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 The
stock car races at Hialeah Speedway may come screeching to a halt. The
owners of the property may forclose.
The speedway has held races on Saturday nights since
1954. Many people feel it will close soon.
I tried to get some people from Coconut Grove to go
out there. Unfortunately, most of the people I asked were going trance
dancing or hip hopping. One woman actually claimed she was attending
Tibetan chanting classes. I couldn't even get my recklessly
irresponsible traffic offenders to go with me, so I put on my
Indianapolis Speedway hat and drove to Hialeah.
The Beach Boys should write a song about the gorgeous
cars and trucks in the speedway parking lot. Those machines are
splashy, sporty, speedy and raceway ready.
The employees of the speedway were courteous and
helpful. I bought a pit pass for $18. They made me sign a release.
Good idea. The contestants drove rapidly to and from the track and
there didn't seem to be a clearly defined pedestrian safety zone.
Visiting the speedway is a glorious trip back through
the time tunnel. The buildings are old. A dozen wrecked cars are
parked near the front fence. I don't know if those cars were wrecked
in the races, or simply were casualties of past demolition derbies. If
only those cars could talk.
The pit area was filled with what appeared to be the
"Hialeah Speedway Alumni Club." Those former daredevil
drivers were making a farewell pilgrimage to the speedway. There were
60-year-old, white-bearded men in faded promotional tee shirts from
speedways and raceways throughout the country.
The Alumni Club had mellowed nicely. They drank beer
and swapped outrageously terrifying stories. The air was filled with
the beautiful aura of nostalgia.
I thought I'd save my outrageously terrifying driving
stories for another audience. The Alumni Club might not be mesmerized
by my tale of being ticketed for driving 15 mph over the speed limit.
The races were exciting. Cars of every size and shape
were entered in the various races. Each driver had his loyal cheering
fans.
There was never a lull in the action. One race was
quickly followed by another.
The General admission area was fairly quiet. The crowd
was enthusiastic, but sparse. The bleachers were only partially
filled. The family section had two families in it.
The refreshment stands were busy. The food looked
tasty and the beer was cheap.
The souvenir stand looked barren. There was nothing
behind the counter that would compel me to part with my money. If the
speedway survives, I hope they upgrade the souvenir stand.
I hope you do survive, Hialeah Speedway. You've
supplied some glorious memories that thousands of people. will cherish
for the rest of their lives.
You've taken some dangerously aggressive drivers off
the streets and put them onto the race track where they belong. And
you've given a tremendous sense of purpose to a lot of people who were
temporarily lost.
I'm hoping for a miracle. I'm hoping to drag that
Tibetan chanter out there to see that checkered flag waving proudly in
the breeze.
REMEMBERING JOE SINDONI
Joe Sidoni, that kind, caring compassionate gentleman, was killed in a
car accident. He was 38. Everyone is heartbroken.
Joe was engaged to Gigi Chirolis. Gigi is a beautiful
soul. And Joe is a beautiful soul.
How beautiful? Hurricane Andrew tore a hole in my
roof. The hole was small, but a heavy rainfall would have turned my
house into a wading pool. There wouldn't be a roofer available for
months. I was despondent.
The next day my roof was repaired. Joe did it. No
charge. What a guy! This was just one of Joe's many acts of kindness.
Thanks, Joe, for keeping me dry.
Joe's funeral was at St. Hugh's in the Grove. Everyone
fought back tears. Lips were quivering, Tears were dropping. It was a
weepathon. It was unbearably painful.
My heart aches for Gigi and Joe's family. I know they
will find the faith to sustain themselves through these dark and
dreadful hours.
Thanks for your friendship, Joe. I miss you. Goodbye.
Butch Warren is a popular, long-time bartender at the
Taurus Chops. He is a regular columnist for the Biscayne Bay Tribune.
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