H
HardScrabble
Guest
It's a couple of days early, but this article was written today and is worth reading.
A part of the tragedy not mentioned here is that Jimmy Means was involved in the wreck as well. When JD's crashed into the barrier it rebounded up into the air and Jimmy's out of control car actually ran underneath it. JD's car landed on top of Means' and then rolled off. Jimmy, a struggling independent himself, was the first to reach the car to check on JD. Many say that Jimmy "Smut" Means while physically unharmed, never raced with his full heart there after.
Recalling one who gave all
By Thomas Pope
Motorsports editor
On Sunday, NASCAR Winston Cup drivers tackle the road course that is Watkins Glen International. The date: August 11.
What’s special about August 11? It was on a Sunday afternoon, August 11, 1991, that J.D. McDuffie died at The Glen.
The race was only on its fifth lap when a suspension part failed on McDuffie’s car as he came to the end of a long straightaway. A wheel broke off and robbed McDuffie of his ability to steer the car, and he slammed passenger-side first into a wall of tires that was backed by steel guardrail. By the time his battered Pontiac came to rest on its roof, the 52-year-old Sanford native was dead of a fractured skull.
“The car was traveling so fast that I didn’t know whose it was until after impact,” said ESPN announcer Ned Jarrett, who was covering the race from a tower 75 feet from the crash scene.
It was a quick, brutal end to a hard life. In more than 25 years on the scene, McDuffie started 653 Winston Cup races and won none of them. His average post-race paycheck? Barely more than $2,000.
Yet despite the pleas of his family to put his knowledge to work as a crew chief for someone else -- and earn a dependable wage -- McDuffie stubbornly carried on.
“Racing is my life,” he once said. “If I don’t run, I don’t eat. This ain’t a weekend hobby to me.”
More than 3,000 people filed through Bridgers-Cameron Funeral Home to try and console McDuffie’s widow and children. Another 700, including fellow drivers Richard Petty, Dave Marcis, Jimmy Means and Lake Speed, attended his funeral services the following day.
McDuffie was “someone who loved the sport enough to invest his entire life in it,” said driver Brett Bodine, “and ultimately did invest his life into it.”
Many of the current generation’s drivers endured tough times on their way to racing’s upper echelons. Now they are wrapped up in jets, helicopters, yachts, mansions and other material trappings.
J.D. McDuffie couldn’t have dreamed of those things. His thoughts were of simple matters, such as Tampa Nugget cigars or how to find enough gas money to drive his hauler -- a ramp truck, mind you, not an 18-wheeler -- to the track.
Come Sunday, when you see one smiling millionaire after another climb into his race car, pause for just a moment to remember one poor man who laid everything on the line at Watkins Glen.
A part of the tragedy not mentioned here is that Jimmy Means was involved in the wreck as well. When JD's crashed into the barrier it rebounded up into the air and Jimmy's out of control car actually ran underneath it. JD's car landed on top of Means' and then rolled off. Jimmy, a struggling independent himself, was the first to reach the car to check on JD. Many say that Jimmy "Smut" Means while physically unharmed, never raced with his full heart there after.
Recalling one who gave all
By Thomas Pope
Motorsports editor
On Sunday, NASCAR Winston Cup drivers tackle the road course that is Watkins Glen International. The date: August 11.
What’s special about August 11? It was on a Sunday afternoon, August 11, 1991, that J.D. McDuffie died at The Glen.
The race was only on its fifth lap when a suspension part failed on McDuffie’s car as he came to the end of a long straightaway. A wheel broke off and robbed McDuffie of his ability to steer the car, and he slammed passenger-side first into a wall of tires that was backed by steel guardrail. By the time his battered Pontiac came to rest on its roof, the 52-year-old Sanford native was dead of a fractured skull.
“The car was traveling so fast that I didn’t know whose it was until after impact,” said ESPN announcer Ned Jarrett, who was covering the race from a tower 75 feet from the crash scene.
It was a quick, brutal end to a hard life. In more than 25 years on the scene, McDuffie started 653 Winston Cup races and won none of them. His average post-race paycheck? Barely more than $2,000.
Yet despite the pleas of his family to put his knowledge to work as a crew chief for someone else -- and earn a dependable wage -- McDuffie stubbornly carried on.
“Racing is my life,” he once said. “If I don’t run, I don’t eat. This ain’t a weekend hobby to me.”
More than 3,000 people filed through Bridgers-Cameron Funeral Home to try and console McDuffie’s widow and children. Another 700, including fellow drivers Richard Petty, Dave Marcis, Jimmy Means and Lake Speed, attended his funeral services the following day.
McDuffie was “someone who loved the sport enough to invest his entire life in it,” said driver Brett Bodine, “and ultimately did invest his life into it.”
Many of the current generation’s drivers endured tough times on their way to racing’s upper echelons. Now they are wrapped up in jets, helicopters, yachts, mansions and other material trappings.
J.D. McDuffie couldn’t have dreamed of those things. His thoughts were of simple matters, such as Tampa Nugget cigars or how to find enough gas money to drive his hauler -- a ramp truck, mind you, not an 18-wheeler -- to the track.
Come Sunday, when you see one smiling millionaire after another climb into his race car, pause for just a moment to remember one poor man who laid everything on the line at Watkins Glen.
