Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, July 25, 1993 TAG: 9307250219
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: D-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By RAAD CAWTHON COX NEWS SERVICE
DATELINE: LONG POND, PA. LENGTH: Long
Mostly, the wives of stock car drivers are ignored by the outside world - until tragedy strikes.
After Davey Allison died July 13 of injuries suffered in a helicopter crash at Talladega Superspeedway, the wives of other Winston Cup drivers closed ranks once again.
"People don't really understand how close we are," said Diane Bodine, wife of driver Brett Bodine. "At the track we are very competitive, all of us. We want to win just as much as our husbands do."
Away from the track, though, things are different.
"We support one another," Bodine said. "We are very, very close-knit. If one of us is suffering, she knows she has the rest of us to lean on."
Before Allison's funeral in Bessemer, Ala., a group of wives stood in the vestibule of St. Aloysius Catholic Church. It was a physically tight-knit circle, the members touching one another on the arm or shoulder when emotion started to grab hold.
"This is what we do," Debi Musgrave, wife of driver Ted Musgrave, said of how the wives deal with the constant presence of danger. "You don't spend your time thinking about what might happen. If you did that, you would go crazy.
"It's like you pull down a curtain between the two parts of your life. Racing and the people involved in it are so much a part of your life. You worry, but you control it."
How do you control it?
"By not dwelling on bad things and on what might happen," Musgrave said. "By hoping for good things. You have to remember that this is what your husband wants to do. And this is what I want to do. This is our lives."
Her husband, she said, "is making a living doing something he loves. A lot of people can't say that."
Bobbie Sanders, whose husband, Ronnie, races both locally and nationally, and whose son Ricky races on NASCAR's Sportsman circuit, said she never seriously has asked either one to find something safer to do.
"They have so much energy and so much desire to compete," she said.
"If they didn't have racing to expend their energy on, they'd have to have something, and it might be something we couldn't participate in.
"It's not their whole life, but if they weren't racing, they might as well be dead."
Musgrave said racers' wives often show little emotion because "we're programmed to know how to act."
"You don't see us hysterical," she said. "We handle our emotions in a professional manner. We have to be there and be strong."
In the front row of the church, two racing wives - Judy Allison, mother of Davey, and Liz Allison, his widow - prepared to spread a white cloth marked with three crosses over Davey Allison's casket.
"The best racing wives are the ones that can deal with this and not hate the sport," said Bette Ford, president of the Racing Wives Auxiliary. "Judy is one of those."
Judy Allison has seen both her sons die. Clifford, 27, died in a crash during practice at Michigan in 1991. Davey, 32, was flying his helicopter to Talladega to watch David Bonnett, son of driver Neil Bonnett, practice. She also watched in 1988 as her husband, Bobby, was involved in a crash at Pocono that caused brain damage. He has recovered enough to be certified to solo in his airplane.
"The dangers are not something any of us dwell on," Marcia Parsons, wife of Phil Parsons, said. "There are times we all worry. There are times when you feel a knot in your stomach. But it's not like you sit there and expect bad things to happen."
But while crashes always have been a part of racing, cars have become safer even as speeds have increased. While no one says racing is safe - J.D. McDuffie at Watkins Glen in 1991 was the last Winston Cup driver to die because of an on-track accident - most drivers tell you they feel safer driving on the racetrack than on the highway. Ann Schrader, wife of driver Ken Schrader, says that what really worries her is "when he's about to drive eight hours in a car. I'm afraid he'll fall asleep."
On the racetrack, and while they are piloting their own aircraft, which more and more drivers are doing, there is a sense of being in control.
But something else has entered into racing. As the sport has grown in popularity and richness, the drivers' lifestyles have changed. Both 1992 Winston Cup champion Alan Kulwicki and Allison, the last two drivers to die, were killed as a result of flying accidents. Kulwicki's plane crashed as he flew to a race in Bristol, Tenn., on April 1. Flying, the drivers who do it often will tell you, can save much time in a business where time is definitely money.
"With an airplane a driver can qualify on Friday, get in his plane and fly somewhere to race or do an appearance Friday night and be back in time to get a night's rest," said Richard Childress, owner of the racing team Dale Earnhardt drives for. "We have so many commitments these days. Things we have to do with sponsors. I fly all the time."
Debi Musgrave said that when her husband learned of Allison's death, he passed up several opportunities to fly to Alabama by private aircraft.
"He's starting to think twice about it," she said. "He's flying USAir now."
Stevie Waltrip and her husband, Darrell, fly to most races. Over the years she has seen Darrell win 84 Winston Cup races, tied with Bobby Allison for third on the all-time list. She also has seen him involved in the accidents that are part of almost every race.
"There are times when you watch and you have to get hold of yourself," she said. "You know in the back of your mind that bad things can happen. You know that bad things happen to good people sometimes. But you also trust in the Lord and know things are really in His hands."
And what of the almost constant flying?
"It has become part of how you live your life," Waltrip said. "You do everything as well as you can and trust."
Diane Bodine had flown from Birmingham the day of Allison's funeral to arrive in Wilkes-Barre, near Long Pond, about 11 p.m. By the next morning it was time to go to the track.
"You just go on," she said. "You almost want to come to the track, to something you know. We will miss Davey, but there is a point where you have to move on."
by CNB