When I played football in high school, I was the fastest lineman on the team. I could run the 40-yard dash in 4.7 seconds. That’s not Bo Jackson speed of course, but not bad for a stocky Sand Mountain pig-farmer whose legs were proportionately way too short for his body.
My first job out of high school was at the Shell Carwash in Fort Payne. There I would challenge many coworkers, many much taller coworkers, to a footrace, and watch their look of astonishment as someone of my limited vertical prowess outran them.
As fast as I was, however, my dad, Travis Wooten, was faster. At that time Dad was near 50 years old, smoked like a chimney, weighed about 250 pounds, and could smoke me. He used to love to challenge guys my age to a race, and when they yelled “Go,” Dad would turn around and run backward and still outrun them.
It has to be a hereditary thing, because it goes back further than me and my dad. My grandfather, Pete Wooten, had it too. In fact, to hear Dad tell it, Pete was much faster than he was. That’s hard for me to fathom, but others have verified this.
One day I was working at the carwash and an older gentleman came in to get gas. When he saw my name on my shirt, he asked if I knew Pete Wooten. When I explained that he was my grandfather, the man’s eyes lit up and he began telling me stories.
“Pete was the fastest person I ever met. One time I watched him race a horse. A man rode the horse and Pete ran on foot. The horse won, but barely. We used to call him Greased Lightning because he was so fast.”
I love hearing old stories about anyone, but especially about family. The old fellow told me several tales that day, including one Dad had told me before. “Pete could stand behind a full-grown man and, without getting a run and go, squat down and leap completely over him.”
The other thing the three of us had in common was that we all had humongous calf muscles and flat feet. And when I say “flat feet,” I mean zero arch. When we walked barefoot on a dirt road, you could see our entire footprint.
I read once that people with flat feet can never be as fast as people with a good arch. Wow. If we had been born with arches, we might have been in the Olympics. I never knew Pete’s dad, Van Wooten, nor have I heard stories about him, but I assume he was the Flash.