thinking about what I used to do...so many thoughts...so many memories. Racing is a hell of a lot of fun. Working a corner is probably both the best and worst job on the track. Best seat in the house, and after the driver and maybe the idiots working in the pits, the most dangerous job on the track. I miss the racing. Most of all, I miss the camaraderie. Not many people do that. Even fewer are any good at it. We worked hard from sunup to sundown and then drank the night away before getting up in the morning and doing it all over again. I really miss it. I still get calls begging me to come back to the track. Can't do it. If you aren't willing to give them 110%, you shouldn't do it.

Some other random remembrances for the one or two that might read this boring post....

The burning NSX that came over the rise at Sebring heading into the Tower Turn. Darkness had just fallen. There isn't much elevation change at Sebring, but there is a rise and then a downhill into the Tower Turn at Sebring. I was the corner captain that day. You could see the image of the driver in the NSX, completely engulfed in flames, as it came over the rise. Inexplicably, he pulled off to driver's left at the turn....on the opposite side of the track from us. You really can't tell if a Ferrari is coming next over the rise at about 140 before braking for the turn. We looked at each other and said, "let's go." We emptied every fire bottle we had. Didn't touch the fire. Fuel pump just pumping faster than anything we had.....cold night and wicked winds fanning the flames. Never knocked it down enough to get to the kill switch near the windshield. Fire truck finally arrived. It was only then I found the driver...crawled off into the weeds. We thought he was still in the car. Fortunately, he was just singed. Asked him why he pulled off driver's left....believe me, ever driver knows exactly where the corner workers are at each turn, we're gonna get to them first....he said a car was coming on him. The idiot was still watching his mirrors while engulfed completely in flames. I still have a tape, somewhere, around here of that whole episode from ESPN. And I still shudder every time I think about us running across the hot track in that situation.

Or maybe the time at Moroso when a formula car went straight into the wall between 2 & 6 and burst into flames. I was at 2. Thank God we had good folks at 6 and they got the fire out. Car perpendicular - front end to the sky. By the time I get there the fire is out but everything is smoldering and there's gas dripping everywhere. Climb onto the rear engine and grab the driver's helmet. I can feel the heat from his helmet through my leather racing gloves. His legs are crushed and trapped in what is left of the front end of the car. Maybe the toughest SOB I ever met. All he said was, "what are you doing?" "Making sure you don't move your head." "OK, please get me out of here." Took almost 30 minutes. Fortunately, the fire truck got there and sprayed me and the engine with foam while all of this went on. He survived.

Or the time at Moroso when a corvette plowed into the station at two. On top of the cement barriers. A worker trapped underneath. Driver dead. Got to get him and the car off to get the worker out. Worker lived for 17 days. We remember P.K.

There are many more. But most of all, I remember the good times. Working Pro races in the streets of St. Pete. Prelim was a wheelchair race. We're basically asleep on the corner. Sure enough, some guy rolls his chair in front of me. I run out and upright it but haven't a clue how to fold him and his spaghetti legs back into the chair. He's cursing the hell out of me 'cause he wants to get back in the race. At least, I think he was. Belgium, I think. Didn't understand a word he said.

Or Moroso, a swamp off line when it rains. We used to carry 3 foot long rubber hoses on each corner so we could get air to a driver if they rolled upside down into the water. Fortunately, never had to use it. Or maybe working the bank at Turn 8....one eye on the track to make sure nobody flips up the bank and kills us and the other on the canal behind us to make sure no gator bites us in the butt.

Or maybe the time at Moroso when a female worker was wading through the water...me about 30 feet away on the track when I discovered a broken fan belt. Throw it just right so it hits the water in front of her just the right way and you'd swear it was one of the ugliest snakes you ever seen. I can still hear her screaming.

Mud doesn't have enough bandwidth.....but I miss it.