Memories abound in Texas at 24: A reflection on why we do what we do

Picture yourself as a 10-year-old kid walking through the midway of a racetrack, navigating the haulers of food stands, sponsor activations and merchandise haulers.

You look for your section in the concourse – then find it and emerge from the metal and concrete-laden cave to the feast your eyes behold for the first time.

The wide-spanning grandstands towering over a sanctuary of speed whose sound resonates even in the greatest silence.

That 10-year-old kid was me. On a rainy day at Texas Motor Speedway in April 2010, my family shared my childhood amazement as we all experienced a NASCAR track for the first time.

Like some of you, my interest in NASCAR spurred a newfound interest within my family – except for my great-uncle. He was already interested in the sport and was delighted to hear about this development with his grandnephew.

In my early years, we talked about NASCAR and our shared interest in the No. 24 car.

As the pre-race prayer brought us one step closer to seeing that car at speed, I always imagined what it would be like to have him do the prayer. His life as a pastor spanned decades and took him to every corner of the U.S. and the world.

He still had Minnesota – our family home – and Texas – his home at the time – in his heart. Hence, he was excited to hear Charley Pride sing the National Anthem that day at Texas Motor Speedway before the engines fired for that first time.

Finally, the time came. Wearing nearly matching hats, we cheered in awe at the extraordinary drive we saw that day.

If you know, you know about what happened at the end of that race. In my frustration, my hat didn’t make it home that day (and my great-uncle taught me a lesson about keeping track of things).

Although the outcome was, less than stellar, it was still a special day.

Especially as a lot has changed since that day.

In 2020, my great-uncle was diagnosed with ALS. It is such a nasty disease that takes so much life away from the most full-of-life and faithful people on this earth so quickly.

In his last days, the NASCAR Cup Series was stuck at Texas Motor Speedway, battling one of the longest rain delays in series history.

Finally, Wednesday came and the race resumed.

As it did, I learned my great uncle passed away.

By what felt like a divine coincidence, I turned to the TV as it showed the sun coming out for the first time seemingly all weekend.

Raw. Making sense. Trying to. Cruel.

Blessed.

My uncle and I shared our bond. We had those moments in the grandstands. The whole weekend. In such a vast array that time and space creates, it created that moment that will live on forever.

And as I visited Texas Motor Speedway, 14 years later, I didn’t have a horse in any race as a media member.

But still, the 24 stood out.

It was my 24th NASCAR race weekend as a media member – in 2024 at age 24. The 24 car my great-uncle loved also entered this weekend as the most recent winner.

The driver who took over the 24 took the checkered flag. Plus, the No. 24 car was not too far behind, either.

In a sport that is so family-focused, yet sometimes so cruel in the face of danger, we all have someone riding with us every weekend we go to the track.

For Jimmie Johnson, Blaise Alexander is the person with whom he became good friends. They came through the ranks around the same time.

The same weekend Johnson made his Cup Series debut at Charlotte Motor Speedway, Alexander lost his life in a crash during an ARCA race at the track.

Once Johnson moved to the Cup Series full-time in 2002, he began sporting a decal with Alexander’s initials. He had that decal on his career throughout his career, bringing Blaise Alexander with him to 83 wins and seven championships.

After late-2004, Johnson added a “501RH” to the decal.

That is the tail number of the Hendrick Motorsports plane that went down near Martinsville, Va. The crash killed 10 people in October 2004, including several key HMS staff — team president John Hendrick and his two daughters, as well as Rick’s son Ricky Hendrick, general manager Jeff Turner and chief engine builder Randy Dorton.

After every win, like William Byron’s win at Martinsville, their spirits come alive again. With a hat turned backward like Ricky did, everyone reflects as they celebrate.

Reflections abound at TMS. After bringing Hooters back to victory lane for the first time in 32 years, Chase Elliott immediately pulled the Polish Victory Lap in honor of Alan Kulwicki.

Carson Hocevar earned his first Top-10 finish in the NASCAR Cup Series. He reflected that “it’s kind of weird about Texas.” He said he earned his first NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series win the year before at TMS under similar circumstances.

It really is weird about Texas.

This year, memories converged and we remembered why we do what we do.

Grinding it out with your family every week at the track for over a decade, imagining what winning would be like – for Ryan Sieg, it’s coming soon.

Most of all, we remember who we do it for.

Standing out on the track post-race, I thought of all these stories and loved ones who always ask about what I’m doing.

But especially my great-uncle. The conversations we would’ve had about the weekend, what I did, what happened on the track and that first weekend we had.

This weekend and these races are for him and making sure his energy races onward.