The Hoosier Race Report: Forgiveness and Redemption at Christmas

By Danny Burton

Danny Burton’s Hoosier Race Report appears courtesy of OpenWheelRacers.com

He sat at his writing desk, looking at old scrapbooks of his younger years. The memories and years flew by as he slowly turned the pages filled with pictures of his glory days as a race car owner/race fan/man on the go.

He lived alone now in a nice apartment complex and had little to do with racing and most all of the people in the scrapbook. Many of them were dead; others had faded into the mists. He wondered what had become of a few of them and didn’t miss a few of the others. And then he turned the page one more time before deciding to put the book away.

There it was, the picture that he loved and loathed at the same time. It was a family shot of him and his long deceased wife, Lila and their two kids, Beau and Cecilia. He almost teared up at seeing this one. Those were good times. Lila and the kids would go to each race with him after school was out and they would travel all over the country from June until August.

But the kids grew up, Lila fell ill and passed away, and he’d alienated both of the kids and a few other people too. Cecilia ran off with a racer that her old man had abhorred. And Beau? After his dad had tried to dissuade him from a career in racing, the kid had gone off and went to work for a hated rival. Already reeling from the loss of his wife, the now old man sold his racing equipment and his business that he’d built from the ground up. He retired to this apartment by the ocean with his memories and scrapbooks. Contact with the kids, both of whom had done well, was rare and polite at best. Contact with his three grandchildren was even rarer.

Christmas was approaching and the usual routine had been an exchange of cards and phone calls with the kids and grandkids. Conversation was usually forced, but information and best wishes were always exchanged. The old man was aware that he had created this sad situation.

There were times he cursed the day he fell in love with fast cars on and off the track. There were frequent times that he was bitter about the death of his wife. And he was still irritated that his kids had been so rebellious, even though he knew that they were a lot like him.

He was a modern day Scrooge almost in his disdain for the Christmas traditions. Caroling left him cold. Shopping, or rather dodging shoppers, was a huge pain. He did put up a tiny artificial tree, but that was about it. So he spent a good part of his time reading, watching TV, surfing the internet, and just sitting on his balcony watching the ocean tide do its continuous cycle.

He was doing just that on day in December, watching the ocean when the phone rang. His caller ID showed that it was Beau’s phone number. The old man picked up the phone, said “Hello,” and listened for a few seconds before looking for a chair to sit down. His nice, ordered little world would never be the same.

Beau’s wife was on the phone and she had bad news. Beau had been diagnosed with leukemia and the prognosis was iffy at best. She was calling without Beau’s knowledge. He had not wanted anyone to tell his dad, but figured that the old man would find out anyway. Beau was determined to fight this illness without the old man’s help, or anything else of his. But Emmy, his wife, had other ideas.

A racer’s daughter herself, Emmy knew the situation that existed among her in-laws. She knew that the old man wasn’t getting any younger. And she knew that, in his heart of hearts, Beau loved his dad and wanted a better relationship with him. And when Beau became sick, she saw her opening. Hence, the phone call was made.

After the conversation, the old man sat slumped in his easy chair, staring at the wall. His kid, age 37, was quite possibly dying of leukemia. What was worse, his kid didn’t want him to even know about it. The old man shook his gray head and asked his wife’s spirit/memory, “What have I done, Lila? I loved both of those kids and where did I go wrong?” He knew in his heart of hearts where he went wrong; he was too damned stubborn and that was that. With a heavy sigh, Willis Campbell sat in the chair and made a few decisions in his mind.

First he would check for flights out of the nearest airport for Ohio. He was going to his son’s side, come what may. The young man might tell him to take a flying leap, but Willis would be prepared for that. The old man, if necessary, would simply tell the son that he was ready to stay in Ohio as long as needed, or not. Without telling anyone he would go to his son’s side, Willis picked up the phone.

Eight hours later and 30 degrees colder, Willis found himself in a motel room that looked like any motel room anywhere in America, as long as one didn’t look outside. He’d been quite fortunate in getting a plane ticket and a rental car. Briefly he debated calling Beau at home, and decided to wait until the morning and just show up at the door. Willis read awhile, a book about Abe Lincoln and the Civil War, turned out the light and promptly fell asleep.

The old man slept like a little baby and woke up a bit nervous, but in a good way, he decided. His feeling reminded him of his racing days, when he’d have that great mixture of apprehension and anticipation. He was determined to give this his best shot. And now that he’d decided, he felt rather well about it all, no matter what Beau’s reaction would be.

The hour was 10:00 a.m. when Willis rang the doorbell of his son’s house. Emmy opened the door and the look on her face was priceless. Recovering from her shock, she escorted the old man into the house. Willis explained to her what he had done and why. His daughter-in-law listened and tried to keep from crying. She put an arm around Willis and ushered him to the family room, where Beau was half-lying and half-sitting on the sofa. So on this day, December 22, just past 10 a.m., a father and son began to re-connect.

Beau was a bit ticked at first that his dad had shown up. Then he was ticked that his dad had taken it upon himself to just show up without discussing it with anyone. But finally when he was done protesting, his dad began to speak and make his case.

The old man freely admitted his numerous errors over the years. He cited the death of his wife as being a devastating time in his life, but even that was no excuse for much of his behavior. He spoke of his shame that it took such a nasty disease to bring him back like this. He realized that he’d been too stubborn and unyielding with both of his kids. Way too many bridges had been burned in his life, due largely to his own bull headed ways. And now, here he was. Beau had choices to make. If he wished, he could throw his dad out of the house. Willis said, fine with me if you wanna do that; I might do the same if I was in your shoes. But Willis then said that he’d stay in town until Beau’s situation was stabilized, no matter what Beau wanted.

Beau sat on the sofa, not responding for a long time, just as his mother used to do before speaking. He was searching for the right words. And he was determined not to cry. Finally the younger man spoke to his dad.

Dad, he said, I know that what’s been done is in the past, so I’ll not dwell on it very much. But, as you’ve said, you didn’t make it any easier here. In a way, Beau, said, his dad’s attitude toward the kids had worked out for both of them, who had been determined to prove their dad wrong in carving out their own lives and had done quite well. At the same time, much had been lost and much had been missed by the old man.

For a moment no one spoke. All three, Willis, his son, and daughter-in-law sat there in the family room, each in their own worlds for the time being. After a bit, the old man told the son to think about what had been said and to let him know what was going on. He reiterated his determination to be available until things settled down with respect to the son’s illness.

Willis said his good-byes and left, wondering what the kid would do, if anything. He decided that he’d done all he could for the time being. Later, in his motel room, Willis mulled over the recent events. He knew that he’d done the right thing, but now wondered what was next. Beau and Emmy had told him when and where the chemotherapy treatments would start. All the old man could do was to be on call, as it were.

He knew that, not only his life, but a few others would not be the same. Dynamics in relationships had changed now, hopefully for the better. His son, and his family too, had a very difficult time ahead of them. In racing terms, it was like starting the race in the pits a lap down.

The old man chuckled to himself. Sometimes, not always, good things could come out of bad things. It was sad that it took a serious illness to bring him back to reconcile (hopefully) with his son. But it was good that they were talking and each knew that the other cared. And really, he thought to himself, what else mattered? Willis reached for his book and read awhile. 30 minutes later he turned out the light and fell asleep.

At 8:00 the next morning his phone rang. It was his son on the line.

“Dad?”

“Yep.”

“Emmy has to run to school for a meeting. So we were wondering if you could take me to the doc this morning.”

Willis smiled to himself. “Sure son. I’ll be right over.”

Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve, but for Willis Campbell his Christmas blessings had showed up a couple of days early.

Danny Burton

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