Numb...thats the only way to describe it. This feeling that this can not be real. How can he be gone...how...
I share his first name and he was about a year older than I. I don't claim to love him anymore that the countless numbers of his fans, but I love him no less.
I never knew him as a young racer, my interest lay elsewhere at that time. I attended two NASCAR races in 1988 and watched him win them both. I guess it started then.
Watching him race over the years, I found myself constantly searching for his car when the race was televised or listening for his name if I was listening on the radio.
So how do I watch a race again and not look for him and that black three car?
I could't sleep a wink the night of his death. I watched his car hit the wall over and over again in my mind. I thought about his victory at Daytona in 98 and remembered how I cried like a baby. I replayed the big crash that took the twenty-one cars out. I remember thinking "Oh God, is Dale involved!" Then the first replay and seeing him dart through as the crash unfolded in front of him. And I thought.."whew..he made it.
But he really hadn't. Destiny, fate or the Hand of God drove him through. On to the final lap...
on to eternity.
I only hope God needed someone to drive his chariot across the sky...I miss you..love..
Dale Jackson...Febuary 19th, 2001
