27/08/2026
With our first annual Paul Hensley Memorial Race coming to 191 Speedway, and the events of this week I feel like this is both appropriate and fitting.
Dolly Parton’s worth was never measured by money.
With her passing, an entire world is mourning—not simply because she was famous, but because of the life she chose to live. She was the epitome of Christian values: generous to a fault, willing to help others when she had the means, loving toward people even when she didn’t necessarily agree with their choices, and remarkably nonjudgmental about the way others lived their lives.
While Paul Hensley may not be mourned by the entire world, his presence, his life, the way he loved racing, the way he loved his family, and the contributions he made to the people around him will absolutely be missed. His contributions weren't only monetary, his knowledge, guidance , friendship and love of others couldn't be measured by dollars.
And it seems he passed a little bit of that along to his son, our own 37H, Greg Hensley. For this reason alone we are grateful.
Greg carries that racing legacy, that love for the track, and that connection to the people who make this racing family what it is. We are incredibly proud to honor Paul’s life and his legacy with this memorial race.
Most of us will never have an entire world mourning our passing. Our circle may be much smaller. Maybe it’s our family, our friends, our racing community, the people in the pits, or the folks who stood beside us at the track.
But make no mistake—your contributions matter.
In racing, we spend an awful lot of time worrying about the scoreboard, who finished where, who has the fastest car, who won the trophy, who got booed, and who got the applause.
But when the checkered flag finally falls on our lives, none of that is going to matter nearly as much as who we were while we were here.
So maybe the question isn’t, How many races did you win?
Maybe it’s, How will you be mourned?
Will people remember the person who helped a young racer when nobody else would? The one who stayed late to lend a hand? The one who encouraged someone after a bad night? The one who celebrated somebody else’s success instead of being jealous of it?
Or will they remember someone who was so busy proving they were right that they forgot to simply be a good human being.
The track eventually goes quiet. The engines stop. The trophies collect dust. But the way you treated people while you were here? This will be your real legacy.
Love one another. Help each other when you can. Lift up the people around you. Be generous when you have the ability to be. And maybe, just maybe, leave this world—and this racing community—a little better than you found it.
Because when the final checkered flag flies, that’s all that will matter.
