Waid’s World: Years Ago, at Rockingham and Daytona, a Nice Guy Finished 1st

Throughout his lengthy career as a NASCAR Cup Series driver and his subsequent award-winning tenure as a television personality, the late Benny Parsons was nicknamed “Mr. Nice Guy.”

There was good reason for that. Whether on the track or in front of the camera, Parsons’ amiable, unpretentious personality broke through like sunshine on a gray day.

As cutthroat and competitive as stock car racing can be, Parsons more than held his own as he cultivated friends rather than enemies of his on-track rivals.

On television, Parsons became one of the most popular figures in his many broadcast roles. He came across as friendly, entertaining and knowledgeable. Years ago, a viewer told me that watching Parsons “was like listening to your favorite uncle talk racing.”

As for me — and frankly, just about every other member of the media — we gyrated toward Parsons because we knew we would get complete answers to our questions and, most likely, be entertained with a story or two.

And he remembered our names. Since the first time I met him 50 or so years ago, he called me Steve.

Parsons came into NASCAR somewhat unnoticed. As it was for many other drivers, he came from humble beginnings. Raised by his grandmother in Wilkes County, N.C., he shifted to his family’s taxicab business in Detroit. Later, as he began to earn notice in NASCAR, he was often referred to as “The taxi driver from Detroit.”

“Actually, I worked on taxis rather than drive them,” Parsons said.

Parsons did his share of small-time racing on asphalt and dirt, but, by his own admission, didn’t make much of a splash.

“I remember once I spun out going 35 miles per hour,” Parsons said. “Took control of that situation, didn’t I?”

Parsons settled in Ellerbe, N.C., very near the 1.017-mile Rockingham Speedway. In 1970, he found employment with L.G. DeWitt, owner of a trucking company and the president of Rockingham.

DeWitt’s Cup team was far from a powerhouse organization such as those of Petty Enterprises, Junior Johnson & Associates and Wood Brothers Racing. It had neither the financial backing nor the manpower.

But it was the breeding ground for developing talent, such as Parsons and crew chief Travis Carter.

Parsons got his first Cup win with DeWitt at South Boston Speedway in 1971. He didn’t win in 1972, although he finished 19 times among the top 10 in 31 races.

In 1973, Parsons became the focus of a season that has become a part of NASCAR lore.

It was a decidedly surprising campaign for the humble DeWitt organization. Parsons ran consistently and parlayed that, and a Bristol Motor Speedway victory, into a sizable points lead when the Cup circuit came to its 28th, and final, race of the season at The Rock.

Parsons led second-place Richard Petty by nearly 200 points and third-place Cale Yarborough by 208. It seemed he was easily going to earn the championship at his owner’s track.

Although all he had to do was stay out of trouble, Parsons was nervous. 

“This means my livelihood,” Parsons said. “It sure doesn’t for Richard or Cale.”

Only 13 laps into the race, disaster struck. Parsons tried to avoid Johnny Barnes’ spinning No. 89 Mercury, but instead, the impact tore off the entire right side of Parsons’ No. 72 Chevrolet. The roll bars were shredded, and the rear end assembly was in pieces on the track.

What happened afterward is part of the legend.

Instead of walking away from the pile of scrap that was his car, Parsons’ team began to reassemble it as quickly as possible — if that could be done.

Amazingly, members of other teams ran to Parsons’ assistance, many of them bringing spare parts and pieces. Feverishly, they worked toward making the DeWitt Chevrolet capable of returning to the track.

That happened on lap 149, and thereafter, Parsons slowly cruised around the track, piling up points. By lap 394 of 492, he won the championship by 67.15 points, according to the system of the day.

“I don’t mind telling you I was in the gutter when I came back into the pits,” Parsons said. “I thought it was all over. I thought we were finished.

“Then I saw all those guys working on the car. I couldn’t imagine them doing that. And what they did was a pure miracle.”

Many years later, I asked Parsons if the same would be done in the competitive atmosphere of the 21st century.

“You mean without the help of teammates?” he asked. “If so, the answer is no.”

I’ve always surmised that if Parsons had not been known and treated as “Mr. Nice Guy” throughout the garage area, what happened in 1973 would have had a far different outcome.

Another example of the affinity Parsons had with his fellow competitors came in the 1975 Daytona 500, in which he won for only the third time in his career and the first on a superspeedway.

Parsons was, indeed, the surprise winner — but he didn’t consider that to be the case. All during practices for the 500, the speed he found in his car increased his confidence.

The King noticed Parsons’ smile each time he returned it to the garage area.

“Reckon this is your year then, Ben?” Petty asked.

Many wrecks and mechanical failures took out several contenders, but Parsons remained untouched and found himself in second place, 5.2 seconds behind David Pearson with 10 laps remaining.

Petty, who was eight laps down due to several unscheduled pit stops, moved past Parsons and gave him a hand signal.

“He waved at me and pointed to hook on,” Parsons said.

“Yeah, I signaled to him that it was time for us to go — together,” Petty said.

Parsons moved to within 2.1 seconds of Pearson before he found himself trapped between the cars of Yarborough and Richie Panch. But he was freed when Yarborough and Pearson tapped fenders, which sent Pearson’s No. 21 Mercury sliding into the grass.

Unchallenged, Parsons sped to victory by a lap over Bobby Allison.

“This is the greatest moment of my life, even more than winning the 1973 championship,” Parsons said. “I have to thank Richard [Petty] for what he did for me. He could have ignored me or run away from me. Instead, he waited on me and gave me the ride I needed in the draft. I’m not sure many guys would do that.”

Again, years later, I asked Parsons if he thought that his popularity as a driver and a man might have had something to do with Petty’s cooperation.

“Maybe he just didn’t want Pearson to win,” Parsons said with a smile. “But he and I were friends who never had a cross word. I like to think that had something to do with it.”

There’s an old saying that goes, “Nice guys finish last.”

“Mr. Nice Guy” would tell you that at least two times in his life, that was far from the truth.