Small-town team contends 'we're not in over our head' (cont'd)

"We've worked hard, we've barely missed races this season," says Swing, who grew up in a racing family in Cleveland, about halfway between Toccoa and Dawsonville. "It's just hard being out of the top 35 to make 'em, especially if you're an independent team. But we just keep going hard at it. The team's got a lot of heart and that means a lot.

"You've got to enjoy it to stay in it. Sometimes you've got to have the money to survive."

E&M Motorsports (top) is revving its engine in sleepy Toccoa, Ga.

The clock tower on the Stephens County courthouse still keeps perfect time, according to my watch. It's a little past 3 and I'm looking for a place to park the truck in the shade. John Carter won't be back from Winder for another hour, so I swing by downtown.

The manicured courthouse lawn is a beautiful shade of mint, but across the street, it's a different story. The old downtown is nearly deserted. Large chunks of plaster are missing from some buildings. Others have boarded-up windows and doors.

Later, inside the Dairy Queen -- and what small town doesn't have a Dairy Queen? -- I notice a framed painting showing Toccoa 50 years ago, in all its glory. There used to be a Belk and a Rexall and some clothing stores and an auto parts dealer, and people would fill the parking spaces to shop downtown.

Those stores are still in Toccoa, only they're on Highway 17. When the highway was built, most of the downtown businesses opted to relocate. At some point, city leaders tried to resurrect the downtown by making a pedestrian mall. Instead, it's just a mass of concrete slabs and cement pavers, and feels like a man-made, solar powered blast furnace in the middle of July.

Only a handful of folks were browsing the few stores that are left. The driver's license office was getting the most business. The only person who appeared to be happy was the man who had just exited the loan office and loudly exclaimed to no one in particular, "Only three more payments to go!"

According to the bank thermometer, it's 90 in the shade and beads of perspiration are now beginning to cover Charles Swing's cheeks and the creases in his face. He takes his job very seriously, but his features betray him as the type of man who loves a big laugh now and then.

This job certainly fits that description. He's trying to prepare two cars for Indianapolis Motor Speedway in a clean but cramped garage no bigger than a Jiffy Lube and it's just him and a skinny kid named Johnny who has an advantage because "he's small and can get inside these cars," admits Swing, who could probably get through the driver's window but it might be a snug fit.

"They're Evernham cars and they've been real good cars," says Swing. "You've just gotta put what you can put into them. My crew chief's in Charlotte and he's got good resources and passes all the information to me.

"If I don't have it, I can get it here overnight, any parts I need. The bigger teams, everything is in-house, which is a big plus. Other than that, it's what you put into them that makes them run good. And if you get yourself a good driver in there who's not afraid to mash the gas and confident in the team that's working on the car, you can be successful."

According to WNEG, the Braves are now winning, but Swing, who's wearing a red Braves T-shirt and shorts, doesn't have time to pay attention to things like ballgames right now. There's country music blaring over the noise of the big propeller fan in the back that's desperately trying to stir up some cool air on this sultry July afternoon.

The garage is air-conditioned but Swing would rather run the fan and save the money. When you're pinching pennies, it's all about putting money into making the car go fast, not creature comforts.

"You go up [to North Carolina] and it's nice," says Swing. "I've set my car up at Front Row Motorsports and they've got a lot of equipment up there.

"You don't have to worry about nothing. If you need a milling machine, it's there. Just having the equipment to do stuff with makes life a lot easier."

The office at E&M Motorsports is spartan at best: a long table and three folding chairs. Taking a break from race preparation, Swing and Doug Barron, who helps handle the team's publicity, are checking out the upcoming auction of McGlynn Racing's equipment. The No. 74 went out of business earlier this season and Swing is making a wish list of what he sees on the Internet.

E&M doesn't scrounge for equipment, but why pay full price when you can get the same items at a steep discount?

"There's stuff rusting in the back of some shops in Charlotte that we would drool over," says Barron.

Toccoa is in the extreme northeast corner of Georgia, where the Appalachians fall off to the Piedmont. It's a pretty place but not a tourist destination, unless you include Toccoa Falls. Located on the grounds of a small-town college, for a minimal fee you can walk through the gift shop, hike a couple hundred yards down a gravel path and experience unbelievable beauty.

Unfortunately, Toccoa Falls provided some unbelievable tragedy on a rainy November night in 1977. As the students and faculty slept, the dam that holds Kelly Barnes Reservoir failed, sending a torrent of water smashing into the campus and killing 39 people. (Continued)