I'm in the midst of a very busy stretch of days when it would just not be responsible for me to spend as much time writing in the journal as I normally do. Instead, this entry will just have to serve as a placeholder until next week.

From Thursday, two days ago, through tomorrow, I'm spending something like fourteen hours a day at the race track. It's the United States round of the World Superbike Championship. Being a senior official, myself, and a few other seniors, are at work very early organizing meals and drinks, transportation, communications, credentials, parking... all the logistics to mobilize a squad of 120 race officials. The entire business day, from 8:00 a.m. until 5:30 p.m., I'm stationed in the race control tower supervising track operations. As I've said here before, my role is quite similar to that of Ed Harris in the movie Apollo 13 as Gene Kranz. It's very fun, but mental demanding and draining.

Yesterday, for the second time in my experience as a race official, I had to shut down all on-course activities and land a helicopter on track to emergency evacuate a seriously injured racer. The first time I had to do this was last spring. Our team's fast action was able to save the day and the victim made a full recovery. This time the motorcycle racer wasn't so fortunate. Although a paramedic was with him within seconds of the accident, and he was airborne enroute to the hospital less than fifteen minutes later, it was not enough. His brain stem was split from which there is no recovery.

Once again I'm left facing that fact that my passion, motor racing, is not like other sports. The emotional lows that it brings are not trivial matters of wins and losses. I saw the entire accident happen right before my eyes. 100 feet below me in the pit lane, I saw the victim's girlfriend watch the entire tragedy unfold too. I had many more facts much sooner than she did. I already knew all the things she feared most were true. I felt little emotion at the time because I had so much to do. As the facts became more and more apparent to her, a kind of panic, anguish and utter horror that I'm sure I've never known became etched in her face. I'm grateful that I can't even imagine the pain she must have been feeling. I heard he was 19. He'd won his first National level race only a month earlier, and now his life was over and hers was forever changed. This sort of thing doesn't happen at baseball games. In racing, it is accepted that the only way you can honor those who have died pursuing the passion, is to continue on and cherish it's graces all the more in spite of the bitter price.

After a day of racing, it was off to the Marshal's camp area for the U.S. Auto Race Marshal's Annual Awards Banquet. All the officials gathered at an outdoor, white linen tablecloth and silverware, BBQ under the stars. I dined with my friends Stuart and Carrie, Heffe, Mikey, and Mark. We drank wine and made jokes, and smoked cigars, and told stories of our past adventures at race tracks all over. Just before it was time for Jan and I to get up and present the awards, I saw an amazing thing. Someone dimmed the portable lights illuminating the tables to reveal an amazing night sky. An enormous aquamarine swath of black sky was illuminated in deep aquamarine color. The swath was shaped like a giant feather crossing half the dome of stars just under the quarter moon. At the point of the quill was a bright light, slowly rising to the west and elongating the bright patch of sky behind it. It was a rocket, launched from Vandenburg Airforce Base, 400 miles to the south. Although the sun had set an hour before, the sun was still shining brightly miles above the earth. Outside the planet's shadow, the sun beautifully and delicately illuminated the rocket's exhaust cloud. It was a far better emotional ending to the day than the beginning was.

When the lights came back up, the first award I presented was to my friend Mark as rookie of the year. He must think it's pretty cool to have friends like me on the awards selection board! 'Sides, he actually earned the award fair and square. That was all yesterday. Today, I returned to the track for another day of more racing. Tomorrow the same. I must really love this, cause I sure am tired!

I want to apologize to the six people that have written me e mail in the last week or so. I will reply, honestly, but while I'm this busy I think it's more effective for me to update via this public forum for everyone first. Your e mail is what makes writing here worthwhile however, so please don't think you're being ignored! You guys who wrote know who you are. Thanks.

Friday, July 21st, 2000