Dispatch: Chesterfield, MO

Another hurry up and wait morning at Ed Bozarth Chevrolet. JJ is producing and directing a Fireball Run documentary for next year, so every morning, regardless of where we are, we parrot a familiar theme. The Legendary Ron Seggi, otherwise known as the Johnny Carson of radio, holding his surgically attached stick mike in his right hand, dapper in his red blazer and shiny shoes, thanks the local mayor and chamber of commerce for hosting the event. We take a group picture after which Ron repeats familiar formalities and concludes with, “FIREBALLER’S GO TO Y0UR CARS.”

Our Cliff Notes tour of America began with a 30 second visit to the Harry Truman Presidential Library, followed by a similar visit to take a picture of 200 year old hair at the hair museum. Nasty business that! In Marshall, MO we had a lunch in a charming little town square built to honor Jim the Wonder Dog. Jim was famous for predicting things, kind of like the World Cup squid and the tic-tac-toe playing chicken.

For some of us the competition has become secondary, and this afternoon a group of us decided forego time for culture. Our final challenge of the day was to locate and tour the studio of a world famous American sculptor. We were greeted by Don Wiegand, whose work is on display all over the world and who lives and works in a magical studio near St. Louis.  He lovingly restored and converted a 19^th century slaughterhouse into a home/studio that he makes available to the public. I am going to try to make time to return to Mr. Wiegand’s home with my KlaasKids team when we converge upon St. Louis in two weeks time.

My friend Don Levin met me at our finish line at St. Louis Motor Sports this afternoon. He only stayed around for about half an hour, but it was good to see a familiar face. During my brief speech I talked about domestic sex trafficking and could tell that my audience was flabbergasted by the statistics that I provided. I hope that they are getting something out of this and that I am not bringing them all down after a day of fierce competition.

Afterwards I went to a nice Italian restaurant with Valentino and some other Lamborghini enthusiasts. One man in our party explained why he buys and drives insanely expensive and fiercely competitive cars. “Having a fine car on the road is like having a beautiful woman in your bed. You don’t look at a beautiful woman and pat her down with towels. Instead, you put her through her paces, take her deep and satisfy your lust. Similarly, on the highway you should put a great car through its paces. Drive it fast, gear it often, and savor you good fortune.” Oh, and the food was good too.

Dispatch: Topeka, KS

Another day of thrills and spills as the Fireball Run races across the USA. We spent an hour at a manufacturing plant and thirty seconds at the Eisenhower Presidential Museum. Nice statue!  At Heartland Park speedway in Topeka I rode in a special edition Lamborghini on the track and at dinner I talked about the changes that have occurred since Polly’s tragedy.

I broke in my new partner today. In January 2005, Rob McConnell’s two year old daughter Bianca Vaminik was kidnapped by her non-custodial mother Eva Vamanik and taken to Indonesia. He hasn’t spoken to Bianca since. In those few times that Eva contacts Rob she goads him about not sending presents to his daughter, but she refuses to provide an address. The FBI told Rob that if he can convince the mom to return to the United States they will serve her with an International Parental Kidnapping warrant. The high end penalty for international abduction is less than that for illegally copying a DVD. To that end Rob has resorted to using social networking to locate Bianca and her non-custodial mom somewhere amongst a population of 245,452,739 people.

This morning we staged at the Dodge City Speedway and raced school busses around the oval track. The bus I drove wasn’t nearly as fast as Valentino Balboni’s screaming orange Lambo. Valentino is a Lamborghini legend who has been with his company for more than 40-years. He personally test drives every Lambo that leaves the factory in the small Italian township of Sant’Agata Bolognese.  Valentino was calm, cool and collected as he screeched around corners and unloaded on the straight-aways at Topeka’s Heartland Park at speeds exceeding 175 mph. I may have put his consul in a white knuckle grip, but I have to admit that it was the most thrilling ten minutes of my life.

One of our challenges today was to take a picture at the Atomic Cannon. At 83-tons with an 84-foot barrel and a range of 20-miles, the Atomic Cannon was developed in the 1950’s to fire an Atomic artillery shell. Who comes up with this stuff, and did somebody really think that was a good idea?

Our evening reception was at Ed Bozarth Chevrolet in Topeka, Kansas. I talked about the changes that have occurred since Polly’s tragedy. I figure that I need to provide new, good information every evening as part, albeit a small part, of the reason the Fireballer’s signed up to learn about this issue of my life. After we checked into our hotel we hung around the Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka RV sipping bourbon and winding down from an intense day of competition.

Dispatch: Dodge City, KS

Death Race 2010 is upon us. Moments after leaving Lubbock this morning, John received the dreaded news that his mother-in-law had died at 2:00am. He knew that it was imminent and had spent hours the day before consoling Meredith as she helplessly watched her beloved mother weaken and then finally succumb to the ovarian cancer that she had battled courageously for the past eight months.

I put our assignments back into the envelope and drove John to the Amarillo International Airport, where his secretary Caroline had booked a flight so that John could return to his family. Instead of rejoining the game, I drove to our hotel in Kansas City, thinking about my own father’s fragile health. When I called to tell him that I loved him my mom explained that he had checked into the Intensive Care Unit at Monterey Community Hospital earlier that morning. My dad has been spending too much time in the ICU lately.

