CARRYING OUT ONE'S WISHES

Sometimes I find a little gem of a story tucked away in the newspaper, usually at the bottom and usually at the fold. Sometimes they might be about an endangered toad (which in this morning’s paper actually made it in the column next to the fold). Other times I can find a gem of a story, and maybe one I don’t completely understand, in the Legal notices at the back of the paper.

Actually, Jerry found the story for today’s blog tucked bottom, fold, sports section. It was announcing the death of a female sports car driver, a national champion, in fact. She was 82.

Why I considered this a little “gem” was that the lady, Donna Mae Mims was the first woman to win a Sports Car Club of America national championship in 1963. In planning ahead for her funeral, she asked that for the viewing her body would be seated behind the wheel of a 1979 pink Corvette. The funeral home accommodated her wishes.

The little article didn’t say much beyond this, which of course gave Jerry and me a good belly-laugh. But I did look around on the internet to find a little more about this lady whose exploits were outside my realm of trivia knowledge.
Ms. Mims was well known in national and local auto racing circles. She volunteered at the annual Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix and often worked the starting grid so she could be close to the cars.

"She was a colorful person," one of her friends said. "She was just a joy to know, a real character." When she was asked why “pink” she stated "On the back of most of my cars I had 'THINK PINK.’ I liked pink ever since I was a little girl."

Ms. Mims raced for 14 years and in 1972 took part in Brock Yates' original Cannonball Run Race, the cross-country outlaw road race that was made famous by the 1981 movie "The Cannonball Run," starring Burt Reynolds and Farrah Fawcett.

As for the viewing and the burial, most of us think very traditionally when it comes to making our final arrangements. I am always surprised when I am in a cemetery and find something out of the ordinary, “my” ordinary. Having become used to seeing all the ugly flat Southern California cemeteries, whose ambience has totally disappeared in the interest of quick mowing, I was surprised in a cemetery in Kansas to find built into a huge headstone over the site of a young man a photo of his dog, his motorcycle and a chain of some type that had significance to him.

Now I’ve told Jerry that when we die I’d split Tigger’s ashes with him and we each could have a part of him with us forever. He’ll be in one town and I in another, so we’d each need a part of him. I hear that legally, at least in California, animal ashes cannot be buried in a human cemetery so we are probably going to have to be very sneaky to get that little thing done. (Needless to say, we really loved that cat.)

The other peculiar burial I have seen is one in the very interesting Beaufort, North Carolina cemetery where my cousin Shirlee took me when I went a’visiting. This cemetery is worth making a trip to Beaufort, as far as I am concerned. The sign beside this particular burial tells the story. It may or may not be true, but there is no accounting for what people want done after their demise – cars, cats or position, so I’ll just assume that the fellow is still saluting and is not lying down on the job.



Anyway, Godspeed, Donna Mae.