During the 1970’s, I was busy being a rebellious teen who liked her hair long and her friends on the fringe. Strangely enough, although I liked boys and fast cars, this interest did not transcend over into racing. If I heard the name ‘Darrell Waltrip’, it really didn’t mean anything to me.

At this same time in history, racing interested Darrell Waltrip very much. I have heard he was a bit rebellious in his own right, and liked fast cars, too.

He won the Rebel 500 race at Darlington International Raceway in April of 1977, about the same time I was ordering my high school graduation cap and gown. I had managed to successfully put twelve years of school behind me, and Waltrip was managing to become a successful driver in NASCAR.

Fast-forward to July 20, 2006, on a hot afternoon in Martinsville, VA, two days before the Goody’s Headache Powder 250 Busch series race. I still have long hair, but now I am a mother of a young man who has just worn his cap and gown for his high school graduation. And Darrell Waltrip is entering a race, allegedly his last race, as a three-time Cup Champion. My, what a few decades will do to people.

In the heat of the day, I am with my just-graduated son, Joshua, carefully walking through the garage area of the speedway. As it is during practice, we have to be mindful of all of the activity, and stay out of the way of the racecars that are entering and exiting the garages. As we happen upon the stall for the No. 99 Aaron’s ‘One For My Brother’ Dodge, we both stopped and took in a big breath. Now Darrell Waltrip’s name means a whole lot to me, and to my son as well. We took lots of pictures of everything.

At one point when Waltrip came in and was actually out of the car, Joshua took his leather jacket over timidly to get it signed. However Waltrip was surrounded by crew members who were swarming over the car, and Joshua felt intimidated moving among all of the activity. A kindly man came along and asked Josh if he wanted to see Darrell, and Josh shook his head yes. The man alerted Darrell to Joshua’s presence, and the famous driver/owner/announcer came around the car. I managed to get a picture of the two of them, and it will remain one of the favorites of my life.

Shortly afterwards, Joshua nudged me and said, “Mom! He’s going somewhere. Get your jacket signed, too.”

I trailed behind Waltrip, amazed at how fast my heart was beating. I have gotten other autographs and met a few drivers, but I still get star struck and rubbery-legged in their presence. I felt particularly weak-kneed this time though, and almost gave up walking behind him when he was approached by a reporter with a photographer in tow. I thought my one chance to be in the presence of Darrell Waltrip was gone.

He turned to the reporter, and when he did so, he saw me, this long-haired star struck woman standing there. And he stopped walking. That was significant to me, because he could have kept going on his busy way. The reporter and the photographer are used to trailing a driver while he quickly walks from one place to another, and I know they would have done so, to get a nice news byte from Waltrip. But Waltrip stopped and stayed, and, I like to believe, it was for me.

Once the reporter was satisfied and on his way, the man that hollers ‘boogity boogity boogity’ for the first half of the NASCAR season turned to me and smiled. I squeaked out my question, “Would you mind signing my coat?” and he said he absolutely would. As he was doing so, I thought of a hundred things I should say. I reminded myself to tell him ‘good luck’.

But all I squeaked out was, “Thank you very much.”

He told me I was welcome. And with another smile, he turned and continued on his destination. Had I been able to say anything else to him, I am certain he would have stayed to listen.

A brief moment in time, but one I will remember forever. His gracious way of taking time for Joshua and me was only seconds out of his life, but moments we’ll treasure forever.

This compares with some of the surly attitudes we have experienced from young and otherwise famous drivers, and makes us realize that although all of the years that have passed, Darrell Waltrip still values the fans. And what is NASCAR without its fans?

Thank you, D.W., for the memories, both on the track, and off.