Monday, Aug. 18, 2008 | 2:22 p.m.
NOW:
My Thursday column on Swede Savage, the race car driver and last hero of my youth, generated a lot of touching e-mail from his fans and friends who still remember after all these years.
Many shared an anecdote about having seen him race, or racing against him. Some shared stories about losing a hero of their own, be it racing or otherwise.
This one was my favorite:
Hi Ron,
Beautiful piece about you and Swede and life and death. It reminded me of a trip I made to Laurel Land Memorial Park in Dallas. I was in town for our annual supercomputing conference, staying at a Texas-sized Adolphus hotel built by beer baron Adolphus Busch, located right around the corner from Dealey Plaza. Jon Wayne was singing "Texas Funeral" in the rented Lincoln Town Car I drove from Pasadena.
Beer, death and Texas.
Anyway, I gathered up my guitar-playing astrophysicist buddy, who was in from Los Alamos, and rolled down to the blue-collar side of Dallas, southbound to Laurel Land. There we found the grave of Stevie Ray Vaughan, SRV, the one and only.
The sky wasn't crying that crisp November day, in fact, it was a cool and bright autumn day, my favorite kind. We stood silent and I'm sure we each said a prayer of thanks before heading back to the strange deja vu feeling one gets at Dealey Plaza.
None of which has anything to do with Indy, or Swede, or even racing at all, but has everything to do with taking the time to go out of one's way to respect a piece of one's own heart.
Chip Chapman
THEN:
Today's Olympic thought: Water polo would be a lot more interesting if the players rode horses, like in real polo.
Join the Discussion:
Check this out for a full explanation of our conversion to the LiveFyre commenting system and instructions on how to sign up for an account.
Full comments policy