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Michael Jackson was huge in the world of music. The impact of his death Thursday has been compared to those of Elvis and Sinatra. The iconic man is also being remembered for his sometimes strange behavior and legal and financial problems. That’s appropriate. They were big parts of his life’s story.

I first watched news coverage of his death Thursday on WQAD’s 5 p.m. newscast, then on ABC News with Charlie Gibson at 5:30.

Later I took in some of the special report on CBS with Harry Smith.

Today, Friday, I’ll probably be trying to avoid the coverage.

No disrespect to Michael Jackson, but some of the media have now shifted into “overdo it” mode. The entire “Today” this morning was dedicated to coverage of MJ’s life and death. But I turned it off after watching some talking heads, supposedly legal experts, discussing questions they had no hope of answering: Who are the biological parents of his children? What will happen to the children? How much money, if any, is left in the estate? And on and on and on.

When the “real” news coverage stops and the talking heads’ speculation begins, I tune out.

There are bigger fish to fry: Government violence in the aftermath of the election in Iran, ramped-up attacks in Iraq as our troops prepare to leave the cities there and North Korean missiles purportedly aimed at Hawaii.

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

I joined Twitter a while back. But I canceled my account the same day.

I decided that my “tweets” — the short accounts of what’s going on in my life — generally aren’t that interesting to me so they probably wouldn’t be that interesting to others, either.

Who wants to read, “I shook the cobwebs out of my sleepy head, sat at the breakfast table and discovered that my beloved wife had prepared French toast for me”?

That may be of some interest to someone who owns stock in the companies that make Wonder Bread, Land O’ Lakes butter and Log Cabin syrup. But that’s about it.

Facebook sounded like a better fit for me. But I procrastinated when it came to joining. Even though several of my buddies have been encouraging me for months to open a free Facebook account, I resisted, thinking that dealing with Facebook might be a bit beyond my limited computer abilities.

Then came an invitation to join Facebook from my friend Jon Book. And that got the wheels in my gray matter turning.

Jon is a fine broadcast engineer — there is none better — but I didn’t think he knew that much about computers. In other words, when I had a computer problem at the radio station, Jon wasn’t my first call. Or my second.

But then I get this e-mail saying Jon is on Facebook, and he wants me to join. Wow, did I feel behind the times! After almost passing out from the shock, I thought, ‘if Jon can do it, I can do it.’

And I did. Last night, right after supper. I joined Facebook.

Looking back, it wasn’t difficult at all. They walk you through it. And I’m happy with the results.

By joining I learned that I have scores of friends, relatives and former classmates on Facebook, and I’ve already connected briefly with many of them. From this point on, I can read what they have written and respond to it only if I want to.

If I want to write about my life, I will. But if I don’t have anything to share beyond the breakfast menu, I won’t post anything. Thanks, Jon Book, for nudging me electronically forward.

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.


Phil the reporter and Paul the announcer together in June 1979 at the former Hawkeye Raceway near Blue Grass, Iowa.

Phil the reporter and Paul the announcer together in June 1979 at the former Hawkeye Raceway near Blue Grass, Iowa.

 

Paul and Phil chat during a break in the action.

Paul and Phil chat during a break in the action.

My wife Sherry and I attended friends Ken and Annette Tank’s 50th wedding anniversary celebration Saturday night at the Mississippi Valley Fairgrounds. We congratulated the happy couple on this milestone and enjoyed the PowerPoint photo display of their family history, as assembled by their children.

We saw many friends at the gathering, and we enjoyed a fine meal, catered by Riefe’s, one of our favorite places.

On our arrival, as we got out of our car in the parking lot, I recognized the man exiting the car next to us as Lee Reedy and re-introduced myself to him as it has been years since we’ve seen one another.

Lee was a scorekeeper for many years at Davenport Speedway and other area tracks, and I’d see him regularly back then as I attended races to report on them for my “Around the Track” show on radio.

Knowing that I eventually became a racing announcer, Lee mentioned my mentor and friend, the late Paul Liebbe.

