It’s race day, and Michael Carmichael is standing outside one of NASCAR’s great Cathedrals, the Charlotte Motor Speedway, listening to an Army veteran share what’s on her heart.
The last six hours have been soggy. The red, white, and blue tent we’re hovering under is dripping water. Fans make the pilgrimage through puddles in rain boots and ponchos. At the Geico tent across the blacktop, a girl yells like a street preacher, punctuating her words with the side of her hand in the air: "Who wants to go? Who will it be? Tickets to Talladega!"
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