Some running readers whose racing days extend back into the 1980’s are grinning as they think about the title.

If you can say, “I was there that day,” you’re smiling and you can tell your own story. This narrative’s intended for those who have no idea what the title means including those who love to proclaim, “I don’t see how running can be enjoyable because I never saw a runner smiling.”

If you had been in Toomsboro on April 9, 1988 you would have seen runners smiling and laughing out loud after they got through swearing and venting their frustrations.

Jim Walker was literally the biggest runner in Georgia. Jim stood six feet eight inches tall and weighed 280 pounds or more.

Johnny King told me Jim played basketball at Georgia Teachers College. Not only was Jim a remarkable runner considering the gravitational pull his exceptionally large body exerted on the earth, he was also a dedicated race director.

When I think of Jim Walker the runner, I’m reminded of Jim Croce’s song, “Big Jim.” Croce describes big Jim Walker of 42nd street and says: “You don’t tug on Superman’s cape…You don’t spit into the wind…You don’t pull the mask off the ole Lone Ranger…And you don’t mess around with Jim.”

Croce’s big Jim was what might be described in the popular vernacular as a “real bad dude” while big Jim the runner in no way resembled Croce’s character except in size and name. The cliché “gentle giant” is the best phrase I can think of to describe big Jim the runner.

Toomsboro is a pleasant rural village of 619 people in Wilkinson County. It is best known for its opera house that once hosted country music singing although some might put in a counter claim that Director Jim Walker’s first race is the community’s most memorable feature.

Nobody ever worked harder to promote a road race than did Jim Walker. He started going to other races, passing out flyers, and telling everyone who would listen about his race fully a year before the event.

A Special Education Teacher with an affinity for helping children, Jim wanted his Mile Fun Run, as well as his Five and Ten K races to be memorable events. His trophies were first rate. His awards ceremonies may not have been the longest in the history of Georgia road racing but they were close.

I believe every child who ran his first Fun Run received a trophy. In addition Jim took pains to give a report on the background and accomplishments of every child that he knew in the Fun Run. The runners who completed either of the longer races wondered if Jim would be able to complete the first awards ceremony before midnight.

I knew Jim because of his schoolwork and I saw him at races nearly every week. Consequently we developed a friendship. He called numerous times before his first race primarily because he wanted everything to be just right.

Jim searched for ideas about how he could make his race better. He was not a resident of Toomsboro and I’m not sure how he picked Toomsboro for his race. I believe the race was designed to enhance the town’s spring festival. One thing Jim could not control was the limited number of volunteers available to assist with a race in the small community but he enthusiastically sought helpers from Dublin and Milledgeville as well as other area towns.

The races started in the middle of town. All three races utilized part of the same course as runners were to take a right turn a couple of hundred yards from the start and loop around town for a mile where they came back to the starting line.

The longer races were to continue for a couple of hundred yards on the same course where they were to turn left and go out of town and back in order to cover the required distances. The Mile Fun Run came before or after (I’m not sure which) the other two races.

It was a magnificent spring day ideal for runners following several days of rain. Jim welcomed everyone while giving detailed directions for running the course.

A Georgia State Patrolman complete with blue light flashing drove the lead car as Jim proudly signaled the race to begin. It was about 15 seconds later that Jim’s dream race became different from all other races as it morphed into a nightmare experience.

I’m not certain what caused the snafu but apparently the state patrolman was not listening to Jim’s instructions. At the point where the race was supposed to turn right the patrol car went straight across the rail road tracks and continued out of town.

Some runners (good listeners) ignored the lead car and turned right as they were supposed to.

Some runners (authority dominated) followed the patrol car as it went off the course. Some runners (left and right orientation challenged) took a left which kept them on the course but it meant they had skipped a mile of the race since that turn was intended to be taken the second time around.

Past the railroad was a road that turned right and ran parallel to the railroad and the race course.

Some runners, including this one, took a right there and as we ran we could see the runners who were running where they should be. We realized at some point we would have to cross the tracks to get back on course.

The problem was there were wide ditches filled with water on either side of the tracks. Our choices were to retrace our steps thus losing valuable time or to jump both ditches.

One might guess that no competitive runner near the front of the pack was going to back track so those of us who had taken this wrong turn elected to attempt to jump both bodies of water. To make matters worse I was wearing a new pair of prized Nike racing shoes as I negotiated each body of water.

During both jumps my efforts fell short as I landed in the water but I managed to recover getting back on course soaking wet feet and all.

I ran the Five K that day but I was told by friends that because of the confusion and a lack of spotters on the course some runners in the Ten K turned around a mile short of the turnaround, went back, crossed the finish line, and received credit for running the Ten K. Of course those who turned left initially instead of right also shortened their race by a mile.

Jim called the following Monday night in deep despair declaring he would never direct another race. I attempted to encourage him when I pointed out the misdirection fiasco could have happened to any race director.

A couple of weeks later Jim was busy distributing flyers for his next year’s race. I ran the Toomsboro races from 1988 through 1992 and again in 1995 enjoying each one.

Later Jim gave up the race because of a lack of help but I saw him two or three years ago at a race in Dublin. At the time he was walking instead of running races. He told me he still had a lot of trophies he would be glad to sell me for our Memorial Day Eight K.

One may run hundreds or more than a thousand races and remember little about many of them. I can guarantee anyone who ran the 1988 Toomsboro race will never forget it.

I wonder about one thing though. Does anyone know if the runners who followed the state patrol car wound up in Milledgeville?