Bob Doherty was proud of his service in protecting our country as a U.S. Navy Seabee during the Vietnam War.
He also was a real warrior when protecting the pit pad for D.J. Weltmeyer at Grundy County Speedway.
D.J. and I shared a smile talking about Bob’s fierce loyalty while we were reminiscing about the longtime Chicago-area car owner and sponsor, who died July 26 at age 82.
“The last few seasons, we’ve been kind of changing around our towing vehicle,” Weltmeyer said. “He knew we had an RV. One week it broke down and we borrowed somebody else’s truck to tow to Grundy.
“When we pulled in right up to the pit, he was sitting on the pad staring at us with a mean look like, ‘No! You can’t pit here.’ We had to roll the window down and yell out, ‘Bob! It’s us!’ He was like, ‘Oh, OK,’ and picked up his chair to get out of the way.”
A precious story about a priceless guy who has been an integral part of the Chicagoland racing fabric for more than four decades.
I can’t actually say with authority when Bob became a racing fan, but that’s how it started when he connected with a bunch of fans in the stands at Raceway Park.
It was shortly after Raceway Park went to economy late model rules in the mid-1980s that he had a car built by Joe D’Ambrose and put Tom O’Leary behind the wheel.
“He pretty much gave me free rein,” O’Leary said. “He just wanted his name on there. We asked him how he wanted it and he came up with Bee Dee, so we put it on that car.”
It was a direct reference to his time as a Seabee. Doherty and O’Leary’s Bee Dee Motorsports team won several late model features.
“We had a lot of success,” O’Leary said. “He was his own guy. He did what he did, and it was a real pleasure racing with him.”
After his time with O’Leary, Doherty purchased a late model that was driven by Mike Varner. They had an incredible run, reaching its height in 1992 with Varner winning late model championships at both Grundy County Speedway and Illiana Speedway.
“Bob called me one time at the end of a season,” Varner said. “I wasn’t racing anywhere. He said, ‘I want to win a championship, and I think you’re the guy who can do it for me.’ So we got together.
“Bob was pretty cool with everything. If I needed something, he would get it. I didn’t ask for the moon, just to have a solid car, but he was always good. There was no problem.”
In 1996, Doherty joined up as a sponsor for Dave Weltmeyer. Theirs would be a partnership and friendship that lasted for three decades.
“Bob didn’t say a lot, but Bob didn’t have a filter,” Dave Weltmeyer said, smiling. “He’d speak right out. But all in all, he was a good guy. He took care of our stuff. He would see my kids when they were born. He was always there when we had a party.
“Racing-wise, he always had that chair with him that he bought to the race track. At the end, we’d always take the chair to the track for him. He loved racing and he loved bowling.”
I can attest firsthand about the bowling. Bob and I shared that enthusiasm, and often we would compare scores via messages on social media. And when Bob liked you, he was a loyal, supportive friend.
I always thought it was funny when I would post reviews on Facebook about the craziest horror or sci-fi movies, and Bob would always be among the first to give it a like.
I’d be like, really? Bob Doherty? And doggone it if the next Friday Bob wouldn’t say, “Hey, I saw that movie in the theater in 1959. The best part was … ‘”
Here’s another precious story about a priceless guy. When D.J. Weltmeyer went on his championship run in 2022, Bob would always have a special reward waiting after a feature victory.
It was a can of … ready for it? Spam.
It’s a tradition that actually began when he was a sponsor for D.J.’s dad.
“Haha… yeah, a can of Spam, baby,” Dave Weltmeyer said, laughing. “I loved Spam. I always ate it. I said, ‘Bob, it’s like a poor man’s caviar. You’ve gotta eat it.’
“After we talked about it, every time we won a race, he’d give me one. One time he said, ‘Hey, Bear. I’m buying it six cans at a time. You’re doing good.’ Even with D.J., that was kind of the code word when we won.”
Bob and the Weltmeyers were friends to the end.
“As time went on, he was like the rock on the team,” D.J. said. “He was always there and supported us through thick and thin.”
Indeed, the chair on the pit pad will be missed.
Tony Baranek is a freelance reporter for the Daily Southtown.
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