dale Earnhardt, who had run a race the year before with his two sons, Dale, Jr. and Kerry, was running third before his fatal crash, trailing Dale, Jr.  Racing is a seriously family affair.

Petty Enterprises never really recovered from Adam’s death.  Kyle, forced to juggle the often competing demands of ownership and driving, all while coping with his son’s death, stepped out of his #44 car and drove the #45 until the end of his own driving career.  Petty Enterprises nearly imploded before a surviving nugget of the company found new life as the newly rebranded Richard Petty Motorsports.

Similarly, Dale Earnhardt, Inc. (DEI) was merged into oblivion after Earnhardt’s passing, although it took longer and a semblance remains in Earnhardt-Ganassi Racing.

It seems as if virtually every foot of Earnhardt’s last lap on this Earth has been dissected, the footage of the fatal tangle 499.75 miles into a 500-mile race as firmly seared into a race fan’s brain as the last seconds of the space shuttle “Challenger” or the attack on the Twin Towers.  There’s Earnhardt, trying to at least hold onto third, if not protecting eventual winner Michael Waltrip and Dale, Jr. who are both piloting DEI-owned machines.  Earnhardt grazes across Sterling Marlin’s front bumper, right-angling up the race track and into the Turn 4 wall at 160mph with Kenny Schrader’s Pontiac seemingly fused to his passenger-side door.

It all looked so innocent to the casual observer, especially compared to the spectacular crash that had happened about 40 laps earlier, a melee that launched cars airborne and crashing every which way, wiping out or damaging nearly half the 43-car field.  Yet everyone walked away.

Earnhardt’s crash, broadcast live, seemed no worse than a hard fender-bender...but those who’d been there knew better.

“Man, I hope Dale’s okay,” worried 3-time Cup Champion driver – but rookie broadcaster Darrell Waltrip – ecstatic at his brother’s huge win, but knowing in his gut that Earnhardt’s crash was far worse than it looked.  Sadly, he was right.

By contrast, Adam Petty’s crash occurred in obscurity, away from the TV cameras, despite the fame surrounding his name.

Both Dale Earnhardt and Adam Petty live on in different ways.  Building on the momentum initially generated by the deaths of Petty, Irwin, Jr. and Roper the year before, the huge blow dealt by the loss of Earnhardt would at last force NASCAR to make such seemingly commonsense safety changes as requiring all drivers to wear full helmets fitted with head and neck restraints, and building cushioned SAFER barriers over many tracks’ concrete retaining walls.

No doubt, Adam Petty would be making the start this weekend, had the New Hampshire crash not taken his life.  Instead, while Adam Petty’s memory lives on at the Victory Junction Gang Camp, a summer camp for chronically ill children Kyle and Pattie Petty founded to honor their son, the Daytona 500 will start without a Petty in the field for the third straight year.

And while the memory of Dale Earnhardt will understandably be at the forefront of this year’s race, with a moment of silence planned for Lap #3, let’s not forget Adam Petty and the lasting legacy of the Petty racing family.