Remembering the General, a great friend

Darnell, affectionately referred to as the General on occasion, passed away Saturday at age 70. He might have “retired” but he was still active, as anyone who kept up with him on Facebook could attest.

At one time or another, he worked for NASCAR series sponsor RJ Reynolds, Dodge, the National Hot Rod Association and Bristol Motor Speedway.

It’s unlikely any of the news stories will mention his time at Northeast State Technical Community College, located alongside Tri-Cities Airport in Blountville, Tennessee. But if I remember correctly, for a brief period in between motorsports engagements, he worked there as well.

I first worked alongside him when he was at Bristol Motor Speedway and I was at the International Hot Rod Association, both owned by Larry Carrier.

It was a time when NASCAR drivers and teams were much more accessible and a bit more relaxed. Toward the end of a test session at BMS in the mid ‘80s, Darnell was “prodded” into taking one of the Cup cars for a spin. Try and imagine something like that taking place today.

It seemed harmless enough at the time, but there was one problem — the crew hadn’t slipped the hood pins back into place. As soon as Darnell reached the appropriate speed on the track, the hood of the race car flew up, covering the windshield. I still don’t know how he made it back to pit road without incurring any further damage.

When there weren’t pressing duties at the track to occupy his time, Darnell would often go on the road to assist with the IHRA program.

I think one of the only occasions I ever heard him complain came during one of those ventures. We were just outside of Cincinnati, Ohio, at a track named Edgewater Sports Park and the big news of the weekend was to be the drag racing debut of professional boxer Thomas “Hit Man” Hearns.

Hearns was a big draw at the time, having beaten Wilfred Benitez and Roberto Duran. His drag racing credentials, however, were suspect.

Darnell, who never shirked his duties as a public relations representative, had worked the local media to cover Hearns’ debut. But when Hearns and his entourage finally arrived, Darnell’s responsibilities took on a different look.

“They want me to leave the track and go get him a roast beef sandwich,” an exasperated Darnell said. “Can you believe that?”

Hearns got his sandwich, thanks to Darnell, but I don’t believe he qualified for the race that weekend.

Darnell and I traveled a lot of the same roads at different times in our careers. He covered southwest Virginia sports for the Kingsport Times-News before focusing on racing; I did the same several years later.

We came to know many of the same figures in the coalfields, and years later when we were both on the racing “beat,” some of our most enjoyable times were spent spinning tales about some of the region’s legendary characters.

One that always brought a chuckle from Darnell involved his own high school, whose football coach once actually hid his team’s biggest players during media day activities to keep the local press from telling rival coaches how his team measured up.

But the best times came later, during the postseason and the annual NASCAR awards ceremony in New York City.

It was almost always cold, it was often snowing, or about to do so, and the city would be decorated as only it could be for the holidays.

Darnell was always accompanied by his wonderful wife Jean, who often insisted on taking photographs of our group beside the Christmas tree in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria.

I still have those photographs, and every Christmas I take them out and remember the good times, the laughs and the friendship we shared.

I treasure those photographs today more than any gift I’ve ever received.

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