"Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Engines!"
The 33 Cars "Going Green" |
I've literally grown up hearing those famous words spoken over the loud speakers at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, followed by 500 of the most exhilarating miles of auto racing in the world! This year marks the 25th anniversary for what has become a tradition for the Keller family.
May 1987
It was 1987, I was just a few days away from my 12th birthday and I had just finished my 5th grade year in school. I remember my dad coming home from work one day and asking me if I'd be interested in going to the Indy 500 with him. It sounded great and so that Memorial Day weekend, we took off in our little family motor home, drove the 2 1/2 hours to Indianapolis and spent the night in someone's yard a mile or so from the track. I still remember my dad telling me over and over again, "Don't tell your mother what you saw tonight..." as we drove past the throngs of people partying in the streets around the track.
Al Unser Sr.'s Car - I remember it like it was yesterday! |
Al Unser Sr. won his fourth race in 1987. His fourth victory represented our first in a family tradition that would forever bond my father and I. The Indianapolis 500 represents so much more than a race to me. It represents a marking of time throughout my life. It is one of a few common shared experiences I can count on each year.
Race Day... A Tradition Itself
Though the years, we've weathered rain & shine, hot and cold, and even a tornado a few years back. Once we got rid of the motor home, we began waking up at 3:30 am and driving to Indy the morning of race day in our minivan. Dad and I always loved getting to the track early while the air was cool, the bleachers weren't crowded and we could watch the track come to life. Our tradition remains the same. Park at 21st Street and Auburn in somebody's yard. (Parking Prices have went up since we first began...) And carry our cooler full of soda, sandwiches and snacks the 1 mile walk to the track. (We tried taking ice cream one year but it didn't really work...)
There truly is nothing like race day at Indianapolis.
The View from our Seats |
The sounds of people and police cars. Vendors calling for your attention and someone interviewing a driver over the loud speaker. The first glimpse of the track, as we crest the stairs of Paddock A, always brings tears to my eyes. I can't help but hear Jim Neighbors in my head singing, "Back home again in Indiana."
It always seems that each year as dad and I reach our seats, we turn, face the track, put our arms around each other and he says, "Well son, we made it. Another year..." There truly is nothing like Indy...
The Teen Years at Indy
My Junior High and High School years at Indy, became a bit of a yearly rite of passage. What began as just my dad and I added my older brother Nick, as well. (For years Nick always went to the race with a friend who took an entire tour bus.) Race weekend became a special time of celebration we would share together as another school year ended, another birthday for me was around the corner, and our lives were moving forward. It was also during my high school years at the track that we added another member to our party...
I remember the first year I took my high school sweetheart, Sarah. (she's now my wife, by the way...) I remember telling her that when they drop the Green Flag and you see 33 cars flying down the front straightaway at 230 MPH, it will be one of the most exhilarating experiences of your entire year! Her disbelief of that statement a few weeks before, turned to pure joy and utter amazement moments after she saw that first Green Flag fly!!! And yes, she's been hooked ever since.
Our Seats are up under the canopy. 50 Rows Up, between the start/finish line and the scoring pole on the right! |
A Changing Tradition
The race weekend tradition changed in 2002, when I moved my family to Fort Myers, Florida to start the church we now pastor, Next Level Church. Unfortunately, we launched the church on Mother's Day which was just a few weeks before race day. I remember saying to my wife upon realizing that the church would only be 4 Sunday's old on Memorial Day weekend, "Honey, what am I going to do about the race?" To which she promptly replied, "Well, you're not going... of course."
My response to her was a solemn, "I know." The year we started our new life in Florida was the only 1 of the 25 years, that I have ever missed the Indy 500. I remember coming home from church that day and turning on the race, only to turn it right back off again. It was just too painful to watch. I made the right choice, but it was a hard one.
By the next May, the church was strong enough that I could afford to miss a Sunday, and therefore resumed my annual sojourn to the Speedway. But now it would have to be by Airplane, not car, motor home, or minivan. 5 years ago, mom and dad retired and moved to Florida with us. But distance can't keep us from Indianapolis on race weekend. Whether by plane, train or automobile, we'll be there on Race Day.
On the Track on Race Day w/ My dad and brother |
The Tradition Continues
This year, our 25th year, marks yet another turning of the page at the race track... For the first time, I'm bringing my son.
My oldest son, Will, graduates from 4th grade on Friday, & therefore will be deemed a 5th grader, thus making him old enough to attend the race. (At least according to his grandpa...) And so, this year the baton will be passed to yet another generation. I can't imagine the emotion I'm sure I will feel this weekend as the Green Flag drops and I hold my son up on the back of the bleachers of the front straightaway. I remember like it was just yesterday my dad holding me there.
I have grown up at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, seated next to my dad, watching the cars, cheering the drivers each Memorial Day. It thrills my heart to no end to think that this year while I'm seated next to my dad, my son will be seated next to his dad watching the green flag fly. I'm sure it will be the most exhilarating moment of our year.
Happy Race Day Everybody. Here's to traditions...
Matt Keller