RPW Exclusive: The Man Jason Herrington Was Could Never Be Measured By Checkers & Trophies

Column By: BOBBY CHALMERS / RPW – WEST LEBANON, NY – July 26, 2015.

That was the day I witnessed the true person that Jason Herrington was.

That was the day I strapped into a 358-Modified for the first time since a few days before 9/11.

This was also the day the Flyin’ Farmer executed the perfect spit take when he saw me in my race suit.  He then proceeded to ask me if I understood that race cars really do go fast.

My nerves were already on edge because it’d been nearly 15 years since I strapped into one of those things but somehow, Jason put me at ease…even for a fleeting second.  We shared a laugh and then he threw his larger-than-life arm around my shoulder, squeezed my neck tightly and whispered in my ear, “you’ve got this!”

Here’s another one for you.  A few years back, I took over the memorial race at Lebanon Valley for Pro Stock legend Jimmy Langenback.  Word began to spread that we were going to be developing the “Old Buzzard 30” in Jimmy’s honor.

That first Saturday at the track, Jason made a beeline for my DMC parts truck.  He handed me three $100 bills, told me to do with it as I wished and thanked me for putting the race together.  I asked him if he wanted Herrington Farms listed on the sponsors announcement or his race team.

He said neither.  He just wanted to help because he loved that we were doing this for Jimmy and would be behind me whenever I needed him.

That was Jason.  He didn’t care who you were.  He’d help anyone.

Okay, one more.  In January, 2024, my mother unexpectedly passed away and I made a post about her on social media.  Within minutes, my phone rang.  It was Jason on the other end.  There were no jokes.  There were no laughs.  There were just a few simple words.

“You offered to be there for me when my mom passed.  I am here for you now if you need me.”

Even as I write this I’m a little choked up thinking about our conversation that day.  He didn’t have to do that.  He could have written his condolences on my post.  He could have texted me.  However, he chose to call.  He decided to show me that he cared…that he knew what I was feeling…what I was going through…and that he had my back.

Many racers rubbed wheels with him.  We’ve all seen it.  Hell, even I did it way, way back when.  He was tough as nails behind the wheel.  However, Jason’s love of life was as big as those no. 1’s on the side of his race cars (although I always told him he needed to go back to his original no. 38).

I hate to use the cliche, but to many, Jason was larger than life.

He also always seemed to hold court.  I know I’m not the only one who experienced this in person.  If there was a group of people in the pit area, in the clubhouse or even around a camp fire, it’d be a pretty safe bet that Jason was the one in the middle of it all, telling a story or two, or three, and somehow, making everyone believe they witnessed what he was telling first hand.

He was that good.

When news began to float around on Friday of Jason’s passing, I’ll be honest, I didn’t believe it.  I was praying that it wasn’t real.  Even right at this very second, I’m still holding out hope that I’ll be forced to write a retraction for this story.  I hope Jason’s going to call me and say, “Mr. Chalmers, what the hell, bud?”

I also wish I had the right words to say to his daughter, Alexa, his girlfriend, Anissa, or any member of his family at this moment, but I don’t.  I just want them to know how much Jason meant to myself and so many who have graced this Earth with him.

From his ear-to-ear smile to his animated laugh, his outgoing generosity to his down-to-earth personality, “The Flyin’ Farmer’ has left this world A LOT better than it was when he entered.

Thank you Jason…for everything!

Fly High!