Hawk

We lost Hawk on a recent morning, when the race car and all the associated ‘stuff’ was already loaded and headed to the speedway. We didn’t contemplate not racing that day; Hawk would surely object to the notion of forgoing a race in observance of such a inevitable and predictable event as passing away.

We were friends for over 40 years, a friendship born in racing and sustained in many other facets of life. Attendance at untold numbers of races, college basketball, football, and more events over the years ensued, with many fine tales to tell. Hawk, of course, was a modified racer from back when the coupes were truly rough and tumble, when dirt was the racing surface of necessity and the small block Chevy the powerplant of choice. One of his memorable moments came from his racing at Monadnock Speedway, years ago, when walls were not yet conceived around this track on the banks of the Ashuelot River. Hawk got tangled with another car, and left the racing surface above the river, down through the bank of trees separating the track from the water, and came to a rest well out of sight of everyone. He had lost a tire in the exchange, a new one no less, so he unbuckled and left the car to go search for it. That’s about when the track safety folks got to the car and found it empty, and much frantic activity ensued looking for the missing driver, with everyone fearing the worst.

After his driving career ended, Hawk fielded cars for other racers to drive, and sponsored yet more. Some folks who know us will be confused now; Hawk could have a gruff presentation style at times, but he had a good heart. He helped some folks out very quietly over the years, and not just in racing, but would deny it if challenged. Just that way.

His own profession in the automotive world yielded numerous opportunities to mingle in some of the best racing circles, and we had many splendid adventures as a result. Trips to Charlotte, decades at Dover, visits to world-class race shops, haunting the Cup garages at Pocono and much more generated enough material for many years of conversation and reminiscences. It was truly a time of good race fortune.

Fast forward to 2019 and new race car divisions introduced at tracks near us, and Hawk agreed to help me prepare and maintain an entry for one of those. (I thought it might be fun; I had been road racing a little for 7 years and thought to do more.) We looked at race cars for sale in waist-deep snow and towed to the northern reaches of Vermont and New Hampshire before bringing home an appropriate 4-cylinder racer. And with that, our adventures began anew.

We were never going to set the racing world on fire. The goal was, as it is now, just to run some laps before becoming too old to do so, and have some fun in the process. I am happy to report, we accomplished that primary mission. We met some interesting and delightful folks in the process, don’t think we torched too many on-track relationships, and generally had a ball.

During this chapter, hilarity continued unabated. During one feature race at Claremont Speedway, a minor skirmish with a few cars resulted in a cut tire, and I hobbled the car into the pits. Hawk was there waiting of course, and a track official came running over and announced we had 3 courtesy laps to change the tire before the race resumed. Hawk sneered at him and said ‘Let them go. It’s going to take me 10 or 15 minutes to change this tire’. I laughed so hard I almost threw up inside my helmet. So, while NASCAR-style pit stops weren’t our thing, we still had fun.

And that’s the theme here, I suppose. We had a lot of fun, never hurt anybody, and the stories will live on. It’s a pretty good way to live life. I will miss my friend, but am glad for the time we had. Other words are hard to come by, but our conversations, phone calls and adventures all seemed to end with Hawk’s same words, so I will leave them here.

Carry on.