Larry Dixon Jr., the three-time NHRA Top Fuel champion and 62-time race winner, was irritated, and as he sees it with good reason. The source of his ire was something others might have found humorous as it was a back-handed compliment delivered by his dad, Larry Sr.

The elder Dixon would sign autographs as "Larry Dixon's Dad."

The simple act of a father respecting his son irritated Dixon wasn't in the spirit it was intended.

"For the longest time, it would almost annoy me because it's like, 'This guy's my hero growing up. I don't want him to sign his name as anybody's dad, literally." 

In the last few weeks of Larry Sr.'s life, he ensured his highly decorated son knew just how proud he was to be "Larry Dixon's Dad."

Larry Dixon Sr., the Southern California drag racing legend from the 1960s to the 1980s, passed away on April 6, 2024, in Plainfield, Ind. He was 84.

Recently, the second-gen Dixon has been asked more often by reporters about the influence his drag racing dad had on his life. 

"What didn't my dad influence in my life? That would be a better question because it's, gosh, everything," Dixon responded. He was racing before I was born, and then as soon as you're going to the races every weekend at different racetracks all around Southern California, you see all these guys racing cars, and it's just noise and smells."

As early as Dixon can remember, he wanted to be just like Dad and race a Top Fuel dragster. He admits his passion for Top Fuel began before kindergarten and wouldn't doubt if he came out of the womb aspiring to race the long-skinny cars. And this direction in life was cast by the legend of Larry Sr.

If you were a Dixon back then, you ate, drank and slept drag racing - Top Fuel drag racing. 

"I wanted to race Top Fuel cars like my dad," Dixon explained. "I don't know what else I'd be doing if I didn't get a chance to do that. I don't have a clue because my entire environment has been surrounded by fuel cars. Comparing then versus now, I have a Top Fuel car, but it's at the shop. And so if your family's going to be a part of it, they have to come to the shop.

"When I was a kid, you step out the back door of the house and there's the two-car garage. And it's got a Top Fuel car in it. That was your environment. You rode your bicycle and went to the garage; Dad's working on the car in the garage. It's a Top Fuel car, and you have the trailer in the driveway. 

"We lived in the San Fernando Valley, so it's a two-car garage, and there's no big lawn, and it's not on a big lot. It's small. And so, that was your environment. Then I get the car ready to go, and then he'd race at Lions, or he'd race it Irwindale, or Orange County if you drove really far, which was probably 65 miles. It was all drag racing all the time."

Lessons, Dixon said, from his dad were more objective than explained. The first was to find your destiny and chase it with everything you had.

"Pick something that you love. I mean, pick something that you love to do for a living, and then you'll love what you're doing. He only raced on tour for one season, but he always had racing-related jobs. And then he would race on weekends or play with his cars on the weekend. I guess that makes the time go and enjoyable if you're doing something you love to do.

And even when the situation got bad, Larry Sr. often referred to an old t-shirt that read, "A bad day at drag racing was always better than a good day at work."

"You'd have your peaks and valleys at the racetrack; I don't know if he ever put his arm around you and said, 'Son," Dixon recalled. "He never gave me a life lesson speech about it at that particular time. But you literally towing your race car with a pull-along trailer with your station wagon. And then you tow to Indy and it literally takes all of three days to get there. And then not qualify and then drive home three more days.

"So I think it's kind of instilled in you early, that hard work and effort doesn't just necessarily mean success. You have to have things fall into place as well, too. So if you can make your work and your play the same, it's definitely the way to go."

For Dixon, it returns to the old Larry Dixon's dad thing; Larry Sr. made no qualms about how proud he was of his son. This is why he initially took issue with the phrase. 

"He never really talked to me directly about it," Dixon said. "You'd hear it from his friends and stuff more than going directly to me. Probably, you keep your family in check and then brag to everybody else about how awesome they are. 

"You think of your dad as everything. And I just didn't want him to take a back seat to anybody on that. And I felt that at the time. I think becoming a parent definitely changed my view."

Understandably, losing Larry Sr. leaves a void in his life, the size of the Grand Canyon, and he points out, "That's on the conservative side."

"I didn't prepare, and I'm not prepared," Dixon said. "I just go one day at a time. There'll be a song that'll play on the radio, or there'll be something that'll remind you of him or let you know he's checking on me. So, I'm enjoying those moments. I didn't get the owner's manual for how you carry on after you lose a parent. I do know that over the past six months or so, he'd been ailing and so he wasn't the same guy that he was. 

"I wasn't happy with him having to live like that, and he's not happy living like that. So, to not be selfish, I'm happy he doesn't have to suffer anymore. He's whole again, and he's better now."

And Dixon's at the point now where he'd be honored to sign an autograph given the opportunity, "Larry Dixon's son."