Chastain Wins While Carrying A Soldier's Name And A Family's Hope

Forbes

6 days ago

It's hard to picture a more American moment: a watermelon farmer from Florida driving a Chevy at 200 miles an hour with the name of a fallen soldier painted across the windshield. But that's exactly what happened this Memorial Day weekend, as Ross Chastain's No. 1 Jockey-sponsored Chevrolet thundered into Charlotte Motor Speedway, carrying not just horsepower—but legacy.
And then came the twist no one saw coming.
Chastain didn't just race. He won.
The No. 1 car crossed the finish line first in the Coca-Cola 600, NASCAR's longest, most grueling race. A car carrying the name of U.S. Army Specialist Kevin McCrea. A car with Be a Sponge on the rear deck lid. And tucked inside the door—Kevin's photo.
Kevin McCrea.
Allie McCrea Family
The name on the car was U.S. Army Specialist Kevin McCrea. Injured during a night jump gone wrong, he survived for years with complications from the accident, ultimately passing away in 2020. His story, however, didn't end there. It lives on in the daughter he raised, the scholarship that helped shape her future, and in the glint of chrome and confetti under the lights at Charlotte.
'I think he'd be going crazy,' said Allie McCrea, Kevin's daughter. 'He would've thought it was the coolest thing ever. He loved sports, loved competition. This would've blown his mind.'
Painted on the car, and echoed throughout the weekend, was a simple phrase Kevin passed on to her: Be a Sponge. It's not military jargon—it's life advice. Absorb it all. Learn something from everything. Even the hard stuff.
'Make the most of every moment,' Allie said. 'Because you won't get another like it.'
Allie now works at the same Philadelphia hospital where her father was treated. A Folds of Honor scholarship helped her earn a graduate degree in music therapy. And she uses that training to help others the way music once helped him.
'I saw what it did for him during his recovery,' she said. 'It helped with pain, with anxiety. I realized this was how I could help others, just like my dad always wanted to do.'
Moments before the race, Allie met Ross on pit road. She handed him a photo of her father and a prayer card.
'She said, 'We want you to have this. We want you to take this with you. This is for you,'' Chastain told me after the race. 'I put it in the door of the car.'
That photo rode every lap of the Coca-Cola 600.
At the start-finish line, as the cameras rolled, Ross pulled it out.
'That picture was meaningful—and that's mine now,' he said. 'I'll put that up in a safe place.'
He wasn't just driving a race car. He was carrying a family's grief, their resilience, and now—thanks to that win—their redemption.
'It meant the world,' Chastain said. 'This is the storybook ending this is supposed to have. It usually doesn't.'
When I asked him if that phrase might stick with him going forward—maybe as a sticker on the car, maybe as a mindset—Ross didn't hesitate.
'That saying can be taken any way we want,' he said. 'Just be a sponge. Always try to learn something. It's something I'll never forget.'
He compared it to something his own father used to say: Just do it. Not as a brand slogan, but as fatherly advice. Be a Sponge now joins that internal soundtrack.
It would be easy to frame this story as a NASCAR one-off—something stitched into a paint scheme for a weekend and then forgotten. But that's not how Allie sees it.
'This feels like the opposite of a funeral,' she said. 'That was final. This? This keeps him alive. It's not just us saying his name now. It's everybody.'
It wasn't supposed to be about where Ross Chastain finished a race.
It turned out to be much bigger than that.
This Sunday on Memorial Day weekend, the race didn't just end with a checkered flag. It ended with meaning.
With legacy.
And with the roar of a crowd, a picture in the door pocket, and the message to Be a Sponge.
After the win, Allie reflected on what the day—and the win—meant to her family:
'We were locked into the race the entire time… I just had a feeling it was going to be miraculous. Ross and I shared a really intimate, beautiful moment beforehand, and I told him I wanted him to have my dad with him. At the end, I kept praying to God and my dad: 'Please just keep him safe and get him in 1st.'
'When we got to see Ross next to the trophy, he gave me the biggest hug, and I said, 'So how do you expect me to ever attend another NASCAR race after this!?' and we laughed and he said, 'You don't!'
'He even pulled out my dad's prayer card to pose with the trophy. I can't get over Ross's humility… This was the ultimate way of keeping my dad's legacy alive, and on such an important weekend. It's one of the highest moments of my life.'