(Incidentally, Paul, whose race announcing career started in 1960, started “Around the Track” in 1965 and hosted the show through 1972 on the former KWNT in Davenport. I hosted it from 1973 through 1990 on KWNT and some other stations — KWPC, WZZC and WMRZ. Paul was semi-retired and living in Florida when he suffered a stroke during a visit back to Iowa. He had spent the evening with me at Tipton Speedway and had even guest-announced some races that night. He survived the stroke but, after a stint in the hospital, he spent his remaining years in a nursing home. He died in December 1992.)

Paul was a knowledgeable, interesting announcer with a memorable Paul Harvey-type voice. The words literally dripped from his mouth like honey. (He kept those great pipes and speaking ability, too, despite the stroke.)

Lee shared a story about Paul Saturday that I can easily visualize taking place.

Lee says they were working together at a speedway — Lee scoring and Paul announcing — when an out-of-control race car took down a barrier protecting the judge’s stand and was headed right for it. Since Lee is still around to tell the story, apparently the car stopped short of hitting the stand. Or if it did hit the stand, Lee escaped injury.

But Lee says while all of this was taking place, Paul jumped clear of the stand and scurried to a safer location.

A consummate professional, the announcer never missed a beat, giving the audience a play-by-play call of the action as it was taking place.

That is, until Lee brought a problem to Paul’s attention.

Lee says he reached down and picked up the end of Paul’s microphone cable, which had become unplugged during Paul’s leap to safety.

No one but Paul had heard brilliant commentary!

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

 

 

Here I am -- younger, slimmer and with no gray hair -- in my associate member days at Durant Ambulance Service. Like they say, "If I'd known I was going to live this long, I'd have taken been care of myself!"

Here I am -- younger, slimmer and with no gray hair -- in my associate member days at Durant Ambulance Service. Like they say, "If I'd known I was going to live this long, I'd have taken been care of myself!"

 

One of the joys of getting out and about is the chance that you’ll run into some long-lost friends. And one of the benefits of seeing them again is triggering your memories of the great times and good stories you share with them from the past.

I recently crossed paths in Muscatine with Durant’s Barb Price and her husband of 55 years, Darrell.

It had been years since we’d seen each other. I used to see Barb a lot, sometimes under less-than-pleasant conditions, like at car accidents, when I was a Walcott Fire Department volunteer and she was a member of Durant Ambulance Service, which is also staffed by volunteers.

In addition to emergency medical service calls in the Walcott area, I’d see Barb at ambulance business meetings and training sessions.

That’s because fellow Walcott firefighters Larry Keller and Kevin Coughlin and I also were associate members of the ambulance service.

We stayed in Durant to help staff the ambulances during busy times, like during the Durant Polka Fest. And we’d assist in other ways. For that we were permitted to attend ambulance training sessions so we could get our emergency medical technician recertification hours close to home.

I retired from Walcott Fire Department in 2003 after 27 years of service. I hung up my helmet because the second-shift job I had at the time was preventing me from attending WFD business meetings and training sessions. Also, I’d come to the conclusion that the fire service, and all that it involves, is better suited for someone in their 20s through 40s than someone in his 50s, as I was then.

Barb told me she also is retired now from Durant Ambulance. It wouldn’t be polite to give her age, but she jokes that she retired after going on a traffic accident call on the interstate and being mistaken by someone for one of the patients.

Seeing Barb reminded me of a couple of stories. One involved the old blue bicycle she used to pedal from Price Oil Co., the family business, to the ambulance building nearby to answer calls and attend meetings.

Once, when Barb left the ambulance building, her bike wasn’t where she had left it. Then someone pointed out that practical jokers had hoisted it onto the roof of the building.

Barb’s a good-natured person. She just laughed and waited patiently while some folks got a ladder and brought the bike back down.

I wasn’t involved in that prank, but I admit I did participate in another one that comes to mind.

Before the Durant Ambulance Service’s building next to the fire station was constructed, the meetings and training sessions took place in a small building that had formerly been home to Durant’s library and, at that time in the early ’80s, was being used as the police station.

One night during a training session, we were learning how to properly package a patient for transport on a backboard. One of the ambulance service members, kind-hearted Emogene Sorgenfrey, reluctantly consented to be our “patient.” That was a decision she’d soon regret.

