Ron's page

It takes a huge amount of effort to go racing. In our case we had it times 7. We built engines for anyone we thought would win and gain some recognition for our work. The objective was to have a salable product. It didn't work. Drivers are a tight lot and would rather do it themselves and lose then pay for a product that makes them a winner. When I came home from my day job about six, Bill V was usually already in the shop working. He would sometimes bring some of his friends to help out. One such person was Ron Grubb. It didn't take long for him to fit in, and do a huge amount of work as well. Some people aren't blessed with many gifts, and Ron was one of those. Big and kinda gumpy, not pretty and no money. His teen years were a bit rough. He was going to be your typical ne'er do well. About his gifts. A gentle soul that didn't hurt anyone with a quick wit, and good sense of humor. Would gladly play basketball all night if we would, and a nice hook shot. Would also work all night on a friends car just cause it needed to be done. Tirelessly cleaned and polished engine parts, laying them out for assembly making sure to remove any lint from the parts before we would use them. Always running errands and getting sodas. During breaks he was outside swinging my kids around by the feet, and otherwise contributing to the mayhem that was my house in those days. There wasn't any money to pay such help, but there was food, and parts, and all the skills to be very very fast. I sold Ron a Mustang on the cheap, and then Bill V and I made it damn fast on the cheap. When I left Michigan, he was one of the little pieces of my life that I left behind, secure in the knowledge that he would always be there when I went back. Somehow I never got to hook back up with him and share a soda, and a memory or two. Now I can't! Ron was never the most careful person, and he died because of it. While fixing someones car, he was under it when it fell. It's a little late, but thanks for all those hours Ron. God rest and God speed.