Memories Of Dan Wheldon Linger As IndyCar Season Opens In Late Driver’s Hometown

Three miles from the St. Petersburg Grand Prix circuit sits a Spanish-style home in the midst of a modest neighborhood, quietly overlooking the calm waters of the Coffeepot Bayou.

This was the house where Dan and Susie Wheldon decided to raise their family and where they hoped to enjoy many blissful years watching young sons Sebastian and Oliver grow up before their eyes.

But that beautiful home is empty this week, and in more ways than one.

As the Izod IndyCar Series opens its 2012 season today, the memories of Dan Wheldon’s life and the horrific crash that killed him last October still linger in St. Petersburg.

For some, today’s race offers an important step forward in the grieving process, a chance to focus on what the drivers love most: Racing.

But for others, more time and space is needed before returning to the IndyCar paddock, a place where it’s easy to picture Wheldon strolling through and flashing his ever-present grin.

The latter group includes Susie Wheldon, who planned to leave town for the weekend rather than remain in a house where the sound of race cars zipping around the St. Pete street course – an unnecessary reminder of an inescapable heartbreak – can easily be heard.

Five months after Wheldon’s death, those who knew and loved the two-time Indianapolis 500 champion are faced with a difficult question: How best to honor the memory of a talented driver and cherished person while also moving on with life?

There is no correct answer, of course. It’s a highly individual and personal choice, but one that will take place quite publicly for many of the drivers in today’s race.

“It’s kind of like when you’re a cowboy – you get bucked off and get back on that horse,” IndyCar CEO Randy Bernard said. “They haven’t been able to get back on that horse. I think everybody just wants to get on with the season and showcase open-wheel racing here in the U.S.”

If only it were that easy. Though racers have no option but to shove the difficult emotions aside and deal with the task at hand, the emptiness left by Wheldon’s death may never be filled for others.

“It’s hard to put my finger on the emotions, because it’s more than just sadness,” said Erin Campbell, a close friend of Wheldon’s. “It’s a void. I’m tempted to pick up the phone or expect a text. It’s kind of disbelief; I still can’t really wrap my head around it.”

On the weekend of the crash, Campbell accompanied the Wheldons to Las Vegas and stayed with the family in their suite, where she helped to take care of Sebastian and Oliver.

She was there at the pit box with Susie when the accident happened, and she was there at the hospital where Wheldon was taken by helicopter following the crash. The driver had gotten airborne when he was unable to avoid a massive wreck in front of him and was killed when his head made contact with a fence post.

Campbell did not see the accident happen, nor has she ever watched a replay. In the time since Wheldon’s death, she’s done whatever she could to avoid any channel that might show it – even listening to a recent NASCAR race at Las Vegas on the radio instead of watching on TV.

When it came time to decide whether or not to come to the St. Petersburg race, she simply couldn’t bear to return to the city where she had just buried her friend months earlier.

“It would be hard for me to be excited about being there,” she said. “Every step I took would be a reminder. My heart isn’t ready to be in St. Pete.”

Wheldon’s friends who work in the IndyCar world don’t have the same luxury. Drivers who were close to the Englishman, such as Scott Dixon and Dario Franchitti, must temporarily dismiss the emotions in order to do their jobs in a high-performance sport.

That could be especially hard for Dixon, who was so close to Wheldon he moved his family to St. Petersburg for a couple months after the crash to comfort Susie and the boys. Dixon told USA Today he expected the weekend to be “hell” emotionally.

“There is no way around it: It is extremely difficult,” said five-time NASCAR champion Jimmie Johnson, who lost close friend Blaise Alexander in a 2001 crash. “It just sits in your mind. You try to shake it off, but it’s still there somewhere.”

In Johnson’s case, he was back on track at 9 a.m. the day after Alexander’s death. As he made lap after lap, he drove by the tire tracks where Alexander’s car went into the wall.

Because some time has passed since Wheldon’s death, Johnson said the IndyCar drivers could have an easier time focusing on their jobs instead of dwelling on the sadness.

“They are going to race with heavy hearts, for sure,” Johnson said. “... But hopefully a lot of the pain is behind them and they are able to be in the happy space and tell great stories about Dan and go down that road instead of the hurt being upfront.”

Will Power, who went airborne in the same crash as Wheldon but escaped with just a broken back, said drivers can’t afford to think too much about the loss – or the possibility it might happen to them – once the race begins.

“You’ve got to focus on the job at hand,” Power said. “Yeah, pre-race and all that, honoring Dan, no question you’ll be thinking about him. But as a driver, you’ve just got to put it out of your head once you get in that car and get on with driving.”

Marco Andretti, who was slated to be one of Wheldon’s teammates this year, said the driver would have wanted his colleagues to focus on the racing.

“We just have to look at Dan, and Dan was a competitor,” he said. “We’ll show up and we’ll compete, just like he would’ve and just like he would want us to. And just think, he’d just be laughing at us if we were sobbing.”

Campbell, too, said Wheldon wouldn’t want his friends, family and fans to continue mourning his loss indefinitely.

“He’d be funny about it,” she said. “He would say, ‘Yeah, I’m pretty awesome. Yeah, I’m the best person out there. Of course you’ll miss me! But you don’t have to fuss this much over me. Shit happens.”

Wheldon will be honored prior to the race – his sister, Holly, flew in from England to wave the green flag and award the trophy to the winner. Fans will wear orange T-shirts in Wheldon’s memory, and one of the turns was recently renamed “Dan Wheldon Way.”

There’s a limit to the tributes, though. Andretti, for example, has a helmet for today’s race that combines elements of his own design with Wheldon’s but said he didn’t want to do “too much” because “a lot of it is being thrown in Susie’s face.”

Campbell said there’s truth in that statement.

“They say every day gets better, but it’s hard to heal when the wounds keep getting scraped open,” she said.

When she and Susie Wheldon talk on the phone, Campbell said, the conversations are not about the crash or Dan but about “normal” things like how the boys are doing.

Aside from the Indy 500, where Wheldon will be recognized and remembered as last year’s champion, Campbell hopes her friend’s death won’t be brought up at every race. Too much “hype” does a disservice to Wheldon’s memory, she said, and she’s worried so many tributes can become overwhelming for people.

“I’ve shied away from the whole big hoopla,” Campbell said. “I don’t want it to be trivial; I don’t want it to be a circus remembering him.”

Besides, she said, if Wheldon saw one of his friends was having a bad day, he’d try anything to cheer them up.

And it often worked.

“He hated to see people unhappy,” she said. “Hated it. He did whatever he could to make you feel better. He just hated sadness so much, he would want people to be happy.”

Today, though, it may be easier said than done. The painful reality is Wheldon will be missing when the 26-car field takes the green flag, and a man who was loved by so many in St. Petersburg – and around the world – is gone.

The sadness will remain in IndyCar, but there’s also much to be excited about. This season brings the arrival of a new car, two new engine manufacturers and a new direction for the series.

Wheldon wouldn’t want to detract from IndyCar’s momentum, Campbell said.

“It’s like a gray cloud hanging over the track, and it’s going to be there for a long time,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean the sun can’t shine around it.”

Campbell paused, then sighed.

“I just don’t know how to say everyone should move on with life,” she said, “when I can’t do it myself.”