A State Trooper pulled in behind me right after crossing the border into Oklahoma. I checked my speed, made sure that I was not exceeding the limit and maintained a steady pace as the trooper followed closely. By the time he turned off 30-minutes later I was ready to pull over to the side of the road, raise my hands and throw myself at his mercy.

Tired of eating too many burgers and beans I went to a Mexican Restaurant run by Mexican’s after I arrived in Dodge City. Mistake! That was some of the nastiest shit that I have eaten in some time. Speaking of shit, when I mentioned that Dodge City smelled like shit I was told, “No, it smells like livestock.” I think that livestock is a sanitized definition of shit.

We ate dinner at Dodge City’s Boot Hill where they served quesadillas and fried rocky mountain oysters. I declined several offers.

I told the Fireballer’s why John had left the competition and many if not most of them expressed their condolence and prayers. Things will not be the same without him, but if any trip is truly predictable, it’s not really an adventure after all is it? I hope that John will be able to rejoin the rally when we arrive in Galena, IL on Saturday.

Dispatch: Lubbock, TX

The State Troopers who escorted us out of Gallup, NM stayed with us for a couple of hours. When they finally waved our caravan on we were traveling somewhere beyond 100 mph. I have no expectation that I will receive such a friendly gesture the next time a State Trooper catches me traveling somewhere on the far side of 100 mph. I drove the Camaro today and John and I won this phase of the Fireball Run. We were greeted by city officials and other well wishers at the Overton Hotel, our check in point. One of our missions was to purchase non perishable food items for a local food bank. I believe that more than 3,500 items were ultimately tallied up.

If I were to do another road rally, I would definitely put in some serious training. The competition gets frenzied and exhausting the closer we get to the finish line each day, with competitors foot racing to various check points and upon completion of bonus adventures. This friendly but fierce competition is where the real fun is. Certain vehicles seem to always be on the leader board and it is becoming apparent who the eventual winners are going to be. Hopefully, John and I will make the cut.

This part of America tends to be flat and the roads seem to extend beyond the horizon. The Lamborghinis take advantage of this opportunity to open up their throttles. They are awe inspiring as they leave our lesser vehicles in their dust. Makes you wonder why the first five cars to the finish line today were three Camaro’s, one Vette and a rented Dodge Charger.

It was not a good night. JJ and I got into it yet again and seem to be as compatible as oil and water. I doubt that KlaasKids will participate in the next Fireball Run. Hopefully, things will tone down as we move deeper into the competition. I know that he is trying very hard, but believe that his organization is understaffed, leaving too many details unattended.

Seriously, why are the American cars running circles against million dollar Lamborghinis? Has the quality of the American automobile evolved so quickly? I know that our stock Camaro is a beautiful machine that has an unsurpassed head turning capability.

Dispatch: Winslow, AZ

Here’s an interesting tidbit for you. During our morning briefing we learned that the Gallup, NM Boys and Girls Club doesn’t have any computers. Not one! As it is our current destination the Fireball Run generously purchased 5 laptops for the young boys and girls in this impoverished community.  After a heartfelt appeal, the players, led by John and I, coughed up enough cash to purchase 6 more laptops that will be presented to the Boys and Girls Club upon our arrival. Sometimes winning isn’t the only thing, or even the best thing. Sometimes, paying it forward trumps all of the other benefits.

John and I learned a very humbling lesson yesterday. We were strutting at 2p.m. and slinking by 5p.m. because one miscalculation repositioned us from first place, for the day anyway, to near the bottom. So, we have changed our strategy to friendly, not aggressive competition, which is giving all of us better opportunities to get to know one another. The Fireball Run players are a high energy bunch that likes to drive fast and push the envelope, but above all they are smart and strategic. So far, only one car has received a speeding ticket. He tried to buy his way out by giving the Highway Patrolman a couple of missing child flyers, but to no avail.

When we pulled into Winslow, Jackson was standing on the corner, casually leaning on his guitar with sightless eyes fixed on the trinket shop that was playing the familiar music. We ate lunch on the only patch of grass within a 50-mile radius, walked the town and handed Hasanni Campbell flyers to as many of its 10,000 residents as were willing to brave the heat. My impression is that there is not a lot to do in Winslow, Arizona and I think that even Jackson Brown and the Eagles would get a little stir crazy hearing the tune that immortalized this tiny little town looped endlessly over cheap speakers for all eternity.

UPDATE: Gallup may be impoverished, but beautiful murals grace many of its public and private buildings. The lack of material goods is balanced by the rich, artistic and spiritual cultures of more than30 separate ethnic populations. We talked to the Mayor about KlaasKids returning to provide safety and fingerprinting seminars to all of their young children.

The reception in the town square was very well attended and the Executive Director of the Boys and Girls Club was visibly moved when presented with the new laptops.

