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| Betty, Lisa and Jim Packard at Indy 500, May 1960 |
I was born to a millionaire, he didn’t know it then. He still had races to win and years to live. He would have let me work with him in the business because he trusted my mother and I am smart and business-minded like her. He would have built a great empire in the racing world had he lived.... I would have been treated like a princess, a real southern brat, I mean belle.
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| Dan Wheldon with the Borg Warner Trophy |
But it didn’t work out the way it was supposed to. My daddy was killed in a race car in Fairfield, Illinois on my mother’s birthday, October 1, 1960. I was 11 months old and missed him every day. I wondered, ‘where was my kiss, daddy?’, ‘where was my daddy?’ My mother, being very pregnant with my brother couldn’t answer. It seemed she was choosing, maybe protectively, to stare out the window without a tear. Being stoic she felt was the best way to handle his death, but in so choosing a wedge was driven between us no one could ever figure out how to remove. She has grieved him more in later life it seemed than at that moment, and now I understand people grieve in different ways. I learned to understand her and let go, but even with understanding the wedge remained to remind us of our loss.
My brother, on the other hand, grieved a grief few know of; when we were young and skipped school together and sat by the creek smoking mom’s Viceroys, he would say as he looked at me, “I never felt my father’s touch.” .....What could I say to his pain? How many kids have their father die while they are in their mom's belly? I just puffed and handed him the cigarette for his turn…. within a few years I would do the same with a joint and we would feel a bit mellow, even though the pain remained and does still.
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| Dan Wheldon died October 16, 2011 |
I was at a race a few years ago and happened to turn my head at the right time to see a young girl of maybe 10 or 11 reach up on tip toes to give her daddy a hug. He was dressed in a driver’s suit and turned to walk after his car as it was being pushed towards the starting line. I choked on my emotion and I couldn’t breathe. If there is a God, please don’t let that be the last time she gets to hug her daddy.
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| Dan Wheldon at Las Vegas Raceway where he died on the track 2011 |
It happened again... Today, another child’s daddy taken by the track. His boys looked so young and oh so sweet in all the pictures I poured over. I was driven to find pictures, driven to relive what happened, as if somehow watching the horrific crash would scald into numbness the pain still residing in me.
No such luck, the witness, the pictures, the YouTube, made my pain more sharp and raw.
There is nothing left to say, there are no words, yet I'll steal a phrase from a woman who's experienced such pain and sorrow, "death comes quietly as if on cat paws in the night".
6 comments:
I love you, Momma. As soon as I heard of this I thought of you, Grandma and Uncle Jim. Things like this aren't supposed to happen anymore.... Love you.
..................... thanks sis
*I* was at this race - honest! - and it was in MY hometown - a very small southern Illinois "town" - on a dirt "horse-racing" track at the Wayne County (IL) Fairgrounds out west of town on Main Street in tiny Fairfield, Illinois (62837). It was to be the big highlight of the annual Wayne County Fair, on a still-warm Saturday night, October 1st 1960. I had just turned 13 less than 2 months earlier ...
Many of us in the grandstands saw a huge cloud of dust as Jim's car veered out of control, then tumbled end-over-end, then over the guard-railing (wooden fencing?) as the car entered what would now be called "turn 3" on most oval tracks; after running at top speed "down the back straightaway" - in a south-to-north direction on the east side of the fairgrounds track.
All further racing was halted, of course, as word of this terrible tragedy spread like wildfire thru the audience and, indeed, out into the midway of the fairgrounds.
In a tragic irony, the Fairfield Memorial Hospital could clearly be seen not terribly far - maybe 1/2 mile? - immediately east of the race track itself ... but the injuries to this fine, up-and-coming driver were simply too severe.
I've never forgotten that night over my entire life ...
R.I.P. Jim Packard.
Last Friday, the day before my brothers 51st birthday, the brother that has been forever traumatized by the death of our father while he was in utero, I received a gift of unbelievable proportions! Tom H. left a comment on my post about my fathers death. Tom H was at the track a young bright eyed 13 yr old on a night that would for many, become unforgettable. His description of the events that took my father from this earth have been a rare and unusual gift. Thank you Tom H. Thank you!
Dear Lisa, we know your father Jimmy from 1953 to 1957 when he was stationed in Berlin Germany as a soldier. He was a friend to our family and we all loved his ever friendly kindness and his always happy smile. A fine gentleman. Today we came together and did,remember the time and as well did speak about Jimmy. I than took the initiative to look for Jimmy in the internet and found your blog. With heartful greatings from Germany - Lars
Lars I am Jimmy's grandson. Are you willing to tell me more about your time with him? My name is Owen and my email is owenbeaudry@gmail.com if you care to contact me. I would really appreciate it and I'm thankful for your kind words about him. I never met him but my entire family says I look like him. Thanks again- Owen
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