During much of his career, Crawford worked as a Tulsa firefighter, and it was here, according to Stone, that Ray developed the habit of tagging a nickname on all he knew. It was a trait current Port City Raceway promoter Mike Eubanks picked up on as well.
“Ray was a storyteller,” Mike said. “But his stories were all true. He had a nickname for everybody, so you had to listen closely to his stories, because he used those nicknames and it would take you a minute to understand who he was talking about.”
In a moment of candor, Stone admitted, “I was afraid to ask him what my nickname was.”
Crawford began to wind down his time behind the wheel as his son Donnie began progressing through the ranks. In the first of several ironies, Donnie would soon find himself locked in a torrid battle for the Tulsa Speedway championship with Harold Hillenburg‘s son.
In time, Andy Hillenburg would carve out a spectacular sprint car career of his own. Meanwhile, Donnie Crawford would capture a staggering 14 track championships in Tulsa.
As many know, tragedy struck when Donnie‘s son, Donnie Ray, was killed by a troubled relative.
Donnie Ray had already shown tremendous promise as a racer, was named Rookie of the Year at the Chili Bowl in 2007, and four years later was a preliminary night winner at the event.
As great as these accomplishments were, they paled in comparison to his heroism at Oklahoma‘s I-44 Speedway in 2008.
Young 12-year-old racer Harli White was trapped in a burning race car, and it looked like there was no way to get her out. That‘s until Donnie Ray sprang into action.
Once he realized she was in trouble, Donnie Ray plunged into the cockpit and somehow extracted her. There is no question that he saved her life. Harli White races to this day.
Donnie Ray never hesitated to put himself in danger for a simple reason — that‘s how he was raised.
It is always difficult to lose a racer like Ray Crawford, but in this case the loss cuts deeper because we have lost an even finer man. After Crawford and Hahn had hung up their helmets, the frost quickly melted and a friendship began.
One thing that brought them together was a time when his grandson, Blake Hahn, and Donnie Ray Crawford were teammates.
“Ray and I were in the pits and talking,” Hahn recalled. “And I said, ‘Isn‘t it ironic, me and you butted heads out at Tulsa Speedway for 10 years and now our grandsons are teammates?‘
“Ray did a very good job with his kids, because Donnie is a good kid and Donnie Ray was a good kid too. He was just an outstanding person and a great race car driver and I don‘t know what else to say. I think the one thing Ray and I had for each other was respect.”
When Mike Eubanks thinks about Ray Crawford, racing is only a part of the equation.
“It is hard to put into words what Ray meant to so many,” he said. “That man had a heart of gold. He was such a good man, with a good, kind heart. He loved his family like no other, and they all loved and adored him. He was a happy man who lived a happy life. Ray was a champion on and off the track. His smile would make you smile, and make you want to talk with him. And it would make your day.
Ray was willing to help anybody. He worked hard to win, and he passed that down to his son and grandson. Ray was bigger than life and a pure joy to know.”
Because he was involved in the Tulsa racing scene for so long, Crawford impacted the lives of many of racing‘s current stars as well.
Recently-crowned USAC sprint car champion Brady Bacon, reflecting on the life of Ray Crawford, said that, “Ray was one-of-a-kind, always full of kindness and willing to lend a helping hand. His own racing accomplishments demand respect on their own, but the legacy he helped establish through three generations of Crawfords will never be forgotten. A true racer and a great man. He will be sorely missed.”
For those who were not fortunate to witness it firsthand, it is difficult to convey the magic one could find on race night at the Tulsa Fairgrounds in the time of Emmett Hahn, Harold Leep, Jerry Stone, Derrill Brazeal, and so many more.
Among those souls who put down their hard-earned cash night after night to watch their heroes run, few were as popular with the fans as Ray Crawford.
Crawford was the embodiment of a saying the late USAC official Dick Jordan used to share.
“There is a difference,” Jordan would say, “between winning a points title and being a champion.”
Ray Crawford was a champion.
He leaves behind Glenda, his wife of six decades, as well as son Donnie, daughters Robin and Kelly, and a legion of people from all walks of life who loved him.