I was pissed when I got the call. You want to spend $400 on a car that you want to smash up, and you want to know if that would be OK? You think that's a GOOD idea! I'm certain John could hear my eyes rolling. John and I run Red Electric, a small electrical contracting business, and the rule seems to be that we always have more fun than money: a rule that I'm always fighting. And this lame-brained idea didn't even sound fun. In any case, by the time I got home, the car, a beige 1975 Nova, was in the driveway, and I reluctantly became swept up in the spirit of entering a car in the demolition derby.

One application and a $15 money order later, we were in. We were even issued an official number, 251.

Pat Valentine was selected as driver of the car by Chance. Chance is our office everything - manager, secretary, mediator, bookkeeper - you name it. She logically decided that Pat was crazy enough to drive, but not as crazy as Casey, being a dad and all. Therefore, he was more likely to survive the event. So the decision was made and Chance filled out the application and sent it in.

That Friday after work we planned to meet to decide how to prepare the car and more importantly how to go about decorating it. This was November 6 and the fair was one week away, Friday the 13th. The planning meeting became much more than that when Cindy and Quinton showed up with a gallon of bright red paint, rollers, brushes, and three industrial-size containers of glitter. Cindy said, "I just want to paint the car." So we moved it to the front yard and by the light of a couple of clamp lights we painted that car RED. That was so much fun we continued by knocking out the windshields and taking off all the chrome parts and cutting the bumpers so they wouldn't get stuck on anything and cutting a 15" x 12" hole in the hood (one of the regulations - "for ease of fire detection and extinction"). Pattiy showed up with three cases of every color spray paint that she was getting rid of anyhow and that Nova was transformed into a work of art.

The weekend was devoted to the final preparations of the car. The mechanics, (John, Casey and a couple kids from the neighborhood), tore out everything deemed unnecessary - wires, fans, dashboard, speedometer, emergency brake. And installed whatever they thought would help it wreck better - tubes in the tires, a good starter, new radiator hoses and super shocks - and moved the battery to the passenger side floorboard. A couple of Deanna Mann stencils were the final touch. We were ready.

A few joy rides around the neighborhood and lots of photo shoots later we were headed for Elberton.

On The Track
Red Electric was lined up for the first heat of the derby, which is unfortunate, since most of us were running a little behind. We ran panting to the field, but were too late. The heat was over and our car was stuck on a cement barrier. What a letdown. It was all over. A tow truck was lifting Pat and the car off the wall as I walked over to John to find out what happened. The word was that Pat was doing great until he got stuck. Though muddy, the car was in still in perfect shape, allowing us to participate in the "consolation heat." All was not lost. We would get to see Red Electric in action. John and Casey worked furiously, checking the fluids and hoses, prepping the car for the 4th heat. Meanwhile Pat smoked and posed for more photos.

Exciting doesn't exactly describe a demolition derby. There's a countdown: four-three-two-one, but it's not a race. The cars take on personalities as a battle ensues: a slow-moving, smoky, noisy, muddy battle. A kind of a smashup ballet. It almost looks choreographed. The idea is to crash into the other cars (but not the driver's side) while avoiding getting crashed into. Each car must bump into another car every 60 seconds, and the car that makes the final bump or crash is the winner of the heat.

Red Electric was doing great. I got a thrill every time I heard the announcer mention "Pat Valentine of Red Electric from Athens, GA." (Yes, there's even an announcer.) "Car 251, Red Electric is still in the race." It seemed four or five cars were still moving around when Pat took a hit on his driver's side door, which disqualified the other driver. An alarm sounded, ending the heat. The loudspeaker announced the winners. Pat had tied for first place, granting him a spot in the final heat, the "Feature Event."

In The Finals
The Feature Heat consisted of all the winners of the previous heats - Cars covered in mud and worse for wear but still running and out for blood. Now this was exciting. Pat was playing with the big kids this time and he was holding his own. Many of the cars were starting to overheat and steam was beginning to spew left and right. Several cars were goners, but Pat was hanging in there. Suddenly, we heard a tremendous explosion. Our car was completely obscured by a cloud of thick white smoke. It was all over; the Nova was dead. Wait, what was that! A second little cloud of smoke and the car is moving again. The announcer blares, "Red Electric is still in the race!" The first blasts had filled the car and the inside of Pat's helmet and face shield with steam. Pat couldn't see a thing; he kept wiping the outside of his face shield, to no avail. Pat blindly fought on for several more long minutes when the Nova finally seized up for good. Derby rules kept Pat in his car until the event was over. He looked helpless and kept shrugging his shoulders. There was nothing else he could do. But a crowd was forming to the side of the field, and when the final alarm sounded, marking the end of the derby, Pat was lifted up onto the shoulders of the fans to a chorus of "He's a Jolly Good Fellow," and presented with a giant banner. I can't tell you who won first place. We got a trophy and $17 for our efforts, and I'd say that's pretty good. Next time John wants to spend $400 to wreck a car, I'll try to keep my eyes from rolling.

Jennifer Hartley