They lined up atop the ramp, six abreast, the owners/builders/helpers of builders watched, their excitement at a fevered pitch. Scores of supporters lined the track.
The red numbers of the timer mesmerized both child and adult alike.
The announcer prepared the crowd and started the countdown.
The guard fell, gravity took over and the combination of plastic wheels, nails as axles, carved pinewood and numerous items used as weights rumbled down the wooden incline plane and the place went nuts. The derby had begun.
Initially, the results didn't look good for my son's car. As the heat continued, things didn't improve. There were some tough times--some growing times. Cars raced and life lessons were learned.
It took a while, but the harshness of life was replaced with the comaraderie of the other non-winners that only those not having a car placed upon the podium can understand.
We left the church with a car, a participation trophy and a lot of photographic evidence of the event. Pinewood Derby 2013...ah, the good--and not so good--times.