My first ever IndyCar race was in 2006 at Homestead-Miami, the Toyota Indy 300. The planned debut of Danica Patrick and the promise of an amazing build of IndyCar's rise, back when CCWS was inevitably dying, and IRL was the definition of bravery. That race wasn't that at all. I remember hearing over the loudspeakers that Paul Dana had passed away. Until last year I never saw his accident. All I had of that race was somber crowds and shock. For years I followed the series, the highs, the lows, the highlights and the times where you wanted to give up. I've always had the impression that death is just a part of racing, and we all die eventually, so why hold anything back. Dan Wheldon hadn't changed my mind, and even Jules Bianchi hadn't phased me. These men, these brave gladiators of the air and asphalt were doing what they love and what many of us wish we could do. Tonight is so much different. I've never felt so sad, so despairing for a racing loss as I am right now. Justin Wilson is someone I've seen several times, and each time he had a genuine smile, and a genuine heart. He really loved IndyCar, and he loved everyone that followed the series. He was a flag runner for the series in my mind, and for a while now I've just been in tears. Godspeed, Justin, may God comfort your family's heart and minds.