08/26/2025
We were at a NASCAR race the day I took this picture. At first glance, you might assume Chris was a natural NASCAR fan—after all, country and racing seem to go hand in hand. But the truth is, he never really understood the appeal. He was a truck guy, uninterested in cars running circles for hours on end.
That changed the day he was invited to a race where he met Dale Earnhardt Jr., spent time in the pit, and saw firsthand the strategy, precision, risk, and teamwork behind every lap. Chris was struck by the toughness of the pit crew—especially one man who broke his thumb changing a tire yet didn’t so much as flinch until the job was done. That kind of grit resonated deeply with him.
He was really impressed with Jr. Instead of lingering in the VIP tent with generals and admirals, Dale chose to spend his time talking with the soldiers who had just returned from the Middle East. That humility and respect spoke volumes to Chris, and from then on, he was hooked.
I remember how he and McKenna would curl up on the couch together—her nestled in his arms, him fully absorbed in time with her and analyzing the race unfolding on screen. Those moments became their own kind of ritual, a blend of comfort, connection, and fascination.
We were lucky to attend a few races as a family before Chris was killed. Today, Colton, McKenna, and I carry on that joy with a friend who shares the same enthusiasm. We even caught the recent F1 movie (which we loved) and are looking forward to the Rolex 24 in Daytona in 2026.
It makes me wonder—what activities have you seen others enjoy without feeling the spark yourself? And what might you discover if you gave them a chance? Chris found layers of grit, resilience, and connection in racing that he hadn’t expected. I’ve always loved fast cars and roaring engines, but it was his passion that drew me into the world of racing. I am grateful—and inspired.