Our Journey Together Part 3: Three Fingers High

The First ‘Greatest Day’ of our Life Together

A few times every vacation, there are moments of pure magic. Ivana and I shared many magic moments during our first big vacation. Planned in the blue folder, (read part 2) we were driving to Atlanta for a NASCAR race, then on to Florida for Disney and spring training baseball.

Atlanta is a fun town to navigate by car. There are a lot of ‘Peachtree’ streets. Roads, crescents, boulevards, and trails as well. We didn’t always have Google maps to help us out, either. Over the years, “Peachtree Street” would become an inside joke between the two of us, referring to any navigational clusterfuck.

We enjoyed playing tourist on Saturday, and ate dinner at a local sports bar, where some fellow Canadians had already secured the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey game on a couple televisions. A quiet night for us, before a busy day.

A Magical Sunday

The thing about sporting events and vacations in general: You never know when an incredible lifelong memory will occur. Turned out that a NASCAR race on a Sunday in March was one of the most important days of our lives, never to be forgotten. It was the day I knew I had someone very special.

Dale Earnhardt is the G.O.A T. Richard Petty might have 200 career wins, but the greatest NASCAR driver of all time is definitely Dale. He passed away after a brutal crash in the tri-oval on the last lap of the 2001 Daytona 500. NASCAR had lost its greatest hero, a man of the people. His death shook the entire racing world.

The race in Atlanta was only 3 weeks later. I had ordered tickets back in the fall, we had great seats, row 18, a few hundred meters from the start/finish line. High enough to see the entire track. We spent the morning touring the various exhibits and shops. The weather was perfect, and the Georgia sun was beaming down through a cloudless sky.

The pre-race festivities were fun, the anthem well sung. The Air Force flyover was very cool, surprising us as it approached silently from behind our grandstand, then was wicked loud as the jets passed over our heads, red, white and blue streams behind them. The massive roar from the fans was almost as loud as the jets.

To honor Earnhardt, the third lap (his car number was three) of the race was run in silence, zero noise but for forty-three engines. Every member of the crowd held three fingers high. The teams along pit road held three fingers high.

Tears were everywhere. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never heard 120,000 people so quiet, so respectful, so united in grief. It was surreal. Ivana understood. She felt the emotion emanating from the crowd. She had tears for a driver she barely knew anything about. It was her first live NASCAR race, an incredible introduction.

The entire grandstands full of people is standing with their hands in the air, 3 fingers raised in salute
Three Fingers High. Honoring a legend. Credit to author.

An emotional appetizer for the main course still to come.

Someone had to replace Dale Earnhardt as driver for the race team. That someone was a brash young California kid, Kevin Harvick.

The car number was changed to twenty-nine, and the main colour was changed to white. The pressure on Harvick would have been intense. Replacing a legend?

Harvick did, of course, have incredible crowd support, and as the laps wound down, the crowd was on its feet. Kevin Harvick was in the lead!! The crowd’s joy was tempered by the fact that the fastest car on the track was Jeff Gordon’s number 24 Chevy. Jeff was an established young phenom himself, a cup champion, and the anti-hero to the Earnhardt crowd.

‘For all these Fans!?’

Earlier in the race, the 24 had run out of gas, and the crowd had cheered its approval! To have Gordon beat Harvick was unthinkable, like rubbing salt in an open wound. Yet every lap Gordon was gaining, and he was going to catch Harvick. The crowd could tell, we knew that much. But would he be able to make the pass?

Ivana had been intently watching the crowd as much as she was watching the race. She leaned over to me and loudly asked “The twenty-nine has to win, right?? For all these fans??” So like Ivana, she wanted the fans to go home happy. A large, bearded man behind us wearing camouflage-style Earnhardt gear answered her.

“He’ll win. Dale’s driving.” He stated it as an unquestioned fact, took a sip of his Budweiser, and gazed over the track. There was zero doubt anywhere in the man’s face.

Over 120,000 fans held their breath as the white flag signified the last lap of the race. Harvick trying to hold on, driving as much in the rear view mirror as through the windshield. Side by side, the race cars roared off turn three towards the checkered flag.

About exactly even, they crossed the white and black checkered finish line. For a second, the crowd held its collective breath, we were not certain who had won. The crowd believed, but had that tiny bit of doubt you get when you desperately want something to happen. Eyes to the tall scoring pylon, standing behind pit road. Twenty-nine remained at the top.