Dispatch: Grand Canyon

The two days I spent in Henderson was the longest week of my life. The real entertainment didn’t begin until after last night’s Chamber of Commerce party. We experienced setbacks and stand downs. The Zen Master’s 1909 Model T sputtered to a standstill off the side of the highway, spark plug wires fused to the engine block, as copious amounts of smoke blended with the Vegas smog. This morning we emerged united in purpose, with our eyes to the road and a true sense of adventure in the air.

John stayed with the Model T, lighted only by a full moon while I drove the Zen Master back to the U-Haul truck and trailer that he wisely brought along for just such an eventuality. We pushed the old car onto the trailer and at 9p.m. embarked upon a treasure hunt for spark plug wires. Two stops later we delivered cable and a crimping tool back to the Loews Resort and watched the Zen Master jerry rig cables only to discover that he’d cracked his engine head. Undaunted, he went to his room to contemplate his next move.

Back in the lobby we had a philosophical discussion with the event coordinator and eventually agreed to disagree. It’s funny how heat short circuits emotional connections as it unifies new compadres in purpose.

John doesn’t snore…much! Whew, and I was worried that I wouldn’t get to sleep at all last night. When we finally did get up early this morning the sun was shining, a breeze was blowing, the smog had cleared, the Zen Master had magically found not only an engine head, but a mechanic to replace it. When we bid our new friend farewell at the starting line he said that he’d buy us a drink after he joins us in Williams later tonight. You know, only a Zen Master would believe that he could drive a 100 year old car 3,500 miles across the country and have the inner peace to navigate the challenges of age and make it really happen.

Dispatch: Las Vegas Motor Speedway

I am awed and humbled. The early arrival reception was held on a terrace at the Lowes Resort overlooking Lake Las Vegas. The sun set as drinks were poured, hors d’oeuvres were served and the full moon rose over the Black Mountains. Fireball Run participants and Henderson Chamber of Commerce representatives circulated during the official meet and greet. Inevitably, as I shook hands and introduced myself to my fellow travelers, they launched into monologues about the missing kids that they represent. Many had contacted the families and/or local law enforcement agencies to get case updates. Many had distributed press releases about the cases and some received recognition in local newspapers, television and radio stations. It is good to see that otherwise dormant cases are receiving attention.

We went to the Las Vegas Motor Speedway this morning for our Fireball Run orientation. Things started slowly as more participants straggled in, forms were filled out, decals were attached to the vehicles and copious amounts of water were consumed as the heat on the tarmac surged toward triple digits. The schedule became a memory as the time trials began and we threaded the cone track. At the end of the day our screaming Camaro LT had the third best time on the cone track. Not bad for a couple of rookies competing against Lamborghini’s, tricked out Mustang’s and a very peculiar but cool 1909 Model T. I doubt that we will win many races, but nobody will forget our intensely awesome lime green chariot.

In the Bay Area a hot day is anything over 80-degrees F., so standing on the Speedway tarmac, in the Vegas desert on a sunny September day is a lesson in real heat management. Copious amounts of water are consumed, shade is a luxury and a convenient toilet is a necessity.

Is the lesson of the Fireball Run going to be about the convenience of the Men’s Room? I sure hope not, because as much as I love my Camaro, there is no bathroom in the back seat.

Dispatch: Lake Las Vegas

The Fireball Run is finally coming together. I arrived at the Lowes Lake Las VegasResort and checked in without a hitch. The first person I ran into was my new friend Paul Nigh, who is driving the Fireball Run in his Back to the Future Delorean. Does the fact that he has a flex capacitor put the rest of us at a disadvantage? Well I hardly think so, because I am picking up my cousin and team mate John Klaas at the Hard Rock Hotel early tomorrow morning in a lime green 2010 Camaro LT that has been generously donated by General Motors. From there we drive to the Las Vegas Motor Speedway when the game will be on.

This evening there is a reception where we will all meet and greet one another as we prepare for the competition which will begin at the Speedway. All told, there are 35-teams, all representing a missing child from their hometown community. As we roll across America each team will be tasked with handing out missing child flyers to everybody they meet along the way, so this truly is the Race to Recover America’s Missing Children.

Team Polly is representing little Hasanni Campbell. Hasanni was last seen wearing a gray sweatshirt and gray pants at approximately 4:15p.m. on August 10, 2009. Hasanni, who has cerebral palsy, was reported by Louis Ross as missing from a car outside a shoe store in Oakland's Rockridge district. Oakland police have indicated the disappearance may be homicide. Both of Hassani's foster parents were arrested in connection with the case but the district attorney declined to file charges due to lack of evidence. I doubt that Hasanni will be found alive or that Louis Ross will be held accountable for “disappearing” the little boy, but he does deserve to come home and maybe the awareness that we raise will assist in that effort.

The one dark cloud hanging over Team Polly’s head is the very poor health of close and elderly relatives. John’s mother in law is suffering from an advanced form of cancer and my 90 year old father has taken too many trips to the emergency room these past months for the prognosis to be anything but bleak. Well, we will pray for their health, wish them comfort and hope that they overcome the long odds that seem to be stacked against them.

After all, wasn’t Las Vegas premised on beating the odds in the first place?