The year 1993 was a sad year in NASCAR, with the deaths of rising star Davey Allison and reigning champion Alan Kulwicki. I had written a poem about it. The next summer my husband and I went to all of the NASCAR meet’n’greets we could, giving the drivers copies of the poem. One driver we met was Brett Bodine. He was sitting at the table, smiling with what I refer to as his “Public Face”. When our turn came up, he gave us his pic & autograph, and I said, “I have something to give to you.” I gave him the poem. He read it, and I watched as his “Public Face” fell right off, With a tear in his eye, he said, “You know…Davey was my best friend.” He then proceeded to share Davey stories with us. Not a single person in line complained as we stood, listening to him share his memories of his lost friend.
The year 1993 was a sad year in NASCAR, with the deaths of rising star Davey Allison and reigning champion Alan Kulwicki. I had written a poem about it. The next summer my husband and I went to all of the NASCAR meet’n’greets we could, giving the drivers copies of the poem. One driver we met was Brett Bodine. He was sitting at the table, smiling with what I refer to as his “Public Face”. When our turn came up, he gave us his pic & autograph, and I said, “I have something to give to you.” I gave him the poem. He read it, and I watched as his “Public Face” fell right off, With a tear in his eye, he said, “You know…Davey was my best friend.” He then proceeded to share Davey stories with us. Not a single person in line complained as we stood, listening to him share his memories of his lost friend.