The Thomas Clowns Affair

The list of charges against a young NASCAR hopeful was a long one.

Driving on a public street without headlights…Or taillights…Or a horn…Or an inspection sticker.

He was issued a pocketful of tickets and summoned to court.

This story is among an avalanche of auto racing anecdotes looming Sunday in Mooresville, N.C.

The tall tales will be told by approximately three dozen NASCAR-associated old-timers who are scheduled to take part in an event at The Memory Lane Museum.

The occasion is a tribute to Rex White, 1960 champion of the sanctioning body’s major series, then known as the Grand National Division.

Joining White to meet with fans from 11 a.m.-4 p.m. will be two other champions, Bobby Allison and Ned Jarrett. A passel of their peers are to be present as well, including Buddy Arrington, Richard Brickhouse, Neil Castles, Joe Frasson, Cecil Gordon, Jimmy Hensley, Little Bud Moore, Tom Pistone and Jim Vandiver.

Also Jabe and Ronnie Thomas, an amusing, fun-loving father-son duo from Christiansburg, Va.

During Jabe’s driving career from 1965 through 1978 he was the leading clown in the garage area and on pit road.

His favorite prank was to stick chicken bones in the pants pockets of unsuspecting rivals right before races were to start. Many a competitor suddenly experienced shap pain in the hip area once the action began as a broken wishbone had a similar effect to a porcupine quill.

Trace this to the foul (fowl?) fingers of Jabe Thomas.

“Jabe would distract us with some nonsensical statement,” remembers Buddy Baker. “And all the while he was sneaking chicken bones from lunch into our pockets.

“Jabe could have made a living as a pick-pocket.”

Driving cars he maintained himself, the elder Thomas did fairly well on the track.

Jabe, who will be 80 in May, started 362 races, posting three top-five finishes and 74 more in the top 10. He had a best finish of sixth in the point standings in 1971.

Ronnie, who turned 55 on Monday, wasn’t as nimble with chicken bones as his dad. However, he possessed the same down-home wit and sometimes the same sense of outrageousness.

Ronnie was the relative NASCAR newcomer who found himself in a load of legal trouble with traffic tickets in the late 1970s.

He and friends who helped prepare his car at the family shop in Christiansburg had worked far into the night getting the machine ready to go to a race track within a few hours.

Ronnie decided he needed to give the car a shakedown run.

He cranked up and pulled out.

Onto a city street in Christiansburg.

He hadn’t gone far before a siren wailed and a blue light blinked.

Ronnie blurted something like, “I know this is a race car, sir, but I swear I wasn’t speeding!”

Unamused, the cop started writing.

He wrote, and wrote and wrote, much to the chagrin of the younger Thomas, who raced from 1977-89, winding up with 197 starts, nine finishes from sixth through 10th and a best point standings showing of 14th in 1980.

“The policeman and judge were maddest about the ‘no muffler’ ticket,” Ronnie recalled later. “Woke up the neighbors, you know.”