We carefully applied a cervical collar to Em and placed her on the backboard, completely immobilized and strapped in place with her arms at her sides. She wasn’t going anywhere. Well, that’s not quite true. Though she couldn’t leave the backboard, she was, in fact, about to go somewhere.

Someone suggested carrying the backboard, with Em on it, across the street to the Dew Drop Inn. We did just that, despite her protests, and we deposited our patient on the bar.

Patrons were amused. This had to be a first in the history of Durant.

Em was red with embarrassment but took it all in good stride. Actually, since she was immobilized, she had little choice. Moments later we carried her back across the street and freed her.

I don’t remember Em ever again volunteering to be our patient.

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

 


Jeanette and Don Gartner during a 2005 visit to our home. They survived a 7.1 magnitude earthquake near their home on the island of Roatan, located in the Caribbean Ocean north of Honduras.

 

 

Jeanette and Don Gartner during a 2005 visit to our home. They survived a 7.1 magnitude earthquake near their retirement home on the island of Roatan, located in the Caribbean Ocean north of Honduras.

 

 

What’s it like to experience an earthquake — a giant one — and survive? My cousin Don Gartner and his wife Jeanette can answer that question.

 

Don, a first cousin of famed Iowa newspaperman and Iowa Board of Regents member Michael Gartner, is a retired Boeing engineer. Jeanette is a retired physical therapist. They have a home in the States, where they spend about half of their time each year. They spend the other half — January through June this year — in a cozy hillside home they built several years ago overlooking the Caribbean on Roatan, an island popular with tourists, just north of Honduras.

But their home in paradise shook violently early last Thursday morning (May 28) as the area experienced its first earthquake in nearly 10 years.

Don and Jeanette were awakened a little before 2:30 that day by the 7.1 magnitude quake whose epicenter was less than 30 miles from them.

I first learned of the quake that morning when I checked my e-mail. An e-mail from Jeanette had an attention-getting subject: earthquake survivors. It told the couple’s friends and relatives they’d experienced a large quake and were unhurt.

I found out in more detail what they had gone through when I read Jeanette’s blog (http://jeanettegartner.blogspot.com), “The View from La Puerta Trasera: The adventures of living on Roatan.”

“It was incredible,” writes Jeanette of the tremor. Just prior to the quake’s start, she had awakened from a deep sleep, she recounts, “perhaps sensing something.”

She lay awake for a moment, listening, but heard nothing out of the ordinary. After using the bathroom, she “snuggled back down into bed when suddenly the quake hit, shaking us like nothing we’ve ever experienced.

“The bed was shaking and moving, the floor was moving, everything was rattling and bouncing and we were terrified. The power went out immediately. Total darkness. Once we realized that it was an earthquake, Don said, ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’ We scrambled around, Don found his keys to our gate and we ran out and up onto the road.”

Jeanette writes in her blog that she and Don “could hear people off in the distance, down the hill, down on the beach, all hollering and crying out, some quite hysterical. Soon we saw car headlights, people leaving beachfront homes, heading for higher ground, fearful of a tsunami.”

A tsunami alert was, in fact, issued for Central America’s Caribbean coast after the quake but was soon cancelled.

“That never even crossed our minds, never having experienced an earthquake while also on an island, but Don said later that we were too close to the epicenter to have any tsunami effect here. We didn’t know how close (the quake) was, but it sure felt like it was right under our house. In fact, it was 27 miles away — close enough.”

Jeanette writes that some friends, Dennis and Merlin, called them to see if they were OK.

“We were, and so were they. We heard our neighbors, Chuck and Tia, driving down to their church and missionary inn near the beach, checking on people and bringing some of them back up to their house on the hill above us. Dennis and Merlin’s kids, who live down the hill from us, came up the hill, also fearing a tsunami. Lots of people were sitting outside, talking and waiting to see if it was all over.”

There wasn’t much sleep for anyone on Roatan after that.

“The sky was completely clear,” notes Jeanette in her account. “I’ve never seen so many stars before, including the Milky Way, which we seldom can see in our urban home in the States.”

