The Hoosier Race Report: The Scholar

By Danny Burton

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

Mike and Jimmy made their way back to the pits, dodging the pit traffic, stopping and talking to various people, and discussing whether or not to go to Lawrenceburg the following night, or follow the United States Auto Club sprint cars to Illinois. Seeing that Mike lived in Madison, Indiana, just down the river from Lawrenceburg, his mind was made up. As they neared the bulletin board, there they saw another of the “loose confederation”, namely the guy that they called “The Scholar”.

Scholar was what all the guys called him, mainly because he was a professor at the local university, Indiana University by name. His real name was Donald (always Donald, never Don and certainly not Donnie) Walter Scott. Like his namesake, Sir Walter, Donald/Scholar was a lover of reading and occasionally writing, too. Donald was a professor of American History, specializing in the Revolutionary War. But his somewhat secret love was sprint car racing.

The guys didn’t care that he was a college professor; they enjoyed his company, even though the Scholar was a very quiet man. Rarely did he speak unless spoken to first. But when he did speak, he was friendly enough. He would come and go from the group all evening, going off alone, only to return when least expected.

As time went on, little bits of personal information leaked out about the Scholar. He was debating retirement as Mike had done; certainly he was eligible age wise and time served. He was single, widowed actually. He had three adult children and four grandchildren. Once in a great while he and Mike would make plans for an early dinner before the races on a Saturday night. On those occasions, racing was usually discussed, but Mike had read enough history to ask the Scholar questions about American presidents, or whatever. None of the other guys knew that the Scholar had been of great assistance when Mike was going through his divorce, as had the guys themselves.

The “B” Main lineups were posted and the Scholar was writing them down. Jimmy walked up and rather than look at the lineups on the board, he looked over the Scholar’s shoulder as the prof scribbled the numbers.

The Scholar sensed that he had company of a sort and looked over his shoulder at Jimmy, then grinned. Jimmy gave him a friendly elbow and said, “It’s true, isn’t it?”

Scholar assumed a serious look and asked, “What is that, James?”

“You guys write about as good as pharmacists, don’t you?”

Both Mike and the Scholar chuckled. Mike finally spoke. “Scholar, he has you there, bud.”

Jimmy said, “So where is our buddy Benson starting here?”

Scholar re-checked his lineup. “Not bad, really, Jimmy. Inside second row in the second B.” He squinted at Mike, “What is this I was hearing about Benny offering you a job?”

Mike had to laugh. “No secrets around here, huh. Yes, but not a paying job. I’m gonna go over there now and see what they are up to. See you guys later.”

Jimmy and the Scholar ambled away as Mike shook his head. Jimmy was talking non-stop, complete with his signature gestures, while the Scholar merely nodded.

Mike watched his two friends until they were almost to the pit gate and then he heard the public address announcer say that this would be the last heat for the super stocks. The new retiree mumbled to himself and walked over to see how his buddies, the Bensons, were doing.

Meanwhile, the Scholar and Jimmy were over halfway back to join the others when the professor casually mentioned to the younger man to go on ahead, he’d be along soon enough. Familiar with the quiet man’s habits, Jimmy said okay and moseyed on while the Scholar headed for his car.

No one knew where the Scholar went whenever he would go off by himself, nor what he did, though on occasion they wondered. They might have been disappointed, though not necessarily, to learn that the solitary man would most always approach his car and get out his cell phone. Then he would call one of his kids and talk with them for a bit. After a couple of minutes, he’d ask to talk with his grandchildren. And always his children (or their spouse) would chuckle and get one of the kids to the phone to talk with Papaw. Rarely did the Scholar smile, but if one had seen him talking with his grandchildren on the phone, they would have seen a lonely man grin from ear to ear.

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