Richard Petty: NASCAR's living, grinning legend

A cowboy hat his crown, sunglasses his jewels.

This is The King's outfit.

No majestic robe - just boots, jeans and a button-down shirt. Anything more would not suit the man who embodies the South as much as Andy Griffith, barbecue and sweet tea do.

Richard Petty embraced the role long ago, but deep down he's just a kid from Randolph County, N.C., who, no matter where he traveled, always returned home. Often with a trophy.

Nobody has won more races in NASCAR's top series.

His success lured fans. His grace and humility made them loyal subjects. His autograph - he has signed about a million in a career that celebrates 50 years July 12

- is his calling card.

Middle-age men still run to Petty, seeking his looping signature. Even children who were born after Petty retired are fans.

Sixteen years after Petty last raced, he remains visible through commercials and movie appearances. Two years ago, he voiced a character in "Cars" and, next month, he makes a cameo in a Kevin Costner film.

"When Richard Petty walks in a room, nobody says, 'Who is that?'" fellow driver Jeff Burton said.

They probably asked when Petty made his racing debut in 1958 at South Carolina's Columbia Speedway. He finished sixth in that convertible race. Gradually, Petty improved, won and grew into The King.

Petty represents an era of racing to which many cannot relate. He and Dale Earnhardt, the only drivers who won seven NASCAR championships, are icons in a sport that was nurtured in the South before it expanded. The car that Petty drove to his 200th and final NASCAR win spent seven years in the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.

It's hard to imagine when Petty wasn't part of NASCAR. Even today, the tan, lanky 71-year-old goes to most races. He watches over the Petty team, signs autographs and offers folks a "Hey, buddy" and a smile.

Why is he at the track?

Why not?

"How many farmers you know that is retired?" Petty said. "How many preachers you know is retired? Since I was 11 years old, (racing) has been my life."

A portrait of Robert E. Lee hangs in Petty's spacious Level Cross office at the former home of Petty Enterprises.

"He done the very best he could with what he had," said Petty, who is well read on Lee.

Petty lives the philosophy that he admires in Lee. It guided Petty from his North Carolina roots to Europe, Australia and Japan and to audiences with five American presidents. That Petty can mingle with lords and laborers only enhances his appeal.

Dan Pierce, chair of the history department at the University of North Carolina at Asheville, marvels at how "Petty for President" bumper stickers appeared in the late 1960s and early '70s.

"There are very few people who kind of transcend the popular imagination... and have that kind of status, that deep and emotional attachment," said Pierce, who has written about NASCAR and its Southern ties. "It's like you know this person. It's like they're a part of your family."

Raymond Rizzo wanted to be a part of the Petty family - at least the pit crew - years ago. The 49-year-old resident of Franklin, Tenn., became a Petty fan watching him race at Dover and Rockingham.

He has never met Petty, but he came close once. A chaplain with Motor Racing Outreach Association, which ministers to drivers, crews and others, Rizzo watched last fall's Richmond Sprint Cup race from behind the Petty pits. Petty stood by Rizzo a few times during the event.

It was too loud to talk and Petty was working, so Rizzo said nothing. Yet Rizzo wanted to scream that he was standing next to his hero.

Maybe next time.

"I'm going to hope that the Lord will arrange a meeting some other time," Rizzo said.

What Rizzo missed, others can't forget.

Scott Hall's first meeting with Petty remains vivid 26 years later. Hall, 38, met Petty when The King came to Eden, N.C., for a grand opening.

Hall received Petty's signature and thanked him. He was mesmerized as Petty bent down to look square at the youth.

"No, thank you," Hall said Petty told him. "Without fans like you, Richard Petty couldn't do what he loves to do, and that's drive race cars."

Samantha Hobbs is a third-generation Petty fan, but she never saw him race. The Roseboro, N.C., native is 8 years old.

Hobbs' father, Hugh, became a fan through his father and passed it to Samantha.

"She knew who The King was when she was 3," Hugh Hobbs said with pride.

The 44-year-old Hobbs met Petty once, about 30 years ago. The autograph sealed Hobbs' devotion.

It could be a one-in-a-million signature. Literally. At an average of 55 a day for every day of his 50 years in the sport, Petty might have given out 1 million autographs.

Petty didn't set out to reach that number. He competed in a simpler time. Drivers didn't have motorhomes to retreat to or private planes to catch after races. Drivers often were available to fans.

After a race, Dale Inman, Petty's brother Maurice and maybe a few others loaded the car and equipment. Petty would grab a Coke and a rag to clean with and find a place to sit and sign autographs until no more fans remained.

"You can be a winner when you're a winner, but you've got to be a winner when you're a loser," Petty said. "That's what I tried to do."

That signature, which has as many curves as a mountain road, binds fans to Petty. They long for a personal connection, no matter how brief, with a driver. The sport's explosion in popularity during the 1990s made that impossible. So fans buy T-shirts, hats and die-cast cars of their favorite drivers, but many lack the evidence of being near greatness: an autograph.

Petty fans have such souvenirs.

New drivers. New rules. New cars.

Sometimes NASCAR comes too fast to some fans.

For them, Richard Petty provides relief. His wrinkles run deeper than before but, when he wears his Charlie 1 Horse cowboy hat and sunglasses, he looks as if he could climb back into a Dodge one more time. He makes people daydream about yesterday.

"Why does TV Land show four episodes of 'The Andy Griffith Show' every night? Because people watch it," said Pierce, the historian. "Richard Petty is the same way. He is this link to the roots of the sport."

Petty's father, Lee, drove in NASCAR's first race in 1949. Richard Petty's debut came before the first Daytona 500 was run on the high-banked, 2.5-mile track that fans still visit today.

The grandfather of 12 children, including the late Adam Petty, saw a sport grow from dirt tracks to tracks with condos. He raced against Fireball Roberts, Junior Johnson, David Pearson and Earnhardt.

Petty won at Daytona, Charlotte and Martinsville. He also won in Roanoke, Nashville and Savannah.

"He's almost mythological," Pierce said of Petty's persona and impact on the South. "He's not only a guy that won... (but) there's something in the South that you like about a nice guy winning."

Being The King has its advantages, but not all of them translate when he's at home with wife, Lynda.

No, Petty doesn't have specific chores, but he does help around the house when asked. Yes, The King does take out the trash. He doesn't wash dishes.

Still, can't The King pull rank at home?

"I don't use that," he said, smiling. "(Lynda) don't go along with that King stuff."

Among Petty's favorite getaways is the home he has not far from Jackson Hole, Wyo. The family brings the children and grandchildren to celebrate Christmas. Some of them go snowmobiling, but Petty doesn't go too fast.

"I idle around," he said. "They've got some strong (snowmobiles) now. I've not conquered them, so I try not to do trick stuff."

The King doesn't mash the gas?

"I was never that adventurous in trying to prove stuff, spin wheels or see how many burnouts you could do," he said. "I'm just too low-key."