Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, July 14, 1993 TAG: 9307140057
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Jimmy Smothers
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
The tragedies of the Allison family are like the flood waters of the Mississippi, like the heat wave along the Eastern Seaboard. There seems to be no end.
It started with Bobby's near-fatal, career-ending accident five years ago at Pocono International Raceway. And Davey's death-defying wreck July 19, 1992, at that same track in Pennsylvania.
Clifford was killed during a practice lap a few weeks later.
Bobby's brother, Donnie, saw his driving career halted by a serious accident. And his son-in-law, Hut Stricklin, is still nursing hurts from being overcome with heat during Sunday's race in Loudon, N.H.
And Pop Allison, the source of strength for his clan, died last year.
Now Davey is dead. And the prayers of the racing world once more go out to the Allisons - Bobby and his wife, Judy.
I asked Donnie in May if the Allison family had ever considered getting out of racing, considering all they had endured.
"If your family were in the electrical business and someone got electrocuted, would you sell out and go into some other business?" he asked.
Of course not.
"There is your answer," he said. "There are accidents in all walks of life. You don't think about that."
But after father and brother were almost killed; and now two sons dead?
How much does that family have to endure?
The Allisons are Alabama's first family of racing. And word of Davey's crash spread like wildfire through the state late Monday afternoon.
Within hours candles were being lit, prayer circles were being started throughout stock car country.
I was at Talladega for a media luncheon with Neil Bonnett, but I left the track shortly before Davey and Red Farmer arrived.
By the time I reached my office in Gadsden the phone was ringing, asking about Davey.
There were calls from Florida, South Carolina and New York.
When something happens to one of the Allisons, it's like it happened to a member of your family. People wanted to know.
Add to that family Bonnett, a victim of a serious accident three years ago, and Farmer, and you have the Alabama Gang.
These famous racing drivers, these most beloved stock car racers, are all household names.
The core of the gang is the Allisons.
Such a wonderful family, such a cross it has had to bear.
A few weeks ago, I talked to Bobby at an International Motorsports Hall of Fame function. He told me the family's strength always had come from the Lord and from his father.
"Pop always told us, there is nothing you can't overcome," Bobby said.
Bobby is living proof of what a man can do through faith and determination.
But now the Allisons face a bigger test, the loss and burial of yet another son.
Bobby's recovery from his head injury was a miracle. Davey's injury proved to be a disaster.
In businesses, in homes throughout the state, families sat throughout the night awaiting word.
The Birmingham hospital was so flooded with phone calls that a special number with an automatic answering machine was set up to give fans updated condition reports.
Doctors said the next 24 hours would be critical.
They kept Davey alive through the night. At 7 a.m. Tuesday he died.
It was like someone had turned out a light.
Hearts, which had been heavy throughout the vigil, dropped.
People walked softly, nothing was left to be said.
Much of the popularity of Bobby, with his charisma and winsome smile, had carried over to Davey. Now, he is dead.
The last time I saw Davey we were partners in a golf tournament. He drove the cart, I listened to him talk about his family, his goals and about life.
He talked about growing up as the son of a racing legend. He said there had never been any question about him following in his dad's footsteps as a driver.
He talked about his plane, about his helicopter. He told a lot of stories that are more meaningful to me now.
We talked about going to New York when Bobby was crowned Winston Cup champion in a black-tie affair at the Waldorf-Astoria Grand Ballroom.
"I want to go back as the champion," Davey said.
A few years ago, when Dale Earnhardt was crowned champion and Davey was on stage to receive third-place money, he pointed at Dale and said, "I'm tired of sitting in the back. We hope to be sitting in your seat next year. We're getting closer."
And he was. In 1992, Davey might have won the title, except for that wreck at Pocono. He wound up third again.
"I'll win it yet," Davey told me during the round of golf. "And I want you to go back to New York for my night, too."
Davey, at age 32, said he planned to race 15 more years - maybe more, "if I'm still competitive. If not, I'll get out. I have a lot of other things I want to do, like spend some time with my kids."
And he told me a lot of other things. Later. For now, let me ponder them. Let me reflect on watching the son of Bobby Allison grow up, of writing about his successes. And now, having to write of his dying.
\ Jimmy Smothers is sports editor of The Gladsden (Ala.) Times.
Keywords:
AUTO RACING
by CNB