Savage Words: It’s been 30 years since my first 500; 80 for my dad

On May 26, 1996 – 30 years ago yesterday – I wrote one of my first sports columns for the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls.

I was a young 26-year-old, doing my best to break into the sports world. Fortunately, the paper sent me to Indianapolis to cover the 1996 Indy 500.

That, simply, was a dream.

I grew up in a motorsports family. My father grew up on the northside of Indianapolis and parlayed his passion for the 500, and motorsports in general, into a nice writing career.

I was always fascinated with the 500 growing up. I still am. I watched it again this past weekend, and it’s always the highlight of the year for me. As a youngster, I anticipated race day morning at Indianapolis more than I did Christmas when I got to see what Santa brought me. It’s still that way. Well, the Santa thing I’m a little skeptical about.

So, when I got the green light to cover the 500 for the Argus 30 years ago, I was fired up.       

The headline in the column I wrote for the paper in Sioux Falls that appeared on Indianapolis 500 race day in 1996 read: 50 years later, I’m following my dad to the Indy 500

My dad went to his first 500 at age eight with my grandfather, my uncle, and another family friend. They sat in the infield on the south end of the massive 2.5-mile oval. I was lucky enough to eventually become the Director of Public Relations for IndyCar, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in that same spot when I worked there from 2002-06. I actually thought about it a lot, and intentionally strolled over to that area, just thinking about my family before me.

The column I wrote 30 years ago is framed and hangs on my wall. I noticed a few weeks ago that it’s also framed and on my dad’s garage wall at his home in Brandon. When I saw that, it put a lump in my throat.

It’s now been 80 years since he went to his first 500 on May 30, 1946. 

80 years!

So, if you’ll indulge me, here’s a quick excerpt from that column that ran 30 years ago:

The last time he visited the track was in the early 1980s when he was there on a family vacation with us to watch qualifying and practice. He’s seen so much happen over the past 50 years at the Indianapolis 500, I wish he were here today. When he first visited the track in 1946, it was still all brick, and in 1954 (when he went for the second time), the front and back chutes were still brick.

Now 50 years later, I’m going to the greatest race in the world and I have him to thank. Most people aren’t lucky enough to have the passion for this race as they’re growing up. I was given the chance to love this great sport.

So as Jim Nabors sings ‘Back Home Again in Indiana’ today and the traditional balloons fly across the Indianapolis sky, I hope my dad knows that I’m thinking about him and what it was like 50 years ago in the infield on the south end.

The crazy thing is, it truly seems like yesterday when I wrote that. It’s been 30 years. In 20 years, someone – perhaps my daughter – can write the same thing.

That’s the beauty of the Indianapolis 500. If you’re into it – and there are millions – you have your own special connection to it. I’m forever grateful that it’s been such a big part of my life, and that I got to stand in the footsteps of my dad 30 years later. 

Time goes fast. Whatever you’re going to do, do it.