The idea behind our site solidified in the spring of 2006, during the Daytona 500, but was actually in the works long before that.

As a kid in the late sixties and early seventies, I spent my weekends at race tracks in and around my hometown of St. Charles, Missouri. My Dad raced Super Modifieds, and later Sprint Cars at places like Tri-City Speedway in Illinois and St. Charles Speedway in Missouri. At the time, despite the fact that I wore my little home-made jacket with the big red number six on the back, I would have to say that I was not a huge fan of the sport. But staying home was never an option.

My memories of those days are few and sketchy, like the faded squares of a favorite old quilt. Most of them involve passing the time on splintery wooden bleachers by counting the cars as they arrived on their open trailers, making chains out of pop top rings, while trying not to cut my fingers, and watching my Mom record all the qualifying times in her pale green stenography tablet. There are even a few recollections of actual races, like the night Dad's engine caught fire and I was afraid he was going to burn up, and the night he got hurt when a big clod of dirt hit him in the eye.  And I still remember Saturday mornings when my Dad would start the race car on the street in front of our house and how all the neighborhood kids would come out to watch and beg for rides.

Then there's the one my Dad always likes to talk about, and the funny part is, it doesn't even involve him being in the race car. It was 1972 and we were at the Knoxville Nationals, and I was apparently not the most cooperative little race fan at the time. Dad must have gotten tired of my squirming and promised me the dinner of my choice if I would just sit still and let him watch the race. Well, I did as I was told, and hours later, as we headed away from the fairgrounds and off to a restaurant, Dad asked me what I wanted to eat. To his surprise, his little eight-year-old daughter replied with no hesitation, "a t-bone steak!" True to his word, Dad lived up to his promise. I got my steak and he got to enjoy a great night of racing. The race program from that night is a treasure I will keep forever.

It wasn't long after that night at Knoxville that racing became too expensive for Dad to continue as a driver. He may have hung up his helmet but he has never lost his love of Sprint Car racing. He has attended races at tracks all over the country, and feels just at home in the pits today as he did back then. A few years ago we started traveling to races together, taking in new tracks and just enjoying the time when we get to hang out and create new memories. Miles fly by as we roll along, listening to the radio and thinking back on all the good times we've had and looking forward to the racing at the end of the road.

In essence, my Dad is the inspiration for what I do. My "day job" at RaceFan has been a dream come true for me because it has allowed me to be involved in the sport I love, while working at home. The site is a sidebar, an endeavor dedicated to folks who love racing. My dream is that Spring and I can bring a fresh, fun perspective to race fans everywhere. Our goal is to experience new kinds of racing, as well as our first loves: Dirt track Sprints for me, and NASCAR Nextel Cup for her, and share our adventures with you. We hope you enjoy the journey.

Val