Someone died on the track this weekend. Reports are that Court Summerfield fell unconscious at the wheel for unrelated health reasons and slammed the wall head-on. This weekend's death cast a sober mood on the rest of the race and gave us all something to consider.
As soon as you get on the track among all the machinery, power, and Newtonian physics, you become quite aware of mortal frailty. Not strapped into a steel cage, a human body wouldn't survive even briefly exposed to the forces of racing. It seems crazy to some. I really do consider the risk of death or even minor injury to be very low at these races. All the necessary steps have been taken to assure safety.
I raced the first time to fulfill a dream. I continue racing for the same reasons anyone pursues any passion: Because I love it. I love the thrill, the accomplishment, the comradeship...
You've heard it often but I'll say in my words: A life cut short is of course tragic, but every one of us goes some day and we better have done something worth celebrating. Life without passion isn't living.
I celebrate the life of Court Summerfield. A life lived.