Here is the first edition of a feature by Warren Sparrow that we hope will become a regular on this website.
Enjoy!
-Ed
The Weakly Reader
Vol. I, No. 1
Winston-Salem, North Carolina
1 September 2015
Welcome to the
first edition of The Weakly Reader, a
publication dedicated to the enjoyment of all souls who spend too much time
looking in their rear-view mirrors. It
is the mission of this publication to encourage its readers to keep their eyes
on the road ahead and have a good time doing it.
Perhaps it is
appropriate to get started with a poem published in the spring of 1954 Snips and Cuts, Page 121.
the
commencing
Each one has bold sharp edges on the base
That he has set to build his living on.
And in defense of conformity,
He claims each jutting angle as his own.
He wishes not to differ with his kind,
But elders’ set traditions chafe his wings;
He wants to be a part of life that soars--
Of life that dreams, and does, and life that sings.
The outline of that base pray God to soften,
By some part added here, subtracted there,
So that the whole be separate and distinct,
Yet—part of all that’s best and all that’s fair.
each man be not worn to dreary sameness
each man be not worn to dreary sameness
With every other being placed on earth;
But let his nature, different from all,
Work well with all, that each best proves his worth.
Diana Kay Carpenter
On Page 134,
Mary Ran Norton concluded the “Class History” with this:
They
look back on the friends we’ve made and hope to keep fun we’ve had and want to continue, the Blue Mondays
and
glorious Fridays, the hard work and excitement of
frantic
days and nights filled with laughter and good clean fun.
This
we remember as the height of happiness, our high school days.
But feet were made to go forward, so we must look
But feet were made to go forward, so we must look
for
new horizons, saving a special place for Central and the
class
of ’54.
Three months after our graduation I
decided to “look for new horizons.” My feet and I were on our way to see
a Labor Day event like no other. Here is
part of what the morning paper said about it.
From The Charlotte Observer, Labor Day, 6
September 1954:
46 Run
At Darlington Today
The race of the mile
and thee eighths paved oval will offer a purse of $31,000 before a crowd
estimated to reach 25,000. The
16,000-seat bleachers and grandstand are expected to be filled. Another 9,000 are expected in the big infield
parking area.
* * * *
I went to that race, the first one
I ever saw. It would also be the
last. I was one of the 9,000 The Observer expected in the infield
Sixty-one years ago the front-row
qualifiers were Buck Baker, Fireball Roberts and Herschel McGriff, all driving
Rocket 88’s..
Starting on the eighth row was Herb
Thomas of Sanford, NC, driving a 1954 Hudson Hornet.
Not listed among the 46 starters
was a dude who zoomed around the track in a black Cadillac, turning the fastest
laps of the day. Unfortunately, he had
to change tires more than any other driver.
Therefore, he did not win.
I learned many lessons that Labor
Day. One was to make sure you leave home
early enough to get where you want to go on time, especially if you have to
park a mile from the stands. We got to
the Darlington parking field too late for the start of the race. I was disappointed.
Another lesson learned was to be
prepared for ear-splitting noise. To get
to the Darlington Raceway infield, I had to cross a catwalk which ran directly
over the track. Because the race was
underway, the cars were going all out when I scampered across. The sound was loud, much louder than any
freight train I ever heard. This served me well during my 36 months of living
on an ocean-going airport.
A third lesson learned was it is
true that stock-car racing is not for everyone.
On that day I saw something I had never seen: Women passed out at a sports event. It did not appear that they were drunk. The sun and dust were too much for them. For the first time in my life I had to buy
water. Until then I thought I had a
Constitutional right to free water.
 |
| Hall of Fame Driver Herb Thomas |
Alas, I survived. Herb Thomas won the race, outlasting the
Rocket 88’s. It was the classic
tortoise-over-the-hare thing. His
frumpy, gray Hudson Hornet even looked like a tortoise. The guy in the black Cadillac? He learned some lessons, too. In later races,
he switched to Chevrolets. He must have
read the words of Diana and Mary Ran. His
name? Junior Johnson.
* * * *
 |
| Mystery man in the Black Cadillac, Junior Johnson |
* * * *
The Weakly Reader
Warren Sparrow, Editor and Publisher
1117 West Fourth Street
Winston-Salem, NC 27101
1 September 2015