She checked a hummingbird’s nest she’s been keeping an eye on to make sure the babies hadn’t been thrown out, and they had not.

“We found our oil lamp, lit it and went around the house, checking for damage. My lamp and a glass of water had tumbled off my bedside table. A couple of pictures fell off a wall and table. The fire extinguisher fell over (and thankfully didn’t discharge all over). Nothing fell out of cabinets or off shelves. Amazing. A few cans fell over inside the cabinets but nothing broke.”

Many along the northern coast of Honduras were not as fortunate, mainly because of flimsy construction, according to news reports. Several people were killed and scores of people hurt when some 60 houses collapsed. Many buildings received minor damage. But it could have been a lot worse.

Jeanette reports their house did not appear to have sustained any structural damage, and their power came back on about three hours after the quake, which really surprised them.

The Gartner’s friend Dennis said he had been getting phone calls Thursday morning from people in Canada and the States, and the shaker was already worldwide news.

“(So) I immediately sent out e-mails saying we were OK, then called my parents, fearing that my dad would have heard and been worried. My dad doesn’t do e-mail, and I knew my mother would still be sleeping. Thankfully, my cell phone worked, and I was able to let them know we were fine.”

Like others who have come through a variety of natural disasters in one piece, the Gartners have paused to reflect on happened. And how the outcome could have been a lot different.

“We are feeling very blessed today…,” Jeanette’s blog concludes.

Added note: Jeanette tells me in a June 4 e-mail they’ve had 300 aftershocks since the original quake. Wow!

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

Friends and relatives are asking — somewhat timidly in some cases — what I am doing to occupy my time now that I no longer have a job to report to. They ask cautiously, I think, because they may be afraid I’ll tell them that I lie sadly in bed all day. Or I sit in a chair gazing at a blank wall waiting for the phone to ring with a job offer. Or I drag my sorry self around the house sulking at the bad hand I’ve been dealt.

The truth is, I do none of those things. That’s just not me. Life’s too short to walk around worried and depressed. With the condition of the media in general and broadcasting in particular these days, I expected to lose my job sooner or later. And I’m resigned to the fact that there probably aren’t going to be any reporter job openings in these parts for a while.

My wife, Sherry, has a good job, we had time to accumulate an emergency fund, we have some savings, we have little debt and my former employer gave me a generous severance package. So I don’t fill my days fretting or wondering about the future. Things will work out. They have when I was “downsized” three times before this in the past 44 years.

So here’s the answer to the question. Here’s what I do each day. First, just like I did when I was working, I still rise a little after 6 a.m. to spend some time with Sherry before she leaves for work. I still stay up late just like I did as a second-shift radio newsman. And I still take a midday nap just like I usually did before reporting to work at  2 p.m.

But instead of going to work I now spend the day accomplishing a variety of tasks and crossing them off a checklist in my computer as I get them done. I do routine things, like mowing the lawn. And I do some not-so-routine things, like plumbing repairs.

Here’s what I did today: I read the morning paper cover to cover as I sipped coffee and listened to the news on TV. I walked to the post office and picked up our mail. Then I read it when I got home. I installed some new pull handles on a drawer that needed rehabilitation. I loaded some dishes in the dishwasher and washed the dishes in the sink. I sorted through and analyzed all of our life insurance policies (something I’ve wanted to do but haven’t had the time to do for months) to determine if our coverage is still adequate.

I checked my e-mail several times and  wrote some e-mails. Two of our four children called, and I spoke to them at length on the phone. I fed the cat and had some lunch myself. Today was garbage and recycle collection day, so I put away the garbage and recycle containers after they’d been emptied.

I spent a few minutes relaxing in my workshop, puffing on a cigar while watching a re-run on TV. I helped clear the table after supper, which Sherry had prepared after coming home from work. I made an online donation to the Cancer Society because my friend Brian is going to walk 12 hours straight to raise money to fight the disease and needed pledges.

I conducted a 45-minute phone interview for a freelance magazine article I’m writing. I watched a few minutes of evening TV with Sherry and sat in the hot tub with her to unwind. I checked out a blog written by my cousin Don’s wife, Jeanette, about the tropical island on which they live.

