Tire changer David Mayo: ‘Really relieved when I saw he was aware’
RELATED: Dillon discusses how he is feeling | See the wreck | Junior’s chilling reaction
The normal feeling of elation a pit crew member gets while watching his car take the checkered flag never came for members of the No. 88 team as they watched Dale Earnhardt Jr. win the Coke Zero 400 early Monday morning.
The usual joy was replaced by much starker emotions once Austin Dillon‘s No. 3 Chevrolet went airborne and into the catchfence in the midst of a huge crash — worry … shock … fear.
Then even those emotions were replaced by a greater urgency — the want and need to help.
The men on Earnhardt Jr.’s team — Nick Covey, Rowdy Harrell, Dustin Lineback, David Mayo, Joe Slingerland and Matt Tyrrell — were among the first responders to check on Dillon, who lay in a battered, busted, upside-down car without anybody at the track knowing if he was OK. Or not. They sprinted toward the remnants of the vehicle, as did folks from Casey Mears‘ No. 13 crew, with front tire changer David Mayo getting to the car first and peering inside.
RELATED: Learn more about the 88 pit crew
“When I got to the car, I immediately looked in. Right away, I saw his eyes, I saw he was wide awake,” Mayo recounted to NASCAR.com days after the frightening wreck. “It looked like he was dazed a little bit, but he was aware of what was going on. I kind of talked to him a little bit; my crew chief (Greg Ives) was talking to me over the radio, telling me what I should ask him and that if he was all right.
“I definitely was really relieved when I saw he was aware. That was probably one of the nastiest wrecks I’ve ever seen. Seeing him moving around inside the cockpit, it makes you feel relieved right away. The safety NASCAR has done with the way guys build the car now, it’s huge.”
That wreck and aftermath has become the talking point of the race, which started after 11:30 p.m. ET due to rain and ended at approximately 2:42 a.m. with the 12-time Most Popular Driver taking the checkered flag at perhaps the most historic track on the circuit.
But much like Junior, who immediately radioed to ask if Dillon and the fans were OK and then had a muted celebration in Victory Lane, his crew also was thankful there were no more injuries than there were in winning for the second time in 2015.
“After we found out everybody was all right, we got back to our pit box and had a little celebration, but not a normal celebration,” rear tire changer Joe Slingerland said. “We kind of hugged each other and said ‘good job.’ We felt like that was the only kind of celebration we needed; yeah, we were able to win the race, but what it all comes back to is, we were all thankful everybody was safe and no one got hurt badly.”
RELATED: Ives breaks down moments after crash
Their collective quick thinking and empathy has garnered kudos from a wide spectrum of people.
A fan who was on pit road watching the end of the race near the No. 88 pit box and witnessed the crew’s actions wrote a letter to Hendrick Motorsports President Marshall Carlson, complimenting their courage.
In the social media world, fans, fellow crew members and drivers alike all commended both crews for their collective actions.
Ty Dillon, Austin’s brother, called them heroes.
I could never thank those crew men enough who ran out right away to check on my brother you guys are my hero hope everyone involved is ok.
— Ty Dillon (@tydillon) July 6, 2015
“I think we’ve heard a little bit of that talk,” Slingerland said. “I mean, a hero is maybe kind a stretch. We were just kind of doing what I think any human being would do in that situation. When you see something like that happen and someone else might be hurt, you put a little risk upon yourself to make sure he’s OK. I think most human beings are kind of instinctual enough to do that.”
As most race fans have pointed out, helping a fellow competitor is just what racers do; a clear code that remains unwavering, even if it’s not written down.
That much was made clear when Mayo was asked if he knows or has a relationship with Austin Dillon, the man he sprinted toward to help at 3 in the morning.
“No sir,” Mayo said. “I’ve never talked to him once.”
