Paul Brooks

My phone is filled with messages about Greg Biffle. It dawned on me that Greg left something behind, that few ever do. As I was scrolling through my phone I realized that the messages pouring in with love for Greg weren't just from the wealthiest and the most famous... though, there were many of those. What struck me, and I can't get over it, is the messages from the unassuming mountain men... men who few will ever know their names. Men who silently helped their neighbors after the storm. The men who received no recognition... ...because they didn't want any It was these men... the ones you'll never meet, the ones who never took credit, the ones who kept their heads down and did the work, it was these hillbillies of Western North Carolina, that brought me to tears. They had Greg's number, and they called him to check on him after seeing the news of the crash. And this morning, it hit me like few things have, that every single one of us knew that Greg could have done anything, anything at all. And for nearly a year, he chose to spend his life caring, building, loving, and serving a group of people he never met, asking for nothing in return. What Greg left behind was a vast ocean of kindness to a people who are often forgotten and left behind. ..and these mountain men, they knew it And all they wanted to do was to somehow make it up to him one day, and now they couldn't. I know nothing of NASCAR. I know nothing of Greg Biffle, the driver. But every single one of us in Western North Carolina knows of Greg Biffle, the hero.