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This is the last time this guy will be proactive. And it pains me to say it.

I was working proficiently on Tuesday, getting all my affairs in order for the Performance Racing Industry Show in Indianapolis. One time in a row, which constitutes the beginning of a streak, the schedule was flowing smoothly.

Then an email popped up from American Airlines. ALERT! Your flight could be affected by bad weather in Washington, D.C.

Someone can do their job so well that they become despised for it.

When I look at what Don Schumacher accomplished in drag racing, I see a man who was driven to succeed, grow their product and win at all costs. Isn't this what we see every day in the business world?

Make no mistake; major league drag racing is a business, and Schumacher has been one of its best businessmen. But don't take my word for it; let his 366 national event victories and 19 series championships serve as proof. Additionally, consider the number of corporate sponsors who came into the sport under his guidance as additional evidence.

Those who knew and understood Schumacher certainly didn't despise him. They knew what to expect.

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Having a guarantee with your name on it goes a long way to show what kind of person you are. 

"As owner and operator of Summit Motorsports Park, we, the Bader Family, together with our team, promise to present to you, our guest, the best show possible at the best value possible! Should we fail you in any way while you are at our park, help us improve your experience by resolving your issue on the spot."

In a nutshell, that was the kind of person Bill Bader Sr. was. 

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When we’re kids the idea of death is often a far-off concept we give little thought to, but as the years pass, and life becomes ever more precious as we’re surrounded by family and friends, our realities change. As much as we might try to deny it, we know that everyone’s days are numbered, so we strive to make each one of those days more meaningful, more fulfilling. That was my friend – no our friend John Di Bartolomeo.

Born July 21, 1953, John was a “Joisey” boy through his formative years and remained a Jerseyite through the early years of his marriage to the former Dottie Hadrava. For the last 19 years John, Dottie and their children, Franklin, and Christina, lived in Beaver Springs, PA, literally a stone’s throw from the drag strip that originally bore the town’s name. Franklin and his wife, Jenny, and son, Evan, now reside in Huntersville, NC.

The phone call I received Sunday morning was not unexpected. I knew that Dave McClelland had been wrestling with the demons of age. Slowly, methodically, they had robbed him of his mobility, his memory, and ultimately his will to unreasonably extend a battle whose outcome, unfortunately, he already knew. As did we all.

Nevertheless, the finality of knowing that the big, booming, one-of-a-kind voice that once defined NHRA drag racing would now forever be silenced was something for which I apparently was unprepared.

I’ve lost lots of friends the last few years. Raymond Beadle, Dale Armstrong, Paul Candies, Ernie Walker and, sadly, racer and journalist Johnny DiBartolomeo, of whose death I was informed just this morning. At my age, every time the phone rings, there’s a better than average chance it’s another confirmation of the inevitable.

I was on my way back home from a trip up to Billings, Montana, when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it and answered to find it was John Di Bartolomeo, or John D as we all called him; on the other end, I pulled over so as not to lose the signal. The gist of what he told me left me pretty much numb and speechless at the time because what words can someone say to a friend, in the case of a very close friend, who has called to tell you that he has pancreatic cancer - one of the more deadliest forms of cancer out there, with little to no chance of total survival.