Writing from Chicago
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The post that follows is an expansion of a few words sent privately to friends in the racing community a few days ago. I thought it worthwhile to share more generally.
Sunday’s memorial service for Dan Wheldon will be televised nationally on Versus at 4 p.m. Eastern. Doors to Conseco Fieldhouse seating open at 2:30 p.m. Eastern. The Dan Wheldon Family Trust Fund is accepting donations through:
Fifth Third Private Bank
Attn: Dan Wheldon Family Trust
251 North Illinois St.
Suite 1000
Indianapolis, Ind. 46204
—–
I like what Bobby Rahal said on Monday: “On Sunday the Road Racing Drivers Club lost a fellow member, the racing community lost a brilliant talent and the Wheldon family lost a husband and father. The last tragic loss is the only one that really matters. Our hearts are burdened with grief for Dan’s family and we hope they feel the arms of their friends around them.
“Racing can be a bitter sport, but life in the racing community is so exhilarating that, year after year, incident after incident, drivers choose to race. Dan continued when others had troubles; his fellow RRDC members will as well, some even soon. Racing isn’t heartless; those who participate know that there is no community more loving or more mutually supportive. Racing is a rewarding way of life that Dan and his fellow RRDC members chose, and loved, for very personal reasons.
“Dan Wheldon was our teammate, our competitor and our friend. The RRDC will do what we can to help his family, and we will always honor this lovely man. Then we will do what Dan would have done; we will go racing.”
I was at Dan Wheldon’s first Indy car test for Panther Racing at Chicagoland Speedway. It was obvious that he could make a car go faster. It was also obvious from talking to him that he was a lot of fun to be around; a kidder who knew he was good but knew there was life to be lived off the track. He found the full expression of that in a wonderful family in recent years.
He won twice at Chicagoland, edging Helio Castroneves in 2005 to essentially lock up his Indy Racing League championship. And he was the forgotten man in victory lane at Indianapolis the same year. That day in the interview room, he said, even as Danica Patrick’s near-win was celebrated, “I’m satisfied with the fact I’ve won the Indianapolis 500 in my career. I mean, I’m a kid coming from England. I first came over here in 1999 and watched Kenny Brack win. It opened my eyes to the magnitude of the event and how much I wanted to be here.”
Dan Wheldon won 16 times in the series. He won more than 10 percent of the races he started. He won twice at Kansas, the sister 1.5-mile high-banked oval to Chicagoland. He won the first street race conducted by the IRL, in his adopted home of St. Petersburg, Fla. He won the last race at Nazareth and the last race at Pikes Peak International. He won twice on the difficult-to-master Twin Ring Motegi. He won when Danica Patrick was on the pole and when Milka Duno was first in a field.
He won at Homestead the day Paul Dana died in a morning practice crash. He went racing. That, even with the track repaired, there was no racing in Las Vegas after Dan’s death was announced shows how deeply hurt the rest of the paddock was on Sunday. That pain will not be eased for some time, though Sunday’s memorial celebration will be a start.
Perhaps Dallara will name the new car he drove so many shakedown miles in after him. The DW77 has a nice ring to it.
And it would be fitting if, on the last Sunday in May, the Speedway returns to the pre-”Taps” phrase written by, and spoken for so many years by Jim Phillippe: “On this Memorial Day weekend, we pause here, in a moment of silence to pay homage to those individuals, who have given their lives, unselfishly and unafraid, to make it possible for us, as free men and women, to enjoy the world’s greatest sporting event. We also pay homage to those individuals, who have given their lives, unselfishly and unafraid, to make racing the world’s most spectacular spectator sport.” A photo of Dan Wheldon on the big screens would be a heartening remembrance, even through the tears we would all shed.
For now, I want to remember this photo, posted earlier by Bill “Pressdog” Zahren, from the day after this year’s 500:
– Tim Cronin