Harvick’s white 29 touches the start finish line only a foot ahead of Gordon’s 24.
Harvick beats Gordon by a foot! Photo credit: NASCAR photos

HARVICK!!! By less than a foot, Kevin Harvick beat Jeff Gordon to the line, and won.

The crowd. I’ll try and describe the emotion. But there are no words. The palpable relief, the intense ecstasy, the incredible joy, the profound sadness.

All at once. Like a flood, drowning every spectator. Wave after wave. Immeasurable.

Tears streamed out of several eyes. It didn’t matter whose driver’s gear you were wearing, this was an emotional race, and the only proper outcome.

The raw emotion was on full display as fans, including the man behind us, loudly proclaimed who deserved the credit.

“You just know Dale was in there with him!”

“Everybody knows Dale was driving that car!”

Through tears and rubbed-red eyes, Dale Earnhardt fans were remembering who this win was really about. Their hero. In retrospect, I know this was an important part of the healing. Yes, healing. I think Ivana was in a state of shock for much of the celebration. One hand wiping away tears, while the other had three fingers held high. Switch hands for the other eye.

After a cool down lap, Harvick did his burnouts with his arm stretched out of the window, three fingers in the air…the crowd roared again!!!

The newest champion of the people continued his celebration with a backwards lap, three fingers still extended. The crowd continued to cheer and hold up three fingers. While some fans were starting to get their belongings together to leave, the vast majority were not in any hurry to go. Let this last. Let us savor this incredible moment. The trophy presentation and interviews still had many of the fans in the stands.

Ticket stub for the March 11, 2001 Atlanta NASCAR race. Signed by the race winner, Kevin Harvick

So much raw emotion. Pretty much every person. The most tears I’ve ever seen at a sporting event. Nothing else comes close. Not live. Not ever. I had tears. Ivana had tears. Ivana understood. We had not only witnessed an exciting race with an incredible finish. We had witnessed an event. A life-long highlight. The kind of event you retell in a book two decades later, arms covered in goosebumps as you type. I must have had something in my eye while I was typing, remembering the emotion of that day.

Don’t stop buying tickets!

One of our very best memories together. I will always remember that Sunday in Atlanta as the day I knew I had someone really special. Ivana had just been her usual wonderful self, but there was more. There was something in how she had embraced the day, and loved the new experiences it brought. I could tell that travelling with Ivana would be awesome, that she would always be up for some new adventure, always willing to immerse herself in different environments.

As we drove south on interstate seventy-five, Ivana worked the ‘Triptik’ to calculate our estimated time of arrival in Orlando. I looked over and thought “You are too special, I am not going to let you go.”

After the race, we drove in mostly silence, too wired to be tired. By the time we made it to the interstate, it was fully dark. Our car snacks went untouched, but we sure emptied a few water bottles. The little conversation we did have centered on the race, remembering little details and anecdotes. I guess we were emotionally exhausted but physically wide awake. Quiet contemplation, then a burst of laughter and conversation, before quiet would again take hold.

We stopped at the Florida Welcome Center. About midnight. We took a picture. I wish I could find it.

There was a steady flow of cars and people, but no one was hanging around. Stop for a bathroom break, orange juice, and maybe a quick picture at the ‘FLORIDA’ sign. Gone in five minutes. At ten minutes, dads started getting annoyed, checking watches and counting children. Only the dog walkers were forced to spend a couple extra minutes in the warm Florida breeze.

Ivana and I were leaning against the car, clearly not in a hurry to go anywhere. We had parked a little up from the washrooms, so we had more quiet. I had remembered the smell of Florida air and the vegetation that grew there since I was young, and my grandparents had a place in Florida. I was breathing it in, feeling good.

Ivana gave me a hug, and thanked me for an awesome day. “All I did was buy us tickets,” I replied, “You can’t plan the magic, that wasn’t me.”

“No”, Ivana replied, “But I’m not here, and I don’t feel the magic, without you buying us tickets and bringing me here. For that, I thank you.” Her arms already around my neck, Ivana gave me a big kiss. She pulled away, suddenly, and walked around the car to the passenger side door. I turned to face her, feeling very good about myself.

As Ivana opened the door, an order was issued. “So don’t stop buying tickets.”

“Okay then.” I nodded back. I must have had a massive grin as I gave the universe a fist pump, opening my car door. Let the adventure continue!

I miss her so much.

Tag: Dale Earnhardt

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