In 1980, Tom was driving his second or third stock car. He'd started a couple of years earlier at the time when his mates were either racing stock cars themselves or had been and were always at the weekend meetings. They all helped each other with the maintenance, which, as I remember, was significant because in those days, there was a lot of bumping and smashing to cries of, "Bury 'im" as a kind of expectation, like big powerful and very wild dodgems, and I must admit to being a bit shocked at how brutal it all seemed. But there was camaraderie too - off the track! - and plenty of socialising. They were good times, much simpler times than today, and good fun.
Those that raced with Tom are well known in stock car circles (and beyond, since the BBC1 documentary!) The big boys in formula 1 were Stuart Smith (senior), Frankie Wainman (senior), Len Wolfenden, as I remember it anyway, and then there was formula 2, with Paul Broach, Joe Parrington, Martin Wilson, and so many more. I've never been good with names and I must admit to not being able to swear who drove formula 1 and who formula 2. John Lund, Dave Berresford, Ernie Reay, Mick McCardle, John Dowson, Ian Smart, Neil Anderson, the Taylors and so many names just on the tip of my tongue, I can see some of their faces.
Tom's crowd of helpers were affectionately known as the 'Gills Mob' (probably still are by those of us still part of 'the mob'). We all congregated at Joe Parrington's place, Gills (Northern) Ltd; this was where all the preparation work took place (not just for Tom's car) and it was a place that was rarely empty, so there was always willing help on hand to lift, paint, mend .... Alan (Chalky) White did all the artwork on Tom's car, by hand, and Tom's nephews, Derek and Dave Ross (Andy being a little too young at the time!) could always be guaranteed to lend a hand. In fact in almost all my stock car memories Der was with us - me Tom and Der - and sometimes my sister too. I often felt me, Tom and Der were like the three stock car musketeers, though I've no idea why except that we were growing up together really.
I can't tell you anything very much about those first couple of years, the years before I met Tom, but I do have these photographs and if you have stories to tell please do tell me them:
Tom's car sported a yellow roof when I first met him, and his racing number was 637. Cannon and Ball were popular entertainers at the time and the catchphrase, "Rock on Tommy" latched itself to Tom: Rock on Tommy 637 - and Tom wore the T shirt. From 'yellow top' he quickly moved to blue, then red, then became the first North-East Superstar and got to sport flashing lights on his roof (sounds a bit, well (can't think of an appropriate word) I know, but actually, it was really very, very exciting!). I remember feeling so proud when I read write-ups about him in the stock car magazine (likely some of these will be collectors' items now!) it was like he was famous or something, with his own little following of fans. How bizarre. I mean, autographs! ... but I suppose stock car drivers were like celebrities amongst their own - certainly the formula 1 guys got loads of attention and massive fan bases ... and I believe they still do!
We travelled all over Britain but mainly raced local, except for regular visits to Scotland, where Tom loved the Newtongrange circuit. The circuits I remember as playing the biggest part in our lives are Newtongrange (where Tom had his first win), Aycliffe and Hartlepool, but I know there were others. Tom was really sad when, years later, Aycliffe closed it's gates for the last time (we drove there and stood on the empty ground, sparse and flat and cold, remembering the good old days and sad to say goodbye).
There'll be more than me that remember calling into the Redesdale Arms (was that the name?) on the way home fron Newtongrange for a 'Travellers', a fully loaded fry-up that would be frowned upon these days. We went back to the pub years later but it wasn't the same - going back never is. But then, it was brilliant, loads of us gathered there to recount the day. I think we upset them though: one Sunday we'd put in our order on the way to Newtongrange but on the way back there was an enforced detour. This was before the days of mobile phones. After that, the pub were reluctant to let us in, which was a shame.
Tom sold his car to put a deposit on our first house. I'm sure he was much sadder about the whole thing than me (which saddens me now). He'd have loved to carry on but money was tight and, I can admit, I was ready to have his attention - the stock car took up so much of his time. These days, well ... hindsight and all that.
I'm really proud of Tom's motor racing beginnings. As with many other drivers, the stock car days were his apprenticeship into motor sport and he proved that they'd served him well. Tom was a gifted driver, it all came so naturally to him, and in another life he'd have loved to race professionally, to have that opportunity. As it was, he had so many fantastic memories over the years, so many tales to tell. Can anyone out there remember when we were driving home from Newtongrange one weekend and our trailer jack-knifed on a tight bend and took us off the road? CB radios came in useful that night. I remember being in total awe of Jimmy (sorry, I forget his last name) who, with his own brute strength, straightened the bent metal trailer coupling thing (I know what I mean but don't know what you call it) so that we could get back on the road - this after those who answered our call dragged the trailer (luckily with the stock car still firmly attached) up the bank that fell away into forest at the side of the road, back up onto the road. I still get jibed about maltezers but if you don't know that story I'm not about to enlighten you :)
And then there's the Team Stanley do's - some great times there. Remember Tom, Paul Broach and Paul's girlfriend competing to see who could make the longest line of clothes? I'll never forget my horror when I witnessed the nylon y- fronts on display in Ernie Reay's barn. And there's Der taking his invisible dog for a walk at Seaton Carew. And Helen McCardle's fabulous jumpers. And Christine White knitting in the car on the way up to Scotland, a car jamming to a halt up ahead and everyone behind slamming on the breaks ... as Alan's car pulled into a drive alongside where we were (to avoid driving into the back of us) we looked across to see Christine still knitting - she never flinched and didn't lose a stitch!
Tom had a tendency to put his hands where they shouldn't go - in the stock car - and I remember one Sunday at Hartlepool, I think it was, and his fingers were sliced by the fan belt. St. John's Ambulance had bandaged the wound ... Tom undid the lot ... he couldn't drive with his hand bandaged! ... the first I knew was when I saw blood seeping through the pocket of his racing overalls and tracing a path down his leg! Ah .... good times .... a lot of kids today would struggle to understand our generation.
People like Alan White and Joe Parrington, I'm sure, could tell it how it was from the racing viewpoint. My angle is a little different. I'd love to hear your memories about Tom's stock car racing days; I can add stories you'd like me to share. For now though, some memories from our album - some of these may be your memories too ......
And those parties ... the stock car do's ... do you remember these too?
