For more than 18 years now, I have started each racing season with the watching of the Daytona 500. This event, arguably the greatest race on the NASCAR circuit, carries with it a prestige and an aura that is seemingly unmatched at other NASCAR venues. Having prepared all winter long for the season opener, race teams come to Florida in February to establish early dominance and set the tone for the racing year. Thousands of fans also make what has become an almost "pilgrimage" to the track at Daytona to watch and support their beloved drivers

Now, I'm not one to "watch" races at all. Since my first drive in a racecar, I've always loathed sitting in the stands, and don't watch too many races on television either, as the adrenalin of even watching races builds up in my body and soul, and makes me yearn to be out there on the track. But I've always made an exception for the Daytona 500, as it has been my dream to drive NASCAR professionally, and to win Daytona would be the greatest victory of them all. If ever you've witnessed a Daytona winning driver's face after the victory, you know what I mean.

So it was that I found myself watching the Daytona 500 this year. I watched all day long. The racing had been as close and competitive as had ever been seen at the track. Restrictor plate racing, great driving, and precision pit crew work had resulted in virtually every car still on the lead lap late in the race. When the race had wound down to the final 8-10 laps, I remember saying to my husband that I had never, in better than 15 years of watching Dale Earnhardt, seen him do something "selfless" on the track. I knew he was a great team owner, father, and mentor of racecar drivers, but on the track, he was always the ultimate competitor. The "Intimidator." I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. In that final lap though, in the last turn, as he shepherded his teammates, the unthinkable happened. Like millions of others, I was shocked and saddened by the news. The world of NASCAR had lost a great competitor.

As my shock turned to disbelief, and ultimately questioning the events, I wondered. How could this have happened? Perhaps you have asked that same question? We have all witnessed accidents of much greater magnitude and intensity in which the driver walked away relatively unscathed. For those of us whose passion is racing, are you rethinking the safety devices in your racecar and those that you wear? Should we explore further the safety devices that have been discussed in our Driver's Forum, such as the HANS device, and insist from race apparel manufacturers the availability of Nomex undergarments designed specifically for women? I know that on the day after the tragedy, I was already exploring the pros and cons of the HANS, as well as considering using a full-face helmet in any and all racing in which I am engaged. (I currently wear an identical helmet to the one used by Dale Earnhardt)

As the details of the tragedy unfold, we will all learn of the dynamics involved in the tragic loss of Dale Earnhardt. In the end, it may be that the use of the HANS may have made no difference in the accident outcome. For each of us though, it is a sobering reality that, as humans, we are fragile creatures, and regardless of our stature in this sport, our lives can be changed or ended in an instant. I would encourage all of us to review our own safety and seek to actively improve the safety of the sport, not only for ourselves, but also for those who care about us.