By John Sturbin, Raceday San Antonio
FORT WORTH – Himself the subject of hero-worship from his legion of NASCAR and NHRA fans, Tony Stewart quickly deferred to Marine Corps veteran Don Graves the moment they were introduced at Texas Motor Speedway.
The occasion was the 14th annual Tony Stewart’s Smoke Show fund-raiser, during which paying participants sampled a day in the life of a NASCAR stock car driver – from pre-race introductions to hot-lapping the high-banked/1.5-mile oval to riding alongside Stewart and his heavy right foot.
Program beneficiary Speedway Children’s Charities-Texas Chapter invited Graves to sing the national anthem Wednesday afternoon as well as ride shotgun with “Smoke” – a three-time Cup Series champion and NASCAR Hall of Famer – at-speed.
Stewart’s trip to TMS also served as prelude to his participation as team-owner/Top Fuel rookie driver in this weekend’s 39th annual Texas NHRA FallNationals at Billy Meyer’s Texas Motorplex in Ennis. The FallNats is the fourth of six events in the Countdown to the Championship playoffs.
You know about Tony Stewart. So, who is Don Graves? Today, Graves is a 99-year-old resident of nearby Keller, a super-patriot down to his blue, star-spangled socks and a man with a passion for singing, public speaking and fund-raising for Roll Call of North Texas. The Fort Worth-based non-profit organization provides free meals to veterans at monthly luncheons, and much more.
In August 1942, Graves was a 17-year-old kid from Detroit who quit school to enlist in the Marines after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. Following basic training at Camp Pendleton, Calif., Graves was assigned to Marine Corps 5th Marine Division, 2nd Battalion, 28th Marine Regiment D-Company. In February 1945, Assault Squad Corporal Graves hit the beach on the Japanese-controlled island of Iwo Jima as a flamethrower.
“I am a member of ‘The Greatest Generation’ and I’m proud of it,” Graves said shortly after inviting the 16 Smoke Show participants and their family members to join him in singing the national anthem. “I hope everyone in America can hear us, because I believe it’s the greatest anthem that ever was written. Francis Scott Key wrote it as a poem and they made it into a song.”
Stewart learned about Graves and his service to our country during an extended and animated pre-event chat. “With all that man’s been through, nothing I’m going to do today is going to scare him,” Stewart said. “That’s a hero. I’m not a hero, he’s a hero. I might be ‘heroic’ but that is a hero. Flamethrower at Iwo Jima…I don’t know how you can be a bigger bad-ass than that.
“And did you see how much energy he has? I don’t even know if he needs his walker. The way he got up out of that chair when I went in there (the pre-event locker room) he thought he was singing the anthem inside.”
Graves was gingerly slid into the passenger seat of a black No. 14 Mobil 1 Chevy Monte Carlo SS, circa mid-2000s, provided by Team Texas David Starr’s Racing School for three laps with Stewart behind the wheel. The smile on Graves’ open-helmeted face as the former Richard Childress Racing superspeedway car rolled to a quiet stop on pit road was priceless.
“I was scared at first, I’ll be honest,” Graves said. “I’ve never done that before. After we got going, I watched him shift, downshift, everything. I said, ‘Heck, this guy knows what he’s doing, for cryin’ out loud. I shouldn’t worry.’ And then I said about two prayers. But no, I enjoyed it.”
Asked how close Stewart had taken the right side of the car to any of the track’s walls, Graves joked, “Oh, about three or four inches. Or maybe it was six. I didn’t put my hand out though. I’d love to talk to him about that. He had it lined up beautiful. I gotta tell you, I enjoyed it. I really did. Next year, I’m ready to go again.”
Stewart said he glanced over at Graves once he shut off the engine and saw that smile. “He just loved it,” Stewart said, “and it was like somebody took the weight of the world off my shoulders to know that he enjoyed that ride. That made me feel great.
“I did not try to scare him at all. But I wanted to make sure that I ran as hard as I could run and gave him 100 percent. In 14 years of doing this, that was the only ride I gave that I was actually nervous about. It was first run of the day and it’s not like I ran a Cup car last week at Talladega. Hadn’t been in a stock car since I did this event last year, and the worst-case scenario would have been crashing the car with him in it.
“The second-worst thing, or almost equal in my eyes, was that he for a second thought I didn’t give him 100 percent and I’d never hear the end of it. So I ran it as hard as I could run it. Even hit the rev-limiter, right before the start/finish line.
“It was such an honor to meet someone like him and hear him sing the national anthem for everybody.”
Graves recalled that he enlisted in the Marines at 17, only because his local recruiter rejected his attempt to join-up at 16-and-a-half. “We all enlisted during that time,” Graves said. “That’s why the call us ‘The Greatest Generation,’ I guess. I didn’t go to high school; I went up to junior high and out. Isn’t it interesting? Here I am a flunkie and I speak (at primarily middle and high schools) all the time. But I don’t tell them I quit school.”
