Indianapolis 500

The month of May is officially here. I went to opening day of the Indy 500 practice yesterday. It is such a surreal time for me. The sights and sounds of the old speedway bring a constant wave of memories for me. I have been to the race every year since 1989. It is a tradition I have shared with my father each year. I think about all the great races, exciting finishes, and freightning accidents we have seen. I think of the balloons released right before the command to "Start your engines". I think of registering for classes at Wright State using the phone system, called Raider Express in those days, and of stopping at the White Castle before we park. I remember our first year as if it was yesterday. I was amazed by all the people that were there. We walked all the way to the other side of the track and crawled up into the top row of the bleachers. We were able to stand for the entire race, behind us the infield was filled with people drinking, undressing, and cars being set on fire. It wasn't the greatest place to sit thinking about it now. At the time, it was all we knew. Our seats then were $18 bucks each. We have moved to many areas of the speedway and now we sit high above the front straight. The pits are across from us, and we have "arrived". Our seats now cost $150.00. I remember Roberto Guerrero coming around the 2nd turn on the warm up laps and spinning out because of the cold track. I remember Scott Sharp losing it in turn one on lap one after a brilliant drive to get the pole position. I remember Robbie Mcghee coming into the pits, brushing into another car, and sliding over his crew chief. That was the only time in all our time there, that we had to walk away for a few minutes. It happened directly in front of us. I remember his wife running out of the ambulance to check on him, and the safety workers picking her up and pushing her back into the car. The crew guys didnt wear helmets that year, they do now.

I remember seeing Alessandro Zampedri flip onto his top as he went into the final straight on the last lap. I remember Sarah Fisher and Lyn St. James running into each other heading into turn one. I remember Little Al and Emerson Fittipaldi bumping in turn three. We could tell as they fired past us and into the apex of turn three that only one car was going to come out.

I think thats the thing about Indy. Every year, I know something will happen that will be a part of me, a part of who I am for the rest of my life. I know it will be with my Dad, and that its our day. In three weeks when the ballons raise into the air, when the engines fire, and the 11 rows of three roll away from the grid, I know something will happen that will change my life. That would all sound so dramatic if it wasn't so true. As we draw closer to 20 Indy 500's, my memories are about to be refreshed. The rush is about to begin. I cannot wait to be there.

Most people will never understand my passion for the race, for the day, for the pagentry, for the event. But, most of those people have never been themselves.

Thank goodness, it's May.

The fastest month of the year...
EJ Wasson