Reflections on “T.C.” Ted Christopher

Ted Christopher and I first met in 1994, by which time he had already established himself as a championship-caliber racing driver, and I last spoke with him earlier this year.  We were not friends, but we enjoyed a cordial relationship, he in his role as driver, and I in my role as public address announcer.

“From Plainville, Connecticut, you either love him or hate him, Teeee-Ceeee!” would be a typical pre-race introduction.  The fans would cheer and boo in unequal numbers.  Ted ate it up.  He was not at the track for a popularity contest.  He was there to win.

And win he did, more than 130 times at Connecticut’s the Stafford Speedway alone, and more than 375 times overall.  In addition to being Stafford’s winningest driver, he held the same distinction at Thompson Speedway (also in Connecticut) and in the northeast wintertime indoor TQ Midget series.

Christopher raced everything from those TQ Midgets to NASCAR Cup cars to endurance sports cars.  Christopher was the 2001 NASCAR Whelen All-American Series national champion and the 2008 NASCAR Whelen Modified Tour title winner, was a ten-time winner in the K&N Pro Series East.  And at age 59, long past the point where most racing drivers retire from the cockpit, Christopher was still at it:  His last racing victory came on September 8, just a week before he perished along with pilot Charles Dundas, in a plane crash en route to another race.

Driving race cars is and always has been a young person’s endeavor.  Christopher, despite remaining at the top of his game as an AARP member, knew that the time to retire was approaching and had only recently completed building a new house with his wife, Quinn.  It was there that he anticipated spending more time once he chose to slow down.

“Chose,” however, is a key word here.  Ted did everything on his terms, from his infamous “three-tap rule” in racing to leaving open the question of when to retire.

But that question is now suddenly, unexpectedly, and tragically irrelevant.  It is not often that one might think of a 59-year-old person as being struck down in their prime, but Ted Christopher was just that.

Adam Fenwick Photo, courtesy speedsport.com