Benny Parsons, 1941 - 2007.

The first thing he noticed, even in the fumes and heat of the cockpit, was that he could once again breathe. The next thing he noticed, as he looked in the rear-view mirror, was how the number on his helmet kept changing, from 55 to 27 to 72.

The track was smooth; the sky a deep azure.

He wondered over the rumble of the engine why there were no other cars on the track. Was this a qualifying lap?

"No, BP," a deep, booming voice in his head replied, "You're more than qualified."

He tightened his chinstrap and drove on.

There were no turns on this track.

"What am I doing on a drag strip?" he asked.

"You'll see," the voice replied.

Then the first one came. When he first saw the FOLGER's logo on the hood, he thought it was his own car. It settled behind him, a little to he right. Then he saw the face in the driver's seat.

Tim? Tim, is that you?

The driver in the car behind him gave him a thumbs-up and a big grin.

A truck merged onto the track, it's big GMAC logo on the hood gleaming in the sun. He caught a glimpse of the #17 on the door as it settled in beside Tim Richmond's car.

"Good to see you again, Ricky," he thought.

Ricky Hendrick nodded.

The next one, a car this time, was a garish pink and yellow, with a 51 on the side and COUNTRY TIME on the hood. It pulled up beside him briefly so Neil Bonnett could wave and flash him a smile, then pulled back, settling behind Tim.

The unmistakable glint of chrome wheels caught his eye as the #18 Fastenal Dodge truck pulled up beside him. Bobby pulled his window net down and shouted to him that the race was almost over and there was gonna be one heckuva victory celebration for him. Then Bobby fell back and settled in line.

They drove that way for a little while, more cars and trucks joining them. Then he noticed the cars behind him parting, making way for another machine.

It was black. It had a 3 on the side and Goodwrench on the hood. The face in his rearview mirror was grinning from ear to ear.

Earnhardt slammed into his rear bumper and bumpdrafted him ahead of the others.

The two got ahead of them by ten car lengths and Earnhardt pulled out to pass.

Benny saw the finish line ahead and floored the accelerator.

Earnhardt pulled to the inside; Benny blocked him.

Dale swung to the outside; Benny blocked him.

"Benny," the voice in his head suggested, "You can go as fast as you want. There's no restrictor plates in heaven."

Benny stomped even harder on the gas as Earnhardt pulled up beside him.

"Missed you, BP!" the Intimidator shouted at him.

"I missed you too, Dale!" Benny shouted back.

"The racin' here in heaven just got a whole lot funner!" Dale replied, and backed off. Just this once, he'd settle for second.

The checkers flew and Benny crossed the line. God greeted him in victory lane and presented him with the trophy. "Welcome home, BP," He told him.

Benny didn't even have to worry about getting the names of his sponsors in.

And that was the latest running of the Afterlife 500.


See Benny's poignant final blog entry here.