North Carolina Speedway changes hands

ROCKINGHAM -- Eight bidders paced the grassy infield of the North Carolina Speedway on Tuesday, staring one another down.

They cast their eyes about, trying to guess who were the bosses with the bucks behind the strangers holding auction paddles.

Locals flanked the mysterious investors, swapping hugs and arm pats as if a loved one had died. Rocky, the stray cat who settled at the speedway after birthing a half-dozen litters, had vanished; the track's superintendent said the change afoot scared her.

A bluegrass band played ballads, and auction company officials tried to shepherd bidders toward a barbecue buffet. But not much can distract a man ready to take a multimillion-dollar chance on resurrecting an old-fashioned speedway that turned homegrown racers into NASCAR superstars.

It took 10 minutes to seal the fate of the "The Rock," dormant since its owner shifted its remaining NASCAR race to a glitzier venue near Fort Worth, Texas. This summer, Bruton Smith, a Charlotte billionaire who owns a collection of speedways, decided to sell the property at auction.

People flocked there Tuesday, clustered at the start-finish line of the gritty asphalt that earned The Rock the reputation of being a speedway that tested drivers and their pit crews.

The bidders hailed from nine states, from Florida to Indiana (one called in to bid). One chartered a plane to drop him at the drag strip across U.S. 1. Another pair hid in a truck until a minute before bidding began. No one bothered introducing himself; the auction company owner doubted that many would use real names anyway.

The minutes before the sale aged those who cared most about the speedway. For 42 years, the track put Rockingham on the map and offered a good weekend's entertainment to a community of textile workers and amateur racers. NASCAR legend Richard Petty helped lay the track and won 11 races on its asphalt. For many locals, Tuesday's auction had little to do with money and everything to do with pride. Watching the county's crown jewel on the auction block was like watching the local beauty queen defamed.

"For a while, it felt like I was coming to a funeral," said Cullen Griffin, who moved to Richmond County decades ago to catch more races at The Rock. He snapped pictures with his digital camera.

A few minutes shy of 1 p.m., the bluegrass band wound down its set. The bidders edged toward a makeshift tent near the track. A blazer-clad investor from New Jersey tapped his foot in time with "Mind Your Own Business."

A set of young developers from Chapel Hill leaned into a tangle of whispers and nods.

Andy Hillenburg, a former stock-car racer and driving school owner from Charlotte, rubbed his sweaty hands against his knees. Rockingham Mayor Gene McLaurin fixed his eyes on Hillenburg and prayed the man would get the chance to bring racing back to Rockingham.

Then, everything skipped into fast forward. The auctioneer bellowed for a bid of $10 million. Silence and a few guffaws forced him down to $1 million. Then, a flurry of nods and winks.

One bidder drove the bid to $4 million in half-million leaps; his nods were so subtle that few besides the auctioneer detected them. A pair of men in the back -- said to be bidding for Richard Childress, a NASCAR team owner and Davidson County resident -- yammered into a cell phone and begged the auctioneer for another minute.

The auctioneer called the band back; a few men cursed under their breath and whispered about a conspiracy.

In that minute, the men in the back vanished. The crowd yelled at the auctioneer, "Sell it." Another nod sealed the deal, and Hillenburg broke out into a coy smile and squeezed the hand of his wife, Michelle.

As a bank of cameras smothered Hillenburg, he vowed to hold a race at The Rock in a year's time.

Hillenburg, 44, had spent the better part of the year courting town officials and talking to his four children about a move to Rockingham. The town fathers fell in love with Hillenburg and begged Smith to cancel the auction and deal directly with him. Smith refused.

Smith's spokesman, Jerry Gappens, said he'd be among the first to buy a hot dog and Coke and settle in to watch Hillenburg's first race at The Rock.

"It's good to see something good happen for the little guy," Gappens said. "But he must roll up his sleeves and work. It's no small matter to run a racetrack."

Hillenburg made his first important commitment soon after he bought the track:

He promised to keep feeding Rocky, the stray cat.