Now Sherry’s in bed, it’s after midnight and I’m writing this blog. When I retire in a few minutes, I’ll read myself to sleep with something from the nearly 2-foot stack of books and magazines that Sherry complains about beside my bed.

As you can see, my day was varied and full, and that’s the way I like it. Sure I thought at times about my former job but only in the context of how much I miss seeing my former co-workers.

And I tried once  or twice to imagine what new, interesting job might be awaiting me in the future. For the length of my severance agreement, though, that job cannot be one that would violate a non-compete clause that is part of the agreement.

Hey, maybe I’ll just be a Wal-Mart greeter!

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

 

Jim Bohannon, left, a nationally syndicated radio talk show host and a panelist and the keynote speaker at the 2009 Iowa Broadcast News Association convention in Ames, chats with Phil.

Jim Bohannon, left, a nationally syndicated radio talk show host and a panelist and the keynote speaker at the 2009 Iowa Broadcast News Association convention in Ames, chats with Phil, whose wife suggests he become a Wal-Mart greeter.

It’s always struck me as strange or ironic or laughable when someone wins some sort of recognition or praise for his or her work, then promptly gets fired for some reason or another.

With a bit of a twist to it, that’s what recently happened to me. Clear Channel fired me Tuesday as one of the three news reporters/anchors remaining at WOC-AM, one of their six-station cluster in the Quad-Cities. Then, oddly enough, I won awards for my work Friday at the AP Broadcasters Association convention and Saturday at the Iowa Broadcast News Association (IBNA) convention, both held in Ames, Iowa. Go figure.

To be honest, my firing was about Clear Channel’s finances — not about performance. I was told that several times as I was ushered out the door.

Of the 590 people fired nationwide April 28, eight lost their jobs in our shop. That included two news part-timers who only worked on an on-call basis to fill in for full-timers during illnesses, vacations and the like.

(Seven Clear Channel folks in the Quad-Cities were among the 1,850 the company fired nationwide Jan. 20, the first of the two firing days that some are now calling Black Tuesdays.)

The awards I received last weekend for my work in 2008 at news/talker WOC-AM were in the large market radio stations category. I got:

* Second place for Best Newscast, AP.
* Second place for Public Affairs Program, IBNA.
* First place for Excellence in Writing, IBNA.

There usually isn’t any applause when the awards are announced at the IBNA awards banquet. But I got some Saturday from my IBNA buddies who knew I’d been terminated and might be picking up my last-ever plaque ever. That clapping was a much-appreciated parting gift from them.

I also left the IBNA Board of Directors Saturday night after roughly five years of service. Saturday marked the conclusion of my year-long stint as immediate past president. My friend, Jim Mertens of WQAD-TV, now assumes that position on the board.

With the sorry state of big corporation-owned radio stations and the radio news business these, I’ll probably have to choose another occupation for my remaining working years. (My wife says tongue in cheek I should become a Wal-Mart greeter.) And, in the future, I can’t remain a regular member of IBNA unless I am a working broadcast journalist. But I can join as an associate member.

Perhaps I’ll do that and attend next year’s convention.

So call it strange or ironic or laughable — or all of the above — because it was. I was fired Tuesday, then won some coveted recognition from my peers on Friday and Saturday. I’ll add one more word for the weekend to strange or ironic or laughable. It’s bittersweet.

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

 

I've had a chance to meet some interesting people, some famous, like actor Hal Holbrook, shown in this 2004 photo at WOC, and some not so famous.

I've had a chance to meet some interesting people, some famous, like actor Hal Holbrook, shown in this 2004 photo at WOC, and some not so famous but still interesting.

The Clear Channel ax fell again yesterday, April 28, 2009. And I, along with some of my friends, got hit. I knew it was coming sooner or later. Of course, I would have preferred later. At age 60, five or six years later would have been great!

I’ve worked in commercial radio on a full- or part-time basis most years since I started as a country music deejay on my 19th birthday March 1, 1968, at the former KWNT-AM&FM in Davenport. This was while I attended St. Ambrose, where I got my radio start at the college stations, KSAR and KALA.

