Friday, February 3, 2012
AUTO RACING
By Matt DiFilippo mdifilippo@centralmaine.com
Staff Writer
UNITY -- George Fernald's Sunday morning begins at 6:45, with a phone call. Yes, he answers, we're going to try to race today. Come on down and join us.

AS THE SUN SETS: Flagman Jeff Overlock waves the white flag for the final lap of a Late Model heat at Unity Raceway during a recent Saturday night of racing. Unity offers 10 divisions of racing. On this night Keystone Automotive Industries Wildcats, Vintage Minis and Late Models were featured along with regular racing.
Photo by Jeff Pouland

SCORING THE RACE: Head scorer Penny Sampson calls the results from a Late Model heat to Bryan Potter over in the pit tower during a recent Saturday of racing at Unity Raceway. Sampson has been the head scorer at Unity for eight years and also scores races at Wiscasset on Sundays.
Photo by Jeff Pouland
George is in his third summer of leasing Unity Raceway from owners Ralph and Nancy Nason. Before that, he raced a car at the track himself for 25 years.
"I'm 46. I feel 66," George said half-jokingly. "I've lost more hair and gotten grayer over the last three years. I feel that I'm getting payback for all the years that I created problems."
Usually, George can relax a bit on Sunday morning and prepare himself for the week ahead. But two weeks ago, rain wiped out the Saturday card at Unity Raceway. Even though Sunday crowds are never big ones, George is trying to get the races going, starting at 2 p.m.
By 9:30, George is at the track. The pits open at 10:30, so other workers are also at the track early. George will field calls all morning, asking whether there will be racing. Most go like the one just before 11, when George answers, "Hello? Yes we are. OK," and hangs up.
Not all the workers will be paid. They understand that. George said he tried in his first year to pay everyone, but it just wasn't possible to do that and still run the track.
"The first two years, we went in the hole very badly," George said. "We're coming out of the hole this year. My wife made me promise that if we didn't make money this year, that this is our last year.
"Well, I don't know who else would run the place. And it is a pain to run. I raced for 25 years here. It's much easier to own a race car and race than it is to run the place."
The Nasons have owned Unity Raceway for 30 years, so there are a lot of friends and connections and people willing to help out. George says people who love racing will often come to him, asking to work for free on race day.
"This way, they can be involved and get in for nothing," George said. "They're like me -- they didn't want the place closed down. They want to see it work. So they just come in, work and help out."
By 11 a.m., Sue Nason-Ferreira is busy at one of the three concession stands. Sue is Ralph and Nancy's daughter, and she grew up wanting to be a race-car driver like her father.
"If I was a boy, I probably wouldn't be doing this," Sue said. "Because back then, girls didn't race. Dad said, 'Girls don't do that.' Now, they're everywhere."
Since she couldn't race, Sue worked at the snack shacks. The person running concessions needs to be there at least one hour every day of the week. Monday is inventory, Tuesday is ordering more food, Wednesday is stocking, Thursday is cleaning the bathrooms, and Friday is stocking the last-minute items George buys himself at Sam's Club.
Sue, who lives near the track, does this all for free.
"I don't want it closed, because I love this place," Sue said. "This is where I grew up. I've done it since 1980. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I wasn't at the racetrack on weekends. I'd be lost.
"What are you going to do, go camping? My family doesn't do that. My father's driven a race car for 46 years. We bought this place in 1980, and I started out making cotton candy when I was 10 years old."
A few weeks after this interview, Sue had to step away from Unity Raceway because she is busy helping out with her family's new store near the track. The person who now handles the concession stands? George's uncle, Tim Pelotte.
At 11:35, Bryan Potter is on the microphone. Bryan says, "Teens, the racetrack is yours," and the practice runs begin. Bryan actually wanted no part of this job when George asked him to take it. Bryan kept saying he was all set, and George told him he'd like it.
Finally, Bryan gave in.
"I've never gotten before a microphone in my life," Bryan said. "That was my worst fear all winter."
Bryan has worked at Unity for 10 years, with most of that time spent on the infield at turns 3 and 4. He has worked for several different promoters, and he still remembers Shane Green's car coming toward him one night. Bryan jumped and landed on the hood, but slid down off the nose of the car and went flying through the air until he landed in the grass.
"I laid there and then I was like, 'Ah, that didn't hurt,' " Bryan said.
By 11:47, Penny Sampson is writing the running order on a whiteboard next to the snack shack at the pit area. Penny is the head scorer at Unity, and also scores races at Wiscasset on Sundays.
"One year we were in our seats in the score tower for 12 hours straight," Penny said. "We were lucky if we got up to go to the bathroom before a big caution.
"You have to watch all the cars, all the time, and know where they are, keep track of lap cars, keep track of who's coming in and out of the pits, how many laps they might be down. And you always have to keep one eye on the leader, in case there's a lead change, so you don't miss it."
