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Authors: Shey Stahl

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BOOK: The Legend
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27.
          
Uniformity – Jameson

Uniformity
– Tire to tire variation in size and properties. It’s a harder control size of
a flexible tire made from rubber and fabric than it is something more solid
such as wood, plastic or metal.

 

I leaned
my forehead against the tiles in the shower letting the scalding water sluice
down my back over muscles that have been strained for days. Everything hurts.
It’s a deep hurt, something that couldn’t be relieved. Blindly, I reach behind
me to the faucet, and when I find it, I crank the hot a little more, sighing at
the sensation.

Sway was
asleep by the time I came to bed, her face relaxed.

We were in Dover now, the night before my second
race back and decided to stay at a hotel this weekend. Usually we stayed in my
motor coach but I we needed some place a little more private this weekend. A
place we could escape.

The
air-conditioning came on and cycled through the room twice before I fell asleep
beside my wife only to wake up an hour later.

“Anybody in there?”

“Yeah,” my
voice was muffled from sleep. I propped myself up to look at the clock that
read three am. Rolling over, shadows danced across the floor.

“Just checking
for occupancy, sir,” a voice sounded and everything went quiet again.

“Clearly
the sign indicated that.” I yelled back. Maybe it was rude of me, or maybe it
was exactly what I should say. It wasn’t the first time a woman had knocked on
my door in the middle of the night. There was a sign that said do not disturb.

A few
seconds later, I heard the same noise a few doors down and gathered this was
her way of looking for an opportunity knowing a handful of drivers were in the
hotel.

Turning
over, I tried to sleep but quickly gave up. Fumbling with my shorts beside the
bed, I slipped them on and swung my legs over the bed resting my elbows on my
knees, my head hung.

Beside me
Sway stirred and then quickly found sleep again.

Looking
around the hotel room, everything seemed the same but different now. A feeling
that started in my gut rose daily until now. I couldn’t avoid it any longer.

I didn’t
want the uneasiness anymore. I didn’t want the sleepless nights, the time spent
away from my family, the pressure to perform. I didn’t want any of it anymore.
I wanted to race, yes, but I wanted to race for myself.

In the
morning, after I showered and was heading back to the track, the feeling was
almost gone but still there in the pit of my stomach.

  
My conclusion was that this wasn’t for me anymore. My contract with Simplex was
through the end of the season and I would honor that. After that I was done.

This
lifestyle of seeing my family a few times a week and not knowing where my own
kids were at or when I would have time with my wife wasn’t what I wanted. I
wanted more time with them. I wanted memories of life with them rather than
seeing my life through photographs.

And like I
said
,
if I was being honest with you I was scared. I
was scared of losing them before I had a chance to show them just how much they
meant to me and how much a part of my success they were.

 

 

Uniformity – Axel

 

 “Are
you coming with us?” I asked Justin and Tommy Saturday morning at breakfast
before I headed to Dover, Delaware to the Monster Mile. It was the same track
that holds the Monster Million each year.

“We
wouldn’t miss this.” Justin took a bite of his pancakes. Chewing slowly, he
smiled. “I bet Spencer that he’d tell someone to fuck off before the weekend
was out. I need to collect my money.”

“You
should have bet him last week. He told Brody to fuck off after only being there
five minutes.”

Tommy and
I laughed remembering all the stories of him in the hospital from Casten and
Arie. Dad wasn’t exactly this nicest to the hospital staff that saved his life.

I learned
over the years through stories and watching him, my dad proved his mettle with
the best of them. He had a commitment and a determination with a sheer belief
that he could be the best and would be.

He was.

There was
no question about that.

What would
have taken someone a year to accomplish and make a full recovery, he did in six
months. That right there was more valor than your average person.

It wasn’t
easy on him, he bordered on the edge every day but still, he did it.

When I
arrived at the track with Lily and the guys, I made my way through the mobs of
fans and media to his motor coach to find him and Kyle outside of it laughing.

Without a
doubt, Kyle missed my dad, as did Aiden and Spencer. Easton was cool but he wasn’t
my dad and he didn’t have the same drive in him.

For
example if my dad was riding on cords toward the end of the race, he’d drive
that car until the tires fell off if he thought he could win.

Easton, well
he’d pit and then try to get a top ten. He was consistent yes, but he wasn’t my
dad.

We got into talking about the last few sprint
car races I ran in and my return to Knoxville coming up next week.

“Are you
scared?” Dad asked me after everyone else walked away and we found ourselves
alone inside.

“Yes and
no.” I said honestly shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “I’m not
scared of being at Knoxville again. I’m scared that I will never be what you
guys were to this sport.” I had yet to admit this to anyone yet.

To my
surprise dad laughed bringing a bottle of water to his lips. “You are.” He
assured me with a smile. “Don’t try to live up to my clout or grandpa’s.” his
eyes met mine and I was certain he wasn’t joking. “Trying to live up to someone
else’s shoes only complicates the dream you want. Make it about you and no one
else.” He continued to stare at me for a moment before smiling. “You’re a good
kid, Axel. You’re going to make a good dad to that little guy. But you see only
one angle to this. That’s not at all what it’s about.”

Anyone
could have said that to me but because a man that I looked up to my entire life
said it just months after the man he looked up to, his entire life, said it.
The words had meaning and probably more meaning that I could ever describe.

“Thank you
for
...
everything you did for your mom and me
...
” Dad looked away as emotion took his words
away. “I never thanked you and I meant to. I know that what you saw and what
you’re dealing with now is difficult.”

