It was precisely noon ET on Thursday, April 10, when I received the text from my Frontstretch colleague Bryan Nolen that my friend Al Pearce, a Hall-of-Fame racing journalist and fellow Army officer, had passed away.
I was riding in an armored vehicle in my Army uniform on the way to qualify on the M4 rifle — an annual requirement for us reservists. Silently, I locked my phone and stared at the passing-by landscape, my fellow soldiers unaware of the news I had just received.
Memories of Pearce flooded my mind, and I could only think of the things I wish I could have told him before he passed. Things I know now I will never get the chance to say.
It was February 2020 when I first met Pearce. I had recently been hired by IMSA and was merely a volunteer for the Daytona International Speedway media center during the annual NASCAR Speedweeks. While manning the front desk of the media center that Wednesday, I was asked by my manager if I had any room available for someone in my apartment to stay.
I was taken aback. I said that I had a comfortable couch, but that was about it. She revealed that a journalist in the media center had suddenly been left without a place to stay and was looking for somebody, anybody, to let them crash. I, admittedly reluctant, agreed.
But when she said it was Al Pearce, I wasn’t sure what to think. I had heard his name, of course, as it was on the journalist Hall of Fame plaque right outside of the deadline room in the media center hallway. However, I never really interacted with him save for the numerous post-race stat sheets I was employed to pass out to media members after every race. Now, I was in a position where I was letting somebody in my home that I had never spoken to.
That changed quickly. Pearce, in his deep raspy voice, introduced himself to me and thanked me profusely for allowing him to stay in my apartment. After the press conferences and both of our jobs were finished that night, he followed me to my home that was only 15 minutes away from the track.
I was embarrassed to show someone that was such a well-respected and decorated member of the racing media my shabby little apartment. It wasn’t anything special and just about everything you would expect a recent college graduate to be living in.
But he never complained. Not once. In fact, he sat on my couch and was overjoyed with how soft it was and claimed it was more than enough for him. He had slept through worse, he said. Curious, I asked when.
“Vietnam,” he said, still adjusting to the softness of the couch cushions.
I had been recently pinned U.S. Army Second Lieutenant and was an absolute nerd when it came to military history. My curiosity and fascination overwhelmed me. Many of the lessons I learned throughout my training had been created as a result of some of the suffering in the Vietnam War. Now, here, in my living room, was a living, breathing survivor of that era.
Pearce wasn’t only just a NASCAR media legend, he was now a brother-in-arms and a fellow officer to boot.
We talked for hours that night, not just about the Army and his career that saw him retire as a Captain, but about racing stories too. He told me about the time when he covered his very first race at Dover Motor Speedway in the ’70s, when during a post-race press conference, he called race winner Richard Petty, “Mr. Petty,” and asked The King why he climbed out of the window and didn’t simply use his car door to get out of his racecar after winning.
According to Captain Pearce, that one got a few chuckles in the Dover media center that day.
Amidst the laughs and reminiscing, Pearce looked over at my display case of NASCAR diecast cars and asked if I collect them. I affirmed, and he took a pause.
“Well, I want to thank you for letting me stay here tonight,” Pearce said, still looking at my display case. “Pick out one of those, and I’ll get it signed tomorrow at the track.”
I didn’t know what to say. I asked which ones he would be able to get signed, but he simply said, “Any of them. I should be able to find any of those guys.”
With that, I grabbed my Holy Grail, a 1971 David Pearson Mercury, signed by Pearson himself shortly before he passed. I asked him if there was any chance he could get the Wood Brothers to sign it. Of course, he could. Then he pointed at my Ryan Blaney 2017 Pocono Raceway win diecast.
“Hand me that one,” he said pointing at the Blaney car. “I’ll get that one signed too.”
Pearce left before me the next morning, and I didn’t see him at the media center until later in the day when the sun was setting and the NASCAR Cup Series cars were lined up for that night’s Duel qualifying races. I was manning the media desk when he walked in with my diecast in hand.
“Come out here,” he said motioning outside toward the Cup garage. “I want you to meet someone.”
I followed him toward the Wood Brothers Racing hauler, where I met Leonard Wood, a man that Pearce had grown to know well in his decades of media adventures. I was only a wide-eyed communications coordinator at the time, and meeting somebody like Wood was still foreign to me. Admittedly, I was a bit starstruck.
I still have that ’71 Mercury diecast, which on top of Pearson and Leonard Wood, received the signatures of both Eddie and Jon Wood as well that night.
From that Speedweeks on, Pearce emailed me before every Daytona race, asking if I had any room for him to stay and if I still had that comfortable couch. I would always say yes, and yes, I still did. Each passing Daytona race, he would take me to lunch or dinner to repay me.
The only time I had to refuse was when I was deployed. Pearce, an Army Captain that also was deployed to a combat zone in a faraway foreign land, checked in on me regularly from that point on. At the end of every email, he would sign off by offering the same advice to a young officer. When I arrived at my range, his message echoed in my mind.
“Take care of your men, and they’ll take care of you.”
Will do, Captain Pearce. Thanks for taking care of me.
Dalton Hopkins began writing for Frontstretch in April 2021. Currently, he is the lead writer for the weekly Thinkin' Out Loud column, co-host of the Frontstretch Happy Hour podcast, and one of our lead reporters. Beforehand, he wrote for IMSA shortly after graduating from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in 2019. Simultaneously, he also serves as a Captain in the US Army.
Follow Dalton on Twitter @PitLaneCPT