I originally worked weekends at KWNT. Then, later in ‘68, I sold radio advertising (for a straight 10 percent commission) between college classes and spun records weeknights at KWNT. There have been other stations — and a switch to news reporter and anchor, a good fit for an older guy — between then and now.

I provided the following statement about my firing yesterday to the media who asked for my reaction to it:

“I am passionate about the news business and have truly enjoyed my association with WOC Radio, where I’ve had an opportunity to meet and work with a lot of fine people.

“Fellow newsmen Mark Minnick and Nick Linberg were not just co-workers, they’re good friends. 

“I have been affiliated with WOC since 1997 and a full-time employee there since 2002. But departures have always been part of broadcasting. I knew that when I was hired, and it’s my turn to move on.

“As for the future, the Quad-Cities area has always been my home, and that won’t change. I have a lot of varied interests and intend to pursue them here.

“I believe when one door closes, others open. I’ll be checking some of them out in coming weeks and months.”

First, though, I want to take some weeks or months off and assess things. Today, one day after being let go, I am trying to get used to my new schedule. My wife has helped by providing some assignments, such as “Now you’ll have time to sort through those boxes in your office.”

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

As a working broadcast and newspaper journalist, I don’t believe I should be donating money to a political candidate or party that I might later be reporting on. And I shouldn’t be taking part in a protest for or against some issue I may be assigned to cover. That doesn’t look good for someone whose goal is reporting stories fairly and accurately.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions. We all do. And that doesn’t mean I don’t support or oppose certain candidates, elected officials or parties.

My close friends and family members know all too well how I feel about a variety of issues and public officials. The rest of you find out what’s going on in the deep, dark crevices of my gray matter now and then only through my occasional column in “The North Scott Press” or through this blog.

Today, I want to say a few words in support of the tea party protests that are going on.

Some critics say they’re being organized and attended by conservatives — Republicans who are unhappy with their loss of power and want the Obama administration to fail or at least look bad.

I don’t think that’s it at all. That may apply to some tea party advocates, but most of the tea parties’ support comes from both sides of the political aisle and from independents, too.

They’re not about political parties. They’re about good, working-class Americans who are fed up with high taxes and escalating fees at all levels of government and want to make a public statement about it.

They’re about people who are sick to death of excessive and wasteful government spending that’s putting future generations of Americans deeply in debt.

And tea parties are about calling for an end to bailouts for greedy people on Wall Street and mortgage lenders who are made some ill-advised loans and large companies so poorly managed they deserve to go bankrupt and fat cats who, while making big salaries and bonuses, are commanding sinking ships.

Tea parties are an indication that a growing number of people are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. These are people who ultimately are going to take back control of their government not by violence but by throwing the bums outs — using the ballot box to call home those wasteful spenders and tax-and-fee elected people in their cities, states and country.

Who is the government? It’s we the people.

Tea parties are about taking names now and taking action in November.

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.

Don Bohlander, shown in this 1966 photo, once gave some useful racing advice to Jim Gerger about getting around the turns at Peoria Speedway. Photo from the Phil Roberts collection.

Don Bohlander, shown in this 1966 photo, once gave some useful racing advice to Jim Gerber about getting around the turns at Peoria Speedway. Photo from the Phil Roberts Collection.

 

Advice. Whether you want it or not, you receive tons of it when you go through life.

Much of it’s common sense. It comes from folks who learned things the hard way and want to save you from doing the same thing. They advise things like, “Don’t spit in the wind.”

Some advice is humorous. Mark Twain says, “Be careful about reading health books. You might die of a misprint.”

People — including race drivers — tend to remember the good advice they get and forget the bad advice.

Take longtime eastern Iowa hotshoe Steve Johnson. He once said the best racing advice he ever received was, “If the radiator fits, go for it.”
Back in his early years of racing, Dale Fischlein of Fletcher, N.C., was told, “Don’t pretend to know everything; listen and learn. Try to learn something every day. Accept criticism to better yourself.”

An informal survey of other drivers, both past and present, yields some interesting results.

