NASCAR

Happy anniversary to Cam, my beloved Camaro

Posted on by Kat

cam-at-newcastle

I will never forget the first time I saw Cam.

It was Christmas Eve, 21 years ago. I was going through a hard time after several things I had set my sights on had not worked out. I was driving aimlessly, listening to music, passing time and trying not to feel all the hurt in my life.

And then, I looked over at a car dealership off the expressway and there she was. It was the flash of brilliant red that caught my eye. She was parked under the portico, with one of those Jesus lights on her. Well, I call them Jesus lights. They’re the ones they put over cars and jewelry that when you see them, you hear a choir of angels singing.

Now this might sound kind of strange to people, but since I was a little girl, I had dreamed of a red sports car. But as the years passed and I grew older, I never saw one like it. Not until this night. See, they hadn’t even made this car when I was a child. Oh, they had Camaros, all right. But they were a much different shape and body style than the one I saw in my dreams.

But suddenly, on a lonely, dark, cold and snowy Christmas Eve, right out of a child’s dream, there was the flashy red car for which I had longed.

I pulled off the expressway and took the side streets to the dealer. I honestly expected the car not to be there, for it to have been a figment of my imagination. But no, there she was. I knew she was a girl and I knew her name before I got out of my own car to look at her.

“Cam,” I whispered. Her name came to me right then, like I had known it all my life.

Something in that car spoke to me. Oh, it isn’t like I heard an actual voice, but something in her called to my spirit, made me feel peaceful and no longer sad. It was like she wiped the darkness away from inside of me.

I walked all around her, admiring every angle, every detail. I loved the rectangle headlights, the length of her hood, the slant of her back glass. She was exactly as I had dreamed about off and on throughout the years and I could hardly believe I wasn’t dreaming right then.

I sat down on the cold pavement beside her, but I didn’t feel the slightest chill. She made me feel warm and happy, and the only way I can really get close to describing the feeling was it was like I had come home. Until then, I didn’t even know I had been away.

I don’t know how long I stayed, marveling at this wonder. They say there is a magic at Christmas, and I felt it then like at no time before or since. This was my car. She had been made for me, destined to be with me before she was even designed.

I know this may be a little out there for some people, but I also know other people will know exactly what I am talking about – when something is so perfect and delightful that you can’t believe your luck, fortune, chance, destiny, kismet, providence.

It took me three days to make the purchase. The dealership was closed that night, and the next day. But I spent time away from work Dec. 26 to test drive her, work on the deal and try to get financing. It went through Dec. 27 and they called to tell me I could come get her. What they may not have known was that I had visited her each night since and I could hardly wait to bring her home.

In fact, I was standing there beside her when they opened Dec. 26. I was waiting there to make a deposit so she wouldn’t get away. When the salesman asked me if I wanted to test drive her, I laughed. I said that would be fine, but it wasn’t necessary because I knew she was meant for me. He said he had never heard someone say that before. (I did drive her, and when I returned, he said he was worried about whether I would come back.) The growl of her engine just thrilled me to my core then, as it does still.

Today is our anniversary; I have owned Cam for 21 years. I know it isn’t usual for people to keep a vehicle so long, but then, she isn’t just a vehicle; she’s a friend and daughter. She has taken me away from unsafe situations and taken me to wonderful destinations. She has taken me across the country twice, and to lives in many different states. She has known all five of my German Shepherds. And she has never left me stranded.

We have gone on many adventures, and I spend a lot of time taking good care of her to make sure she runs well and looks beautiful. We’ve attended many car shows and won some awards. We’ve driven on a NASCAR track and raced at a drag strip.

For many of her years, she was my only car and we have racked up more than 200,000 miles together. Two years ago, I was fortunate enough to purchase a second vehicle, so she doesn’t have to be driven in harsh weather.

All these years later, I still get a thrill every time I see her, every time I sit in her seat, every time I turn the key. I always look back at her when walking away. And when I am having a less-than-great day, just the sight or thought of her makes me smile and feel at ease.

Happy anniversary, Cam. Here’s to many, many more.

NASCAR, nudists, firewalking and the Green River Killer do not equal a bad job

Posted on by Kat

firewalker

Being a newspaper reporter is one of the worst jobs you can do, according to a report released by Career Cast.

The report cites “fewer available jobs, a worsening industry forecast and paltry pay” as reasons for the ranking.

Those are real conditions and fears. Other studies cite the danger faced by reporters, some of whom are killed while doing their jobs.

I mourn them, and agree that the newspaper landscape isn’t as rosy as it once was. But even though I was in some dangerous positions and did deal with low pay as a newspaper reporter for much of 30 years, I am here to tell you, that job has been awesome.

There was the time I spent covering NASCAR for a small community weekly paper. Going to races, and being in the pits with the cars, drivers and crews, was so much fun. Tell me you wouldn’t have gotten a kick out of walking by drivers like Davey Allison, Darrell Waltrip, Ernie Irvan and Kyle Petty and having them call you by your first name.

There was the time I got to spend weeks with a police officer and his new K9 partner, attending their training sessions and learning about the bond dog and man form during that precious time before the pair puts their life on the line in the streets.

I even got to take my German Shepherd to a world-class K9 training facility and get instruction on how to teach my pup in German, something I have done with every one of my shepherds since.

The night R. Cork Kallen taught me about mind over matter, and I then walked on a bed of nails and on a bed of red-hot coals, changed my mindset about my limits. If I could focus and do those things without being injured, I could do anything. I still believe that to this day, and that one experience has allowed me to be brave enough to try things some people will never have the courage to try.

I was a “celebrity judge” at events too numerous to count, but they included pies, cakes and ice cream; singing and dancing; and counting nudists at a Guinness World Record attempt for the most people at a naked skinny dip.

I reviewed concerts and restaurants, and covered and/or met celebrities, rock stars and two presidents.

I got to try my hand at beekeeping, indoor skydiving, roller derby, race car driving (NASCAR again!), stand-up comedy, and making ice cream and butter just by using ingredients and a glass jar. I got to be the grand marshal in parades and the girl who waved the starting flag at a race. And I became what I call an expert for a day on many topics, including maple syrup making, cake decorating, quilting, base jumping, breakdancing and skateboarding.

I got to write about and participate in the search for a little boy who was missing in the freezing cold overnight. I cannot to this day describe the jubilation we all felt when he was found curled up with the family’s Golden Retriever.

I wrote stories about a man who lost his legs in a fire – how he lost his job and home after that and how he needed help. The day he drove up to my newspaper office and got down out of a van donated and equipped with hand controls by a local dealership, and came in to thank me for changing his life, still makes me cry.

I covered the aftermath of the Oklahoma City Bombing, arriving on the scene less than 12 hours after it happened, when you could still walk right up near the front of the building. No pictures, and not even video, ever did the destruction justice.

In my years covering crime, I got to meet and help many victims and/or their families with the way I treated them and my stories, and I was privileged to have their trust.

With much investigation and several factual stories, I helped keep a wrongly accused man from going to prison. And I will never forget him leaping toward me, picking me up in the courtroom and swinging me around, calling me his angel after the judge announced he was free to go.

I met and interviewed killers, some of them who had committed absolutely horrifying crimes, in my attempt to understand why such things happened.

I covered the entire case of Green River Killer Gary Ridgway, from his arrest to his sentencing. I even have a copy of the book I co-wrote about him with his signature and a message from him inside it.

So, when someone announces that the job of a newspaper reporter is one of the worst jobs, I just shake my head. In my opinion, it was the best job anyone could ever have.