Graves’ assigned duty as flamethrower – he was then 5-feet-6-inches and 145-pounds – easily was among the deadliest during the Battle of Iwo Jima. Graves carried the bulky, 72-pound weapon on his back and a .45-caliber pistol on his hip.
“Do you know the life-span of a flamethrower in the Second World War?” Graves said. “Four-minutes. I was the only one that came out of my battalion.” Of the 335 men in his unit who originally stormed the beach with orders to take Mount Suribachi, only 18 were left after six brutal weeks.
“I carried the flamethrower, yeah,” Graves said. “We moved around with the line (of Marines) behind us. Our job was to actually pound away at it. I’d go around with a man on my left and right, they were riflemen. I carried a .45 pistol. And I’m ready to fire that flamethrower, it’s all turned on. We moved around to holes, caves. You know, you could get used to a pillbox. And I’d say (shouting in Japanese for the enemy to ‘Come Out!) and…nothing.
“I’d shoot a burst in there and they’d come running out on fire. If they’re on fire, our boys killed ‘em. If they’re not on fire, we’d give them a chance to surrender. Yeah.”
During that famous beach-landing, with Japanese soldiers firing at the Marines from above, Graves did something he never had done before. Assault Corporal Graves prayed to God that if He would get him off the beach that he would serve Him for the rest of his life. That promise was fulfilled nine years later after Graves attended a Billy Graham program. He entered the ministry and served the church for 32 years with his wife, Rebecca, at his side. Graves left the last of the five churches he served at age 82.
Graves, who will turn 100 on May 3, 2025, now typically averages more than 100 public speaking engagements a year. “Don speaks at civic groups like the Fort Worth Realtors Association, Families of WWII Veterans, speaks at churches – really, anywhere he’s invited,” said Mary Staffeld, SMSgt. (retired) USAF and President of Roll Call. “He does ask that the organizations (not the schools) do a donation to Roll Call for his speaking since he fund-raises for us.
“He sings all over also. He sings at the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo on Military Night each year, at galas like the one we are going to this Saturday for the Ashton Johnson Memorial Cloud-dancer Scholarship organization, etc. Some of these events also donate to Roll Call. Don speaks about his service, his love for his country and why we should honor it. His story is really quite incredible.”
For the record, Wednesday’s program raised $78,000 for children in need in North Texas. Indeed, Tony Stewart’s Smoke Show has raised more than $2-million for Speedway Children’s Charities-Texas Chapter since the inaugural event in 2008.
Stewart credited Eddie Gossage, TMS’ first president/general manager and promoter extraordinaire, with taking the event public.
“It was Eddie’s brainchild,” Stewart said. “The first one was a media event and it went so well that I think before we even left at the end of the day he already had the idea to make a charity event out of it. I’m like, ‘Yeah, I’ll come back to it next year.’ There’s never been any formal agreement…we’re just doing this until whenever. In my eyes, it’s part of my yearly schedule now. It’s never been more than, ‘See you next year!’
“And I don’t know that we necessarily have a (monetary) goal set. We just enjoy watching the numbers go up – knowing we’ve had a lot of fun, we’ve made a lot of friends, we’ve given them an experience in the sport that they can’t get anywhere else. And the best part about it is it’s raised a lot of money for Speedway Children’s Charities.”
Gossage died on May 16, 2024 after an extended battle with cancer. He was 65.
Speedway Children’s Charities will grant all funds raised throughout 2024 to non-profit organizations that serve children in need in Collin, Dallas, Denton and Tarrant counties.
Graves’ participation emerged as a perk. “That was a memory that tops probably any Smoke Show memory that I’ve ever experienced,” said Marissa Chaney, Speedway Children’s Charities-Texas Chapter executive director. “So many people come to this event in order to meet Tony, so watching him give a ride to a true American hero, someone we all respect so much, was something no one here will ever forget. It was emotional seeing Don’s face once he got out of the car. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen at a Tony Stewart Smoke Show.
“Today’s event was just amazing. We had 16 participants, most of whom were new to the program and had never had this experience before, so it was really cool to see them walk into the locker room for the first time to have this experience together.”
SCC-TX distributes grants each December to local non-profit organizations in the region. In 2023, 22 grants totaling $210,180 were distributed to help more than 20,000 children in need. Since 1997, Speedway Children’s Charities-Texas Chapter has distributed more than $12-million.
For more information at Speedway Children’s Charities-Texas Chapter or to donate, go to www.speedwaycharities.org/texas/ or contact Executive Director Marissa Chaney at 817.215.8564 or mchaney@texasmotorspeedway.com.