Mike Duvall, the famous “Flintstone Flyer,” began racing in 1968. He won 700 races in his Late Model career, including the prestigious World 100. These days he stays busy building race cars and operating a race driving school.

Duvall, of Cowpens, S.C., was brought up to believe “you are what you think you are,” and that’s been his motto.

But he has also received advice from others that has led to his on-track success.

“Back in the late ’60s, me and Freddy Smith was always one of the winners,” Duvall recalls.

At one particular race that Smith won because Duvall admittedly was “all over” the track, Smith’s father, Grassy Smith, told Duvall, “Son, if you’d quit runnin’ so hard through them corners and going over the bank, you would outrun us.

“You run us down and catch us, but then you run wide open after you pass us and go over the bank. You need to learn how to make that circle and use your foot instead of your hands.”

Duvall remembers replying to him, “What are you talkin’ about, old man?”

Grassy Smith continued, “Just think about it. You can run us down. You pass us. And then you keep running harder, harder and harder until you go over the bank, and we end up winning the race.”

Adds Duvall: “Freddy was standing beside him, and he said, ‘Daddy, you ought not tell him that!’”

“So I started doing that, and I started outrunning Freddy about everywhere I went,” Duvall says.

“You come up through building cars, and you have all kinds of tips and you try a lot of things to make cars faster. But going back, it just comes to my mind that that driving tip really helped me more than anything.”

Racers can be helpful that way. Duvall says Grassy Smith “was just that kind of guy; he’d help anybody.”

Roger Dolan of Lisbon, Iowa, winner of the NASCAR Weekly Racing Series national championship in 1987 and numerous other titles during his storied career, says he got a lot of advice over the years from a lot of people, including Cedar Rapids legend Darrell Dake.
Dolan guesses the many little pieces of advice Dake offered added up to some big results. An example?

Among the words of wisdom from Dake was, “You’ve got to race for the money.” Dolan notes that “none of us are wealthy enough to race without winning some money.”

Dolan also passes along this racing advice he has given to others over the years: “You have to learn by doing. The more laps you turn, the better off you are.”

Noting that racers sometimes tend to overdrive their ability, WORLD Dirt Racing League star John Kaanta of Elk Mound, Wis., says someone once told him, “Sometimes you have to slow up to go fast.”

That’s a good one.

Retired Iowa race driver and promoter Jim Gerber says he once got some good advice from fellow competitor Don Bohlander of Glasford, Ill. Gerber wanted to know how to get around the tight corners of the quarter-mile dirt Peoria Speedway, where Bohlander raced regularly, without hitting the imposing wall.

Bohlander told Gerber not to look at the wall as he made his way through the corners.

“Look at where you want to go, not where you don’t want to go,” Bohlander advised.

Leon Zeitner, an Omaha Late Model driver who started in 1982 and has some track championships to his credit, says someone — he can’t remember who — once told him, “If you want to make a small fortune, get into racing with a large fortune.”

A lot of racers would probably say “Amen” to that.

Hershel Roberts of East Moline, Illinois, has been racing most years since 1968.

His best racing advice came many years ago from the late Midwest racing legend, Ronnie Weedon.

“Ronnie told me, ‘Everybody wants to win a race. Go out there and do your best and run clean and fair, and it will come around,’” Roberts remembers.

Greg Walters of Bancks, Ore., has been racing Dirt Late Models since 1998 and has seven championships and nearly 100 main event wins to his credit.

Walters say he received some valuable advice from his father and mentor, Doug Walters, who died in August of 2008.

“Worry only about yourself and your own racing team instead of what others are doing,” his dad told him. “The more time you spend worrying about others, the less time you have to focus on your plan.”

Mert Williams of Rochester, Minn., who competed from 1952 to 1982, didn’t get much advice from others.

He says his experience was, drivers were tight-lipped about their “secrets” back then.

“There never was much racing advice given out by anybody,” Williams says. “You kind of learned everything the hard way. If you told somebody something, they’d probably beat you.”

Copyright 2009 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises. This article appeared in the May 2009 issue of Late Model Illustrated.

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