IndyCar
  • Peg It on GarageMonkey
KITCHEL: Honoring Our Veterans
Panther Racing's Mike Kitchel shares his journey of appreciation for Veteran's Day.
Mike Kitchel  |  Posted November 11, 2012  
Panther Racing's JR Hildebrand poses with SPC Joey Paulk. (Photo: Panther Racing)
I’ve been around for more than 30 Veterans Days, and probably let most of them pass without much notice. I’m sure somewhere in the back of my mind I understood what Veterans Day was all about, but I never gave it the respect it has deserved.

This week I started thinking how much my perspective has changed – having spent a better part of the last five years working on an IndyCar dressed in camouflage, and interacting daily with people wearing the uniform that symbolizes the importance of what this day really means.

The offseason in 2007 was like many in IndyCar; a year had flown by at 230 mph, another championship had been celebrated and – like a lot of teams – we were soon back to wearing suits and ties in board rooms, presenting business executives with the laundry list of advantages that come with motorsports sponsorship.

Somewhere along the way that offseason, the National Guard started to explore expanding their involvement in motorsports into the IndyCar Series. And by the time engines were fired on the 2008 season, our No. 4 car was painted red, white and blue and the corporate executives that once filled our hospitality area were replaced by men and women in camouflage uniforms.

In Panther’s five-year partnership with the National Guard we’ve met thousands of soldiers. We’ve been to Army Guard bases and Air Guard bases. We’ve had meetings in the Pentagon, the US Capital and even the White House. We’ve met soldiers the minute they’ve stepped back onto American soil after a year at war. We’ve seen them the minute before they left. We’ve watched their families say hello and wave goodbye, and cried shamelessly from the sidelines. We’ve been in VA Hospital rooms from Tampa Bay to Palo Alto and seemingly everywhere in between. We’ve met soldiers who have lost arms and soldiers who have lost legs. We’ve met soldiers who have lost both.

And we’ve met families who have lost a lot more than that.

At Texas one year we finished 10th in a race where I was pretty certain we should have finished fifth. I ripped off my headset in frustration. I punched the side of the timing stand. And as I went to storm off I saw a soldier we were hosting that weekend, our good friend SPC Joey Paulk, who had been badly burned – nearly beyond recognition – in an explosion and fuel fire while serving in Afghanistan.
The late Dan Wheldon and his wife Susie were enthusiastic supporters of veterans during his time driving for the team. (Photo: Panther Racing)

The details of his injuries and the road map to his recovery would bring the hardest of men to tears. But that night at Texas Motor Speedway, he was smiling and laughing, visibly in awe of just being able to stand there and watch an IndyCar race live from pit lane. I’m not sure perspective has ever landed a better shot on my chin.

After we returned home, our team owner John Barnes received a thank you letter from Joey: “I haven’t been this happy or excited about anything in a long time,” it read.

“You have put happiness and excitement back into my life.” Since then, Joey’s been featured in every news outlet from People Magazine to the New York Times, proving to other injured soldiers that the road to recovery has a light at the end of it.

Remind me again what it was I was so pissed off about after that Texas race?

Last week I went to a ceremony for my friend LTC Shawn Gardner, the former Public Affairs Officer for the Indiana National Guard, who received a well-deserved promotion to Lieutenant Colonel. I’ve worked closely with Shawn for years – organizing everything from press conferences and base visits to photo shoots and helicopter rides.

During his ceremony, I learned parts of his military history he’d never volunteered; stories of training at Fort Bragg, about being a Ranger who could rappel out of a Blackhawk helicopter while shooting the eye out of a needle, about his deployment to fight the war, and all those long nights he’d left his wife and two kids at home while he was gone.

Less than a month before, he had invited me to an Indianapolis Colts game where he was meeting with a Colts team official to discuss their partnership with the Indiana National Guard. To make a long story short, the Colts have a motorcycle with a side-car that leads the team onto to field at the start of the games. Shawn’s friend with the Colts gave him a pass to ride in the side-car of that motorcycle as it led the team through the smoke and pyrotechnics and onto the football field – to be greeted with the roar of 65,000 screaming NFL fans.

Shawn took the pass and immediately handed it to me. He never hesitated. My attempts to give it back to him were futile. His decision was not negotiable. The ride was mine.

“There are lots of people wearing this uniform who don’t have the opportunity to ride in that bike onto the field,” Shawn explained. “I don’t want one of them to see me doing it and think I’m taking advantage of my position here.”
Page 1 of 2
Prev
12
Next
Mike Kitchel's avatar

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mike Kitchel

MORE BY THIS AUTHOR