Dispatch: Seven Miles High

This great land passed in a blur of competition as beautiful, finely tuned automobiles filled with amazing competitors turned heads, brought squeals of laughter from little children and drew crowds wherever we happened to pass or park. The caravan of Lamborghinis, Corvettes, Camaros, and other exotic cars domestic and foreign, futuristic and ancient became the sole focus of our lives as we gamed our way to the finish line in little Galena, IL.

The past eight days have been so intensely focused upon the moment that the real world seemingly ceased to exist. That president Obama’s Chief of Staff resigned meant nothing when compared to completing the next bonus round before the competition. My hometown Giants seem headed to the National League Championship playoffs, but that is insignificant when one is seeking “the future birthplace of Captain James P. Kirk”. I felt extreme exhilaration as my beautiful green Camaro regularly topped 100 mph and my partners and I became dependent upon each other to make our marks, out strategize the competition, and be as close as possible to the top of the leader board when we put our keys in our pockets and walked away from overworked automobiles at the end of each day.

In retrospect, it is amazing that there weren’t more mishaps. Some of the teams got tickets, but nobody was caught driving in excess of 95 mph. There was only one flat tire, one altercation that nearly came to blows, and no accidents. When the Back to the Future DeLoreon broke down with no spare parts available, the Green Hornet and Doc Harmony got a trailer and pulled them with their Excursion for two days until we got to Cedar Rapids where parts had been shipped. The competition remained at a high level as we put 2,800 miles on the odometer. Cheating and poor sportsmanship were at a minimum.

I was afraid that I would be sitting in a car for 8 to 10 hours every day digesting fatty food, without an opportunity to exercise. However, as my aching body will attest, I did more running and climbing these past days than I have engaged in many, many years. The food was cheap and unappetizing so I was able to control my diet without consciously trying. If I don’t see another hamburger, pulled pork sandwich, tub of potato salad, pot of beans or brick of scrambled eggs for 6 months I will be a happy man.

If one is going to be truly competitive in the Fireball Run one needs physical training, viable preliminary research, a friend with a cell phone at a computer or constant internet connectivity, a GPS tracking device, a good car, and some good fortune. Although Team Polly neither won nor placed near the top my good fortune came in the form of a beautiful Camaro that was loaned to me by General Motors and the two men who rode with me and were my partners at different times during the competition.

I have never before spent this much time away from Violet during the 26 years that we have been together. I can hardly wait to see her at the airport later this evening.

Dispatch: Galena, IL

Who am I, how did I get here and what am I doing? My sense of normalcy feels stripped away. It’s as if crossing American at between 80 – 120 mph has blurred more than my peripheral vision. I arrived at the Fireball Run without expectation, but leave with a honed sense of competition, companionship, and camaraderie. I’ve learned lessons in trust, teamwork and tolerance. In doing so I believe that I have reconnected with a primal instinct.

The only real competition today was the drag races. Well, if you call watching Ron and Diane’s red Diablo disappear down the track as if I were sitting still competition. Ah well, I still hit 91.4 mph which I think is awesome for a quarter mile. On my second run I got my revenge on Kenny Greene’s Smart Car.  

With family business completed John joined me for the last day of the Fireball Run in picturesque Galena, IL. It was good to see him again. Together we drove downtown where the city pulled out all of the stops. Hundreds, if not thousands, gathered for one last look at the fabulous lineup of exotic, erotic foreign and domestic automobiles. It didn’t hurt that we were competing in the same space for the local Oktoberfest celebration, or that the two eventually blended.

Our final party was yet another hors d'oeuvre buffet. That surprised me because I thought that JJ would pull out all of the stops and ensure that our final impression was satisfying and memorable. Finally, awards real and imagined were distributed. It was great fun and I believe that whether you came in first or last, in the final analysis we were all winners.

Dispatch: Cedar Rapids, IA

As soon as I opened my eyes this morning it hit me like an out of control 18-wheeler. Polly was kidnapped exactly 17 years ago. That I live with this knowledge daily does not make the arrival of this anniversary any easier. For the first decade after her death I began a regimen of Xanax, a drug used to treat anxiety disorders, panic disorders, and anxiety caused by depression, on October 1 and maintained my drug therapy through her birthday on January 3. I don’t do that anymore though, because I have hardened myself to grim reality. However, this is the first year that I have been without Violet.

This morning Natalie asked for a moment of silence for Polly and the other missing children that are represented in the 2010 Fireball Run. I was touched by her sensitivity and the immediate response from so many of my new friends. Many hugged me; others spoke softly of their regret. All in all, it was a touching moment that I will long remember and a good way to begin another day of the high speed lunacy that my life has recently become. I don’t know if life is a board game, but this week at least the USA is our game board.

The Fireball Run one is all about living in the moment. The real world, with all of its issues and problems, exists in a 120 mph blur that receives no consideration. The only purpose is to solve the next challenge, achieve the next bonus and arrive at the finish line with more points than the competition. It is a microcosm that promotes teamwork. The driver depends upon his/her teammate to solve puzzles and navigate to the next challenge, and the navigator depends upon his/her partner to get there ahead of the clock. Fortunately, both of my teammates were great guys who were up to the task.

The Cedar Rapid reception, which was held in the art museum, happened after we checked into the Crown Plaza. The good news is that it gave us a chance to clean up. The bad news is that the extra time forced me to reflect. When Natalie asked me to speak at the well attended party I could only speak from my heart. ““As many of you know, this is a very difficult day for me. It was 17 years ago that my daughter Polly was kidnapped and murdered she would be Natalie’s age now. I used to resort to prescription drugs as this anniversary approached. For a decade Xanax was my best friend until after Polly’s birthday on January 3.”

“But I don’t do that anymore. My life has improved immensely. I have been fortunate to be surrounded by a great support system and an even greater wife. Together we have learned to love life again, because that is what Polly would want. We have worked to make America safer for children in her name. However, this is the first time I have been by myself on this horrible day. I thought that I would feel lonely and pitiful. Instead, because I am surrounded by the love of new friends I feel empowered and protected. Your words have been heartfelt; your hugs have been comforting. Since I cannot be home tonight, I am glad that I am with all of you. Thank you for your time.”