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Monday, October 15, 2012

Remembering Lionheart: My View of October 16th, 2011




I remember sitting in front of the TV, wearing my Dario Franchitti t-shirt, ready to find out who would be the 2011 champion. I remember during the pre-race show a reporter interviewing an excited and bubbly guy. This man was given an opportunity. He was smiling from ear to ear as he explained his mission for the day ahead. He had to race from the very last starting position in the IndyCar season finale at Las Vegas, and if he won, a fan and himself would receive $5,000,000. It seemed like a logical deal to take at the time. His confidence that he could get the job done was overflowing. The man on my TV screen was Dan Wheldon. Yeah, I knew him. I remembered watching him win the Indy 500 earlier that year. It was the first Indy 500 I had ever watched since coming into the auto racing world. But, honestly, I was sad when he won the 500. J.R. Hildebrand, a rookie, crashed while leading on the final lap. Dan Wheldon passed Hildebrand's demolished race car to win his 2nd Indy 500. I cried for J.R. and wondered why this had to happen to him. Why did Dan Wheldon have to win it? He didn't deserve it.

I never in a million years would believe that was the last time I would ever see him.
 
Lap 11 of the finale. I didn't see it coming. A fiery mess with car parts spitting out of black smoke. My stomach twisted and turned. I started to sob before all the cars came to rest. Uncontrollable sobbing. I knew it was bad. Oh, it was horrifying. Never in my life had I witnessed a crash like that. My attention came to a lone car sitting on the apron. Medical crews were crowded around it. I remember my dad asking, "Is that Dan Wheldon?"

It was.

Why wasn't he getting out? Why? I mean, he must be okay, right? Race car drivers are not allowed to get hurt. The cars are too advanced. All the protection of the chassis, the helmet, the fire resistant suits. It's all there to keep them safe. No way was this man critically injured. I was not going to believe this. We all stood there in front of our TV in shock. We waited and waited. I finally asked through my tears, "Is he dead?" My dad said he didn't know. From there on, I knew this was not like any ordinary race car wreck. That man was not getting out of the car. It had been too long.

I was determined to watch the broadcast until I knew for sure. I was praying and praying the outcome would be positive. This must be a dream. This can't actually be happening right now. The channel went to commercial break. When they returned from commericial Dan's car was on the wrecker with a tarp over it. My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach. I had been looking for good signs telling me he would be okay. That he was alive. But that tarp set an uneasy feeling inside me. The race commentators informed us that Dan was being helicoptered to a nearby hospital. That gave me some relief. Again, we waited and waited for the next update. All of the drivers were sent to a driver's meeting. When they returned I could see Danica Patrick crying and Tony Kanaan sitting on the wall with his head between his knees. I could not control my own tears. Something happened in that driver's meeting, and I wasn't ready to hear it.

ABC was late to a press conference with Randy Bernard the Chief Executive Officer of IndyCar. So, Marty Reid told us the news we all knew, but weren't ready to accept. His voice echoed through my ears. "We have lost Dan Wheldon." As a black and white picture of a man I had never followed, wasn't even a fan, of flashed across the screen, I sobbed. I cannot even imagine how a long-time fan was feeling. Just like when Dale Earnhardt Sr. was taken from us, the racing world grieved together. Our sport is dangerous. It just is. It always will be. Dan died in the cockpit of a car he hoped to make safer. He was designing and testing a safer chassis for 2013. He died doing what he loved. I know that Dan's legacy will thrive for years to come, just like Earnhardt. Dan was extremely talented and gifted. I didn't get to know him or watch him race for very long, but I felt like a part of me died with Dan. A race fan is connected to the sport, especially the people who make it what it is. Dan influenced IndyCar in so many ways and he will never be forgotten. We call Dan 'Lionheart'. A signature Lionheart Knight was found on most of his helmets and the title of his book. He had that passion and strength of a lion in the race car. We need to appreciate the life given to us, because you never know when you will make that final turn. We love and miss you Lionheart.

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