Gaining The Love Of Racing From My Dad

Column By: DON COUSE / RPW – EAST GREENBUSH, NY – It’s the beginning of March here in upstate New York. NASCAR and other racing leagues have started their seasons, and the racing season opener at Lebanon Valley, “the Lebanon Lid Lifter,” is fast approaching.

For me, going to Lebanon Valley has been a lifelong activity. I’ve gone from one of the kids at the bottom of the stands playing with Hot Wheels in the gravel to the teenager who was more interested in the girls in the stands then the cars on the track, to the man I am today, who doesn’t mind the dirt on my Lebanon Valley French Fries while I watch the Big Block Modifieds roar into the first turn. This year is different though. Last fall, I lost my Dad.

For the past several years, my Dad and I spent our Saturday nights at the Valley watching the races, discussing the latest race gossip going around with the crew at the top of the blue section, and both of us talking about where Dale Jr. qualified for the Sunday NASCAR race. Dad was involved with racing from an early age, as he learned to be an auto body technician. He was naturally around cars constantly.

Working at Broughton’s garage in Schodack gave him the chance to be around and work on the owner’s top fuel race car. Later on, he worked at Kennedy’s in South Troy, sponsor of the 8 car of Mert “Socks” Hulbert. Eventually, he worked Friday nights at Malta and Saturday nights at Lebanon Valley on the Kennedy’s wrecker. He would joke that one Friday night he fell off of the wrecker at Malta, and his head left a pothole on the front stretch!

At Lebanon and Malta, my father rooted for Tommy Corellis. On the weekends, he would watch the NASCAR races when they were on TV, cheering for Cale Yarborough and later Dale Earnhardt. Dad liked the rough and tumble drivers, cheering when TC performed a slide job for the lead or when Earnhardt bumped Waltrip in the corner to loosen him up and get by.

Still, with all of my Dad’s influence, I didn’t understand his love of racing until he decided to take me to the Big Rig 100 at Lebanon Valley in 1984. The crowd that night was large. The traffic stretched for miles getting into the track, and by the time we got in the gates there was no seats left in the stands. The overflow crowd made its way into the pits, where my father’s old friends on the Kennedy’s wrecker invited us to stand on the wrecker with them.

That race left an impression on me. The huge trucks sliding into the corners…brakes glowing cherry red, diesel smoke pouring out of their stacks when they stepped on the gas, blackening the corner exit. From that moment on, I was a race fan for life. Hooked. Addicted.

I started going to the races more often; later on I started dating a 50/50 girl, who later would become my wife (and is still selling 50/50). Together we went to Syracuse, to NASCAR races, and other racing events, cementing me as a diehard race fan.

Since those days, Saturday nights have been spent at Lebanon Valley, but with the wife working, my partner in crime was my Dad. The cars have changed, and some of the drivers have too, but the experience is the same. I still love to watch a good slide job pass, or Tremont and Hearn battle like only they can, or even a good Pure Stock battle. My Dad and I would watch, yelling, “did you see that pass?” We would tease each other as only a father and son could…and thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

As my Dad fell ill last year, he insisted I still go every Saturday and text him the results. My wife would buy the Bobco DVD’s so we could watch them together at my Dad’s home. Sadly he passed in the fall.

This upcoming season will be the first for me without my Dad. As I have read and heard the all of the pre-season gossip, I wish I could still call and tell him. Opening night will bring feelings of sadness for me that my Dad won’t be next to me, but it will also bring happy memories of good times spent together. I’ll still be at the top of the Blue section…my Lebanon Valley fries covered with a sprinkling of dirt, smiling as I watch the cars roll into turn one.