LAST EDITED ON Aug-26-11 AT 02:49PM (MST)[p]I hunted with Bo about 20 years ago in Alabama at the annual Buckmaster's Classic. A few others I've hunted with who are avid hunters are the late Davey Allison and Dale Earnhart, ex Green Bay QB Steve Bratkowski (sp?), ex KC Chiefs QB Lynn Dickey and now retired baseball players Wade Boogs, Bruce Sutter, Jody Davis, Freddie Patek and Jim Eisenreich (sp?.
I tagged this buck the year when Bo was there. That's the late Jim "You Know What I Mean, Vern" Varney (Earnest)with me. He hunted with a wooden longbow and wooden arrows and was quite accurate with NO SIGHTS!
This is a column I wrote right after Davey Allision died:
MORE THAN A LOSS TO RACING
For most people across the country, July 12, 1993 started about like any other day. And for stock-car driver Davey Allison, it was no different. Later that afternoon, however, a normal day turned into disaster for the 32-yr.-old veteran of the NASCAR Winston Cup circuit.
He had survived many crashes, including a horrendous one at Pocono International Raceway on July 19, 1992. His familiar #28 black car with the huge Texaco star on the hood flipped 12 times, leaving the 19-time Winston Cup race winner with a broken arm, fractured ribs and a severe concussion. The following weekend, after spending five nights in the hospital and with a pin holding his arm together, Allison qualified his car and started the race before giving way to a relief driver.
Sadly, that didn't happen this July. Rather than recovering quickly as he did last year, Allison died as a the result of another accident -- ironically one that didn't take place on a race track or didn't even involve a race car.
Allison was at the controls of his recently purchased helicopter when it violently crashed in the infield at Talladega Superspeedway, located less than an hour from his Hueytown, Alabama home. He had gone to watch another driver test a car.
Witnesses said the copter had been less than six inches from touchdown when it lurched upwards and began spinning wildly. The rear rotor snagged a wire on a fence, causing the fragile craft to slam into the ground with the left side taking the brunt of the force. Allison, sitting on that side, received a severe brain injury. He died early the next morning.
For Allison's family, his death was another blow to a continuous string of misfortune. Davey's dad Bobby retired in 1988 after a severe crash in at Pocono. Last year, Davey's younger brother Clifford died in a wreck at Michigan International Speedway.
Deservedly so, the racing fraternity paid tribute for many days after the unfortunate and tragic loss of one its own. Stock-car racing indeed lost a well-liked competitor and someone who always found time for his fans. Lost in the shuffle, though, was a fact many folks didn't know about Davey. He was more than just a race driver and devoted husband and father. He was also an enthusiastic, quite passionate hunter.
I first met Davey about five years ago at the Buckmasters Classic, held each year at the Sportsman's Lodge near Montgomery, Alabama. The annual event brings together athletes from several sports and outdoor writers and hunters from around the country. Allison and Dale Earnhart usually represented the car racing folks.
Allison was a tireless hunter and spent countless days of the long Alabama deer season in the woods. He hunted with both bow and rifle. He also spent many a day chasing gobblers in the spring.
At the Buckmasters, he always spent hours with the hundreds of people who came out to meet the celebrities. He especially catered to the kids wanting his autograph.
The year Davey died, my oldest son Keith had bought tickets and pit passes to the NASCAR Pyroil 500 race at Phoenix International Speedway. We arrived about two hours before the green flag would wave, so we headed into the pits and wandered around for an hour, mostly looking at the sophisticated tools and other paraphernalia.
Most of the cars and drivers were still in the garages, an area closed to pit passes like the ones we had. Then about a half-hour before race time, the drivers began making their way to the stage in front of the grandstands. Here, they would be introduced to the fans. That's when I saw Davey walking up the pit apron.
He was walking alone in his familiar black, orange and yellow trimmed coveralls. He had a Texaco baseball hat on. As I made my way toward him to say hello and wish him good luck in the race, it was obvious no one else had noticed him yet.
It had been nearly a year since we had seen each other, but Davey remembered my name as we shook hands. From there, the conversation went to Davey's second favorite pastime -- hunting. He couldn't wait to tell me about the monster whitetail he had missed during the Alabama bow season.
He became quite animated while telling the story, and I had to smile to myself. Inwardly, I guess I wondered how someone about to climb into a race car and hurtle around a track at 200+ mph., with lots of money and possibly his physical well-being on the line, could so ignore this and talk about hunting instead. Right then I realized just how much of a passion hunting was for Davey.
As we stood there talking, a crowd had gathered around us. People started pushing in tighter, shoving all sorts of programs, notebooks, photos and anything else that would accept an autograph toward Allison. He took each one, signed and returned it. Not once did he interrupt his tale about the buck that almost was, however. In fact, he just yelled louder over the pleas of the autograph seekers.
I finally decided the jostling was getting a bit much. So I wished him "good luck" and walked away. When I got to my son and his friend, I remembered Keith had bought a program. I asked if he wanted Davey's autograph. I knew he would say "yes." So with program in hand, I pushed my way toward Davey and handed it to him.
And it started again. This time he asked if I had heard about the death of legendary turkey hunter and mutual friend Ben Lee, who died in a flaming crash when his truck left the highway late one night. When I told Davey I knew about it, he began telling a story about a humorous turkey hunt he and Lee had shared the previous spring. It took another 10 minutes before we parted again.
Allison won the race that day. Of course, I felt my well wishes had helped, though I knew it was Davey's driving. That day was also the last time I talked to him.
When I heard about his death, my eyes teared up a bit. I felt sad for his wife Liz and the two kids he left behind. Davey was a class act as a race driver and a hunter. And I'd bet if there's any hunting in heaven, Davey already has his license and is just waiting for some of his friends to arrive so he can tell him about the buck he missed. Until that time, his hunting friends will miss his enthusiasm.
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TONY MANDILE
How To Hunt Coues Deer
"A man can be hard to find in the mountains, but you're welcome at my fire anytime."
