Attachment 3891Jim Hunter enjoyed a long and successful career in many roles with NASCAR and a couple of its speedways. He has been elected to the NMPA’s Hall of Fame.
Before I tell you about my friend, the late Jim Hunter, who is one of the newest members of the National Motorsports Press Association Hall of Fame, I would like to offer a brief history lesson.
There was a time – before my time – when regular NASCAR media coverage was almost non-existent.
Unlike today, when it came to coverage, newspapers held sway. Radio was intermittent and television didn’t care. And, as you can easily determine, cyberspace was unheard of.
So fans garnered most of their news from the hometown newspaper’s sports section. Well, let me amend that – that’s how fans south of the Mason-Dixon line got their news.
Thus a Southern motorsports writer – one who obviously didn’t work for an Indianapolis newspaper – was a valuable guy, not only for his readers, but also for NASCAR.
There were few of them. Most often the news they reported was about their hometown tracks. Any account of NASCAR events elsewhere was presented, tersely, by wire services.
In the 1960s newspapers that considered NASCAR coverage vital were located in Daytona Beach, Atlanta, Charlotte, Columbia, Florence, Spartanburg, Roanoke, Greensboro, and, to a somewhat lesser extent, Birmingham, Greenville, and Bristol.
Their motorsports writers diligently covered the local events, wrote features and offered commentary. But they didn’t roam very far.
Their papers didn’t care to pay for extended coverage.
Hunter came out of the University of South Carolina, where he was a scrawny football wide receiver, and emerged as a sports writer for the Columbia paper.
Attachment 3892In his days as a motorsports journalist, Hunter was a familiar figure in the garage area who could claim friendship with such legends as David Pearson (right).
Among other things he was part of the motorsports beat. I am not sure how he accepted that at first but I know he became one of Columbia’s most enterprising writers.
He didn’t believe in anything other than giving his best. How do I know? As I said, he was enterprising. For him, covering a race was one thing – but to report on NASCAR and its people was another, and equally important, part of the job.
Hunter once spent the night in Darlington’s infamous infield to file a piece about the experience.
“As I remember, I didn’t do a particularly good job,” he said.
Well, that is somewhat understandable if you are not prepared for all-night partying, which, I might add, Hunter was. Nevertheless, he did it.
As time pressed on Hunter became a working partner with the late Joe Whitlock. Together they formed a working “corporation” that provided, as a tandem, more than sufficient news and entertainment – especially for the readers of their time.
Everyone in the garage area knew them.
No, they were not the pioneers of NASCAR coverage. Instead, they were innovators.
When I first met Hunter in the mid-‘70s he had moved on to Atlanta.
I was new, but he never regarded me as an upstart. Rather, I was his equal. He offered advice, told stories and never suggested that perhaps I was in over my head.
I listened to every word he said.
Hunter, along with the late Dick Thompson, the public relations director at Martinsville Speedway, counseled me more than once that the best stories in racing didn’t come from the events. They came from the people.
Hunter moved on, and, I might add, to the benefit of his career. He became the public relations director at Darlington, Talladega and NASCAR itself.
He evolved into a role as president of Darlington and then rose to become the vice president of public relations for NASCAR, his position when he passed on Oct. 29, 2010 after a yearlong battle with cancer.
His entire professional life was imbedded in NASCAR.
But it didn’t matter what position he held. He was always himself. There was no sense of self-importance, no air of superiority.
A member of the media was, to him, someone of importance. Why? Simple. He had been one. He knew what the job entailed; what the broadcaster/writer needed.
So he was readily available. He was always a source of information. I know of countless times when he would come into media centers, sit down and answer every question asked of him – and he did so well into the era of the Internet and social media.
He once flew from Daytona Beach to Concord, N.C., just to provide me with an interview.
I once drove to Darlington for another interview and he insisted that we have lunch together – which was at a hot dog stand. But to his unpretentious self, it seemed the natural thing to do.
He always took his calls from the media when he could. When he couldn’t, he returned them.
As a long-time friend I could always banter with him – and I was not alone. I was among the few who called him “Great White Hunter.” Yeah, it was nonsense. But, among us, we knew what it represented.
My fondest memory of Hunter happened several years ago at his headquarters in Daytona.
I was there with a couple of individuals who were in search of NASCAR’s help for a motion picture project, which, I might add, is still in progress.
When they consulted Hunter he told them something I considered to be obvious. He said, “We know you can make this movie with us or without us. We would rather have you do it with us.”
Then he said:
“You are very fortunate to have Steve Waid on board with you. I can assure you this is a good thing. Everybody knows him. Everybody likes him.”
Yes, it was PR. Yes, he was doing his job. However, when he said it there was a significant difference – he looked me straight in the eye as if to tell me he meant every word.
I have never forgotten those words.
Nor, from the days when I searched for my legs as a journalist and to those when I became one, will I ever.
The NMPA has made an excellent choice for its Hall of Fame.
Why?
Not because Jim Hunter was my friend and one to many others.
Rather, it is because it has elected a man whose ultimate lifetime work and dedication were to the sport itself.
And it is so much the better for it.
