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HE’S DEAD, HE’D DEAD, I KNOW HE’S DEAD
I can tell you, this is the mildest of my stories and when you are a track promoter, you get some doozies. When those stories include motorcycle groups, you really have disaster.
This one dates back to my days as the promoter at Thompson Dragway.
Just to set the tone, the shutdown area at Thompson Dragway is angled so that once you pass the finish line, it drops off and you can not see the shutdown from the start. On the same token, you can’t see the start from the shutdown.
We’re running a motorcycle event and this guy makes a run. Just shy of the finish line this guy’s bike goes into a speed wobble and while it looks like he is going to lay it down, we didn’t know for sure. Sure enough, he laid it down and slid off of the side of the track into the adjacent grassy area.
I make the ride down to the shutdown area and sure enough, he’d wrecked. You could tell he was a bit tattered, but okay. He was standing up and had the bike stood up, surveying the damage. That was as sane as this story would get.
We walked up to the guy and asked him if he was okay and he nodded yes. Then we told him that it is our standard procedure to take someone who has been in an accident to the hospital to be checked out. He adamantly said, “I’m not getting into that ambulance and I’m not going to the hospital. I’m not going.”
We shrugged our shoulders and said, “Ooooookaaaayyyyy.”
Then we heard the sound and the situation just degenerated from that point.
Mmmmmmrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmm – you hear this car coming down the track and this is definitely no Pinto or Vega. It’s a big, 5000-pound four-door hooptie Cadillac.
It is this guy’s wife and she’s yelling as loud as a person can yell.
She’s screaming, “He’s dead. He’s dead. I know he’s dead.”
At this point, she pulls over into the grass at 80 mph. The car goes into a spin as she loses control. We ran away. Even the rider abandoned the bike and took off running; he barely gets out of the way.
About that time, she nails the bike and blasts it into about 4,000 pieces.
The car finally comes to a stop and this guy, without a word said, strolls over to the car, yanks her out and cold cocks her.
Meanwhile, me and the guy that rode down with me, and the ambulance personnel all looked at one another in shock. What can you say? It is what it is.
We go over to the guy and say, “What are you doing?”
“She destroyed my bike!” He said.
We ended up taking her to the hospital and as far as him, I have no idea what happened with him.
He left the race track and where he went I don’t know. We never saw this guy at the track again.