Like Sue, Penny lives around the corner from the track. She even grew up next door to Sue's husband, Tim Ferreira. Like Sue, being at the track as an adult was Penny's destiny.
"My brother raced here," Penny said. "My dad raced here. My mom was an EMT here for years and years. My cousins raced here. My grandfather used to work security here back in the '50s. I was over here as one of the little kids, falling asleep in the bleachers with my parents."
So Penny, who has been the head scorer for eight years, naturally met her husband at Unity. Dan Sampson was the pace car driver at Unity and is now crew chief for the 73 Super Street.
Penny says Dan swore he would not get married again. But one night, they were driving home -- Penny doesn't remember where they had been -- and started talking about marriage. During the drive, Penny joked, "Well, we'd have to do it at the racetrack, because that's where we are every weekend."
They both laughed at the idea and ran with the joke. What would we do if we got married at Unity Raceway? Soon, that joke became their wedding, and they were married two summers ago at the track.
"Everything that we were joking about actually happened," Penny said. "I came out on a four-wheeler. We got married on the start/finish line. Our driver was his best man. My aunt, who hadn't been here since the '60s, when somebody got killed here, it was her first trip back in like 40 years.
"These are my friends, which is another reason I got married here. All these guys are people I see all summer long and I wanted them to be part of my wedding ceremony. They're family."
After everyone watched Dan and Penny's wedding ceremony, they watched a night of racing. Penny went up to the tower and served as head scorer for the night.
"And the next day I worked at Wiscasset," Penny said, laughing. "I still haven't had a honeymoon."
While Penny is busy, Alysha Begin is using her considerable lung power to call the drivers from each division up to the tower for a random draw. If the microphone doesn't get their attention over the generators and engines, Alysha pokes her head out and screams to the drivers. That works.
Later, Alysha will work with Penny on scoring the races.
"She used to be a gofer girl," Penny said. "She did that for a couple years. So we decided to teach her how to score."
The gates open at 1, and fans file in and hit the concession stands. Thankfully, for Sue and her crew, it is not a hot day.
"It's horrible. Horrible," Sue said, shuddering at the memory. "It's 115 degrees in there. You've got three frialators and a grill, and the heat's got nowhere to go, and it's already hot outside."
At 1:54, Marco Thomas, the race announcer, shows up in the tower. Marco drove to Unity from Conway, N.H. The drive, one way, is 2 hours and 20 minutes.
"I just like George," Marco said. "George wants me to work here, so I come here when I can."
By the scheduled race time, it's raining, and the rain becomes steady at 2:04. A few minutes later, George tells the crowd the rain is supposed to be a passing shower and they're going to wait it out. He asks for a moment of silence for Blackie Hilliard, a former racer, and Roger Reynolds, who worked at Unity for many years.
"I don't know what to say," George says over the microphone while talking about Reynolds, "except we're all going to miss him very badly."
During the rain delay, Marco interviews people who raced against Hilliard. Later, Marco jokes that he is underappreciated and leaves the tower. Alysha grabs the microphone and announces that "Marco Thompson" will be signing autographs in the stands.
At 2:33, George points out behind Turn 2. He is optimistic.
"Usually, the weather comes from right behind there," he says, "and it's clearing up."
"We can wait as long as we like," race director Ron Roy tells him. "We've got lights."
Five minutes later, George points to the same spot, this time with less optimism.
"That's not good," he says. "We lost the clear over there."
George and Ron start talking about what they can do next weekend if no one can race today. George says his foot is killing him. He shattered his ankle slipping on ice a few years back. On a race day, with all the walking he has to do, he will change his shoes two or three times.
George gets another report that it's clear and hot in Waterville. He tells the crowd, and Penny and Alysha have trivia contests to give away gift certificates. But at 3:21, there are two flashes of lightning. Two minutes later, George reads off the winning 50/50 number and announces there will be no racing today.
After turning off the microphone, George comes back into the tower and has a question for Penny: "What are we gonna do about paying people on a rain day?"
Penny answers, "We never get paid on rain days," and for her, that ends the discussion.
Marco jokes it was a nice day for a drive anyway. They'll all come back next week, ready to do whatever they can to keep Unity Raceway going.
"It's probably the only track you would go to that we're all more like a family than a racetrack," George said. "Everybody knows everybody, and they'll help everybody."
"Just like families, we all have our arguments," Penny added. "We've been upset with each other before. But we all get over it and help each other out."
Matt DiFilippo -- 861-9243
mdifilippo@centralmaine.com
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CLOSE TO THE ACTION: Lonnie Clark of Pittsfield works to line up cars for a start between turns three and four at Unity Raceway recently. Clark said he is the closest person to the cars during Saturday night racing. Photo by Jeff Pouland |
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