6/7/2012- On September 10, 2011, my life and the lives of the people I love the most in this world changed in a way that I never dreamed of. My husband was racing in New Jersey with Ray at a small dirt track. His little brother, Doug flew from Michigan to our house a few days prior to lend a hand with the racing. It was supposed to be a week of fun for the guys while at the same time an educational experience for them. Our son Matthew was going also. Even though Doug and Matt have been around sprint car racing their entire lives, it was going to be good for them to see how you race, have fun and yet maintain professionalism. This was Scott’s job now.  This wasn’t hanging out with guys on the weekend, drinking beer and telling stories. This was serious business and it was good for them to see the business side of sprint car racing. It was good for them to have a task to do, take responsibility and get the job done and of course, win.

Little did we know that day would also be a day that they would experience, quite possibly the most horrific trauma they would ever see. Now I was not there, so the details that I give about that day may not be entirely accurate. Even though I have heard the story what feels like a million times, I don’t think I can comprehend the events that took place and I surely have no time recollection of what happened for several days after that. 

After getting that call from Matt and later from Erin, I waited patiently for what seemed like hours but actually was only a few minutes. Ann, Ray’s assistant called me and told me she had two flights she could put me on 8:00 p.m. or 10:30 p.m. Now mind you, I got the initial call at about 6:00, I think. While I am talking to Ann, all I could think about was getting there. I couldn’t wait until 10:30 to leave. That would put me in New Jersey 6 hours from then. I wanted to be there now. I told her to book the 8:00, I would make it. It dawned on me that I didn’t even know what my name was, let alone be capable of driving to the airport and get on a plane. While I was talking to her, I was trying to pack, trying to take care of things at the house so I could leave. I had to call my bosses, had to call my mom back, had to call my sister. I was on the phone with someone the entire time. Morgan was pacing from her room to my room, trying to pack and trying to comfort me at the same time. She had to grow up so fast that day and thank God she was up for the task. Had I been alone, I don’t think I could have gotten through the next few hours. But she was so comforting, mature and practical. She kept telling me it was going to be okay, just relax, and stop crying.

Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely hate flying. It takes days of mental preparation for me to get the courage to do it. Well, a few cocktails and a few special little white pills help too. But I didn’t have time for that. I had to be ready in about 20 minutes because Ann and her husband were on their way to pick us up and take us to the airport. I barely knew the woman and had never met her husband but I felt a sense of relief knowing she was taking care of the situation and me. Everyone that I had spoke to at Ray’s shop and especially Scott and Ray told me that Ann was the glue that held that place together and I could see why. She was on top of all it and cool as could be the entire time.

It felt like I had just hung up the phone from Ann and she was at the house. I didn’t have time to do anything. I literally threw a pair of jeans, a couple of t-shirts, jammies, toothbrush, toothpaste, contact case and solution and my glasses in the suit case. Ann and her husband, Scott (I know, weird) put Morgan, me and our suitcases in the car and we were off to the airport. That man should be a race car driver because he drove 85-90 mph the whole way to the airport and smooth as silk!! He kept apologizing the whole time, which I found comical because he was doing a great job weaving in and out of traffic. Ann was on the phone trying to arrange transportation for us once we arrived in Philadelphia. I will never forget her tone of voice with the person she was talking to. She was just as stressed as I was and I think a little pissed that she couldn't find someone intelligent enough to help us. She is the type that is all business and if you can’t help her, she will find someone who can. She finally said, “If you can’t help me, can you give me a phone number to someone who can?” I don’t know how the woman does it, but she makes miracles happen and doesn’t blink an eye. A true inspiration.

A million things were running through my head. I have never been to Philadelphia, never been to New Jersey, never been picked up by a stranger at the airport. Never traveled anywhere without Scott. Would my flight crash leaving Scott and Matt alone? Would the driver take us to the hospital? Would he drive us to some seedy place in the city to never be heard from again? I was petrified, terrified, traumatized.

We made it to the Charlotte airport in record time. It took forever to get through security.I honestly didn't think we would make it to the terminal in time to catch our flight. I had never been inside of the Charlotte airport, I had no clue where to go. I am the type of person that gets things done as quickly as possible. It seemed like every one was in slow motion, even Morgan. I am pretty sure I snapped at her several times for not being quick enough. We made it to our terminal with about 30 minutes to spare. I was on the phone with my sister telling her what I knew, which was very little. I really didn't have any details about anything other than it was bad. I was about as hysterical as someone could be without making a scene. I will never forget the woman who sat across from us, she had been watching me and obviously eavesdropping on my conversation. Looking back on it now, I probably wasn't very discreet. She never said one word, just got up and offered me tissues and looked at me with that "I'm sorry" look and she went back to her seat.

The next thing I remember is boarding the plane and trying to gain composure for the flight. In the back of my mind, I thought they would cast his legs and we would be back to North Carolina in a few days. I was sadly mistaken.