
Crew members push the No. 33 Chevrolet, driven by Austin Hill after the passing of Kyle Busch, onto the grid before the NASCAR Cup Series Coca-Cola 600. (Photo Credit: Jonathan Bachman | Getty Images)
As the tragedy of last week’s loss of Kyle Busch still reverberates through the NASCAR community, many fans find themselves in one of two categories: “This feels like when we lost Dale Sr” or “I have no idea what to do or how to feel.” How do we, as fans, navigate our way through such a time as this?
Looking Back
Those of us who have been racing fans for 25+ years will recall precisely where we were when we heard those fated words: “We’ve lost Dale.” At that moment in time, everyone was suddenly a Dale Sr fan. Fans leaned on one another. Phones rang across the country to share the news as we found out. Newspapers and television evening news reports brought updates as they could. Those who had watched the wreck happen talked about their views and opinions. Speculation and accusations abounded as people sought answers and worked through the various stages of grieving.
NASCAR teams and fans honored Dale’s memory in a number of ways. Memorial shirts and stickers popped up quickly. Shrines to his memory and legacy are still found at racetracks across the country. I remember attending the Coca-Cola 600 in 2001, and the eerie quiet that fell over the venue on Lap Three was unbelievable. Every single person in attendance stood and held up three fingers for the duration of the lap. I don’t remember anyone saying that’s what we’d do at every race; it just happened at every race.
Fans who weren’t even born yet know the story of how we lost Dale Sr. It is a tale told annually. Veterans of the sport will get a distant look in their eyes as they begin their recollection, “I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news. Like him or not, you had to admit that man could race a car like nobody else.” There are fans, like my son, who never got to see him race but can tell you all about Dale Earnhardt, Sr. and his glory days at the track. His legacy lives on as fans continue to honor his memory, even 25 years later.
Navigating the Last Week
I remember exactly where I was when I heard Kyle Busch had passed. I had just stepped away from my home office and opened up my X account for some mindless scrolling. The very first post I saw was from NASCAR’s official communications account. I just stared at my phone, dumbfounded and speechless. My husband looked up from cooking to see me frozen. I kept going to the post and back to my main feed as if that might change the words somehow.
Then, sharing the news began. I sent the post to a group chat on X, shared a message on Facebook, and responded to a coworker’s message in WhatsApp. In just a few minutes, it seemed the whole world was aware. I called my son to make sure he heard from me rather than social media. I texted my parents to share the news with my dad. Then I went back to being in shock.
There have been so many parallels between the loss of Kyle Busch and the loss of Dale Earnhardt. Polarizing driver (you either loved him or you didn’t). Record-setting racing career. Tragic and unexpected sudden loss. A highly talented family was left behind. A driver from a lower series called up to fill the driver’s seat in a renumbered car. Silent memorial lap aligned with their car number.
My heart aches for Kyle’s family and friends. I may have never met him in person, but I’ve seen the kind of man he was and the legacy he left behind. His was a life well lived, full of love and overwhelming talent. I grew to become a KFB fan over the past several years, and I can say without a doubt that we have lost one of the greatest ever in our sport.
Again.

NASCAR Hall of Famer Kurt Busch lays white roses on the “8” stenciled on the infield grass during the remembrance ceremony for his brother, Kyle Busch. (Photo Credit: David Jensen | Getty Images)
Moving Forward
While it has been 25 years since an active full-time NASCAR Cup Series driver passed away, NASCAR has not been without tragedy and loss over the years. My mind immediately recalls the loss of Greg Biffle and his family just five months ago. Before that, I think of the losses of Adam Petty and John Andretti. There have been countless other drivers and team members who have passed away over the years.
Death is as much a part of life as living is.
Unfortunately, it sometimes comes earlier than we think it should, more tragically than we feel is deserved, leaving us asking “why” and waiting for an answer that may not come.
But we are not left without hope. We have one another to lean on. We have memories to share. When needed, there are professionals we can talk to (therapists, counselors, etc.). Within the US, you can call 988, text 741741, or call 211 for help navigating grief. There are often local grief groups available as well.
We Are Not Alone
More importantly, we have hope through Jesus that death is not the end. I can’t speak for anyone but myself when it comes to the state of someone’s salvation. I can only say that I have hope beyond this life through my belief in Jesus as my Savior. Looking at the legacy Kyle Busch left behind, I believe his actions point to the same.
You can have this same assurance, too. It’s simple, it’s free, and it lasts beyond this life. Romans 10:9 tells us, “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” Friends, it truly is that simple. You can connect with other Christians who are race fans through resources such as Motor Racing Outreach or Joe Gibbs Racing’s Game Plan for Life.
As we navigate our grief in the coming days, weeks, and months, we are not alone. The racing community is a family like no other. The Busch family is surrounded by those who care. Some day, when he’s ready, Brexton will walk into the largest fan base a rookie has ever seen. Until then, we’ll remain standing for Lap 8 and Race like Rowdy.

NASCAR fans in the grandstands gestured the number eight in honor of Kyle Busch during lap eight of the NASCAR Cup Series Coca-Cola 600. (Photo Credit: Jonathan Bachman | Getty Images)