Over the years, this job has caused me to miss a lot of dinners, some birthdays, a few family gatherings, and a couple of vacations, but this one really hurt.
I love the U.S. Nationals; what serious drag racing fan doesn't? But yesterday, when my phone rang at 1 o'clock in the afternoon, in the midst of the Pro session, for an instant I hated that I was here.
My youngest daughter, the ever precocious and sometimes ferocious Amanda, had gone into labor three weeks early with my newest grandson, Trevor. I'm not ashamed to say it really busted me up not being able to be there; it took a while to dry those tears. Earlier this year, when her doctor (the same one who delivered her and her brother, as well as my other two grandchildren from my older daughter) gave her a Sept. 25 due date, I was relieved. With a two-week-plus window, there's no way I would miss seeing him born, right?
Well, Mother Nature had other plans, and yesterday at 10:21 p.m., "T-Rev" raced into the world, tipping the scales at 6 pounds, 13 ounces and measuring 20 inches. Obviously, I missed his debut.
My first grandson, Jaden (who can’t quite pronounce "Trevor" yet; it comes out as "treasure" ... awwwww) was born three years ago on May 4, John Force's birthday. My granddaughter, Madelyn, who beat Trevor to the line by about a month, was born Aug. 8, on the birth date of my late, great pal Leslie Lovett. Trevor? He shares a birthday with a guy who loves Indy as much as me, eight-time (soon to be nine?) Indy winner Frank Manzo. At least he carried on the great tradition, even without me.