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Waiting with his VIP pass, which he hopes might let him pose for a photograph with Dale Earnhardt Jr., Wayne Crawford of Orange County keeps in the shade as the sun breaks through the clouds while he stands in line yesterday outside the Gander Mountain store on State Route 3.
After arriving at Gander Mountain via private helicopter
ABOVE: Inside a Gander Mountain storeroom, Earnhardt autographs the stocks of signature-edition Remington rifles and shotguns.
After a short question-and-answer session, Dale Earnhardt Jr. throws out souvenir hats to fans gathered yesterday evening in the parking lot outside the Gander Mountain outdoors store on State Route 3 in Spotsylvania County.
RIGHT: Fans who've waited for hours get a chance to photograph Dale Earnhardt Jr. as Waiting in an autograph line, Kim Shaffer of Spotsylvania uses her vanity plate to shade the afternoon sun. |
Video of Earnhardt in Spotsylvania
• Click here to see video of Earnhardt meeting with fans in Spotsylvania.
• Click here to see video of Earnhardt talking about racing, strategy and even the Redskins at Spotsylvania press conference.
Most of the 4,000 or so NASCAR fans who gathered at a Spotsylvania County outdoors store yesterday afternoon knew they wouldn't actually get to meet Dale Earnhardt Jr.
Most wouldn't shake his hand, or make a split second of eye contact, or breathe molecules from the very same square yard of air.
But at least they would lay their eyes on him.
For fans of Little E., the occasion merited calling in sick from work or taking the first skip day of the school year, then waiting all day under threatening clouds in the parking lot of the Gander Mountain store on State Route 3.
Some lucky few hundred sported red VIP passes, won in store drawings and radio station giveaways. They'd get to walk up to a table, hand their hero something to sign, pay brief verbal homage and leave fulfilled.
A couple thousand or so wore lesser green passes, worth a group photo opportunity.
Those without any passes at all would have to be satisfied seeing their idol take the stage outside for a brief Q-and-A, and shouting, "Dale, I love you!" from the anonymity of the crowd.
After a day of waiting--eating hot dogs and listening to the marathon efforts of the hard-working band Southern Rain--the crowd turned as one toward Route 3 and the sounds of sirens.
When Junior comes into a NASCAR county like Spotsylvania, he merits a motorcade.
The Spotsylvania Sheriff's Office sent the red Budweiser car to the front parking lot as a decoy, then whisked the man himself to the back of the store in his private Chevy Suburban. Little E. was not driving.
The surprising thing was, in person, Dale Earnhardt Jr. looked exactly like a guy.
He's a month shy of 30, and good-looking without coming across as if he knows it. He had freshly cut sandy reddish hair and sharp sideburns. He wore blue jeans long enough to catch on the heels of well-worn blue-and-brown sneakers; a light blue polo shirt, untucked, with two thin red horizontal stripes; and a red T-shirt underneath that.
He didn't look 6 feet tall, which is what his Web site says he is--but then, he's such a giant in the eyes of his fans that his height in person could never match their imaginations.
One thing was absolutely as the crowd expected. He was utterly, perfectly, respectfully polite.
And he was also very fast.
He entered Gander Mountain just after 6 p.m. and strode, surrounded by an entourage, to a cavernous storeroom. It was set up for the media and for representatives of Remington, the gun people, who sponsored his appearance.
He answered a few softball questions from awed reporters, then whisked through signatures of a good 50 or so Remington hunting rifles and shotguns, and three giant Dale Earnhardt Jr. gun safes.
He zoomed back through the store, sparing a quick smile for a shopper with an infant in her arms. "You've seen Dale Junior now," the woman murmured to the drowsy baby.
Outside, the crowd was primed to cheer for whatever words dropped from the hero's lips as he took the stage Southern Rain had vacated.
Words like, "I didn't think anybody'd be here. I figured you'd all be at the racetrack."
Roooooooar!
And "Last time we were here, I saw the 48 and 24 in the rearview mirror."
Yeeeeeeeeah!
And "It's time to buckle down, and it's time to win the championship!"
WoooooOOOOOOO!!!!
By 6:20, having tossed out a handful of baseball caps, he was on the move inside the store, where an autographing table awaited.
Deputies in uniform and plainclothes detectives formed a hallowed circle around him. Gander Mountain employees filled in the gaps.
Sheriff Howard Smith stood right behind Earnhardt--primed to lay a gentle hand on the shoulder of any overzealous fan moved to slip behind the table, give her idol a hug and smile for a very quick photo snapped by her brother.
Namely, Lynn Carter-Beckett of Spotsylvania.
"He is just so freaking hot!" she explained breathlessly afterward. "It's just the whole excitement of it all."
Dale Junior signs fast, too.
With a left-handed flourish, "DaleJr8" materialized on caps and T-shirts and jackets and a pair of blue jeans (unoccupied), on model cars and posters and a woman's white polo shirt (occupied), and dozens of other ordinary items instantly elevated to relic status.
By 7:30, it was all over. The last fan had snapped the last picture, and Earnhardt Junior was back in the motorcade, headed toward Loriella Park and the helicopter waiting to airlift him to this weekend's races in Richmond.
Seven-year-old Dakota Harrison of Spotsylvania, a red-haired, freckled Opie of a boy who admires Earnhardt Junior beyond words, was among the thousands of fans who grabbed a moment of Spotsylvania history yesterday afternoon.
He was there with his mom, Jessica, and dad, Paul, and his little brother, Dylan. He had no red pass, just a green one.
Still, he hoped with a 7-year-old's hope that he would get a chance to ask his hero a very important question.
That question was: "Would you like to come over for dinner?"
Dale Earnhardt Jr. seemed like just the kind of guy who'd say yes.
To reach LAURA MOYER: 540/374-5417 lmoyer@freelancestar.com