I couldn’t
help it any longer and I started to get emotional too and walked over to hug
him. He immediately stood and wrapped his arms around me.

Until now,
we hadn’t talked about that night in Knoxville and we never would in detail.
That wasn’t us. But sharing what we did, a hug between a father and son was
exactly what we did do.

 

 

Uniformity – Jameson

 

Axel had
just left the motor coach when my mom walked in. She seemed in good spirits, as
she always was these days. She tried hard. For the sake of everyone around her,
she tried very hard not to feel the pain that part of her was gone. She felt
it. Oh god did she feel it. I knew enough about my mom to know late at night,
in an empty house that was once walled with a legend was now quiet and filled
with his memories. I found her once in the closet, asleep, in a pile of his
t-shirt wearing one of his helmets. I never told her that I had stopped by and
found her but when she woke up on my chest, she knew and we cried together.

It didn’t
matter whether you maintained a smile. Their memory is there as it should be.

After
taking a bottle of water from the fridge and a bag of chips from Casten who
followed my mom around most days, she said eating a chip. “I’m ready to talk to
the media.”

I choked
on my water, as did Sway, who was sitting beside me in the motor coach. We were
all sitting around with Arie and Casten laughing about Axel and Lily’s latest
visit to the doctor where they found out they were having a little boy.

“What?”
Sway finally asked since I was trying to catch my breath.

“Well,” my
mom looked at Casten who put his arm around her. “I think it’s time they hear
from me.”

Both the
media and NASCAR had asked to interview her since my dad’s passing but she
wasn’t ready. Why?
Because she hadn’t dealt with the death
herself.

What
changed?

After the
memorial in Elma, she finally dealt with it and cried for nearly three days
straight. And then she went to Tri-State Speedway with Axel and the boys. Being
around the racing community again, she dealt with his death in her own way. The
same way he would have. Being around what made him who he was. And that in turn
made her who she was, a racers wife.

You see it
was never racing that he was known for. It was racing that was him.

To understand
that reply you would have to understand the mentality of a racer. And it’s not
something I can explain.

“If you’re
sure, it can be arranged.” I told my mom who was looking to me for approval.
Aside from my brief press conference that ended short last weekend when they
pressed for details, my family and I had yet to speak to the media and I wasn’t
going to. For now, I kept quiet but if my mom was speaking, it was only right
that I did too.

“Do you
think that can be arranged prior to the race?” Mom looked from me to Alley.

“I can
talk to NASCAR and see.” Alley said weary of my reaction. I wasn’t keen on my
family talking to the media for the simple fact I didn’t want them judged. Any
time you talk to the media your words are transformed into what they want. For
this reason, my wife and my kids never did interviews aside from Axel. And he
only talked about his career with racing, never family life.

It’s
something I learned very early on that first year racing. Don’t talk to the media
about personal affairs.

But this
was different. Jimi was an owner of a successful NASCAR team and Busch team for
over twenty years. The NASCAR community and fans, wanted consolation and they
wanted to show us their support.

When I was
in the hospital I got thousands of cards and flowers and letters, all praying
for a safe recovery. They cared, and in turn, we should say something publicly
to let them know we cared.

I looked
over at Alley who was waiting for my response. “Let them know that prior to the
race we will both publicly speak.”

Sway
gasped. “Jameson?”

I looked
over at her. “I should speak to them. They want to hear from me as well as my
mom.”

She
nodded. “If you’re sure,”

“I am.”

 

 

The
morning of the race, I tried to talk myself and my mom out of what we were
about to do but I couldn’t. Instead I offered her an out.

“You don’t
have to do this.” I told her. I wanted her to know there was no obligation for
her to do this.

“Yes, I
do.” Her misty eyes focused on mine. “For them
...
for
us
...
I have to.”

For months
she’d been quiet, now she was going to speak to thousands of fans about
something very personal to her, to us.

We walked
in silence to the stage in front of the large crowd at Dover International
Raceway.

It wasn’t
until then that I thought about what I would say to them.

I wondered
how many of them had lost their fathers recently, or mothers, or husbands, or
wives, or worse, a child. Maybe some were still dealing with the pain like it
was yesterday for some, maybe they cried less and focused on what their death
taught them and how their memory could live on.

Approaching
the stage, I kissed my wife first, then my mom, and walked to the podium.
Looking into the audience, my fears about what I would say seemed silly now
because I knew what to say. I would say the truth.

I spoke
with a sorrow that I felt deep in my bones. Not just for my dad but for
everyone that had ever lost a loved one. I spoke with a sorrow for the little
bright eyed boy who captured my heart with his chocolate eyes and will to
survive though his body couldn’t. I spoke with a sorrow for a man who taught me
what coming home really meant and understood my love for his daughter before I
ever did. A sorrow for those lost on my plane and a sorrow for a true friend
who died doing something he loved.

“I think
that most of you want me to say something heartfelt and meaningful. Something
that will make you
feel
better when searching for
solace. You want something that will make a loss so great maybe not hurt as
much, but I can’t. Words can’t capture the heartache and they’re not meant to.
They are there to offer a mere comfort that someone understands. It can’t heal
you but it can let you know you’re not alone. Your tears and support for our
family have touched us deeply and we thank you for that.” My hand found my
chest over my heart. “We feel it here. We feel that just like you, we’re not
alone in this and are forever grateful for your support. Thank you. All that I
can say is that we are here, living the only life our family knows.
Racing.”
I motioned behind me to the track. “This is how we
keep our memories alive.”

BOOK: The Legend
5.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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