Many of you that know me know that for just over a year I have been heading up a call for world
peace called "Project: Surrender". This plan was conceived in November of 1999. It grew in my
heart for many months until in August of 2000 I suffered a loss that turned my life upside down. The
man I loved and respected more than any other (less my grandparents), Richard Rennwald had
passed. He was more of a father to me, and many others, than my own flesh and blood. I turned my
grief inward and channeled it to my cause. I made up my mind that I was going to temporarily leave
a new relationship with a very lovely and caring girl and move to Las Vegas. Michelle supported me
100% and sent me on my way with a kiss and a smile.
In Las Vegas I had 3 objectives. Make money to move to Denver, and promote Project: Surrender
and find the answers in another loved ones death seven years prior. Shortly after getting those
answers I suferred two more painful blows.
First a childhood hero of mine, Dale Earnhardt, Was killed in Daytona Beach Florida at the Daytona
500. Then 2 weeks after that while flying the symbol of Project: Surrender I was attacked. I then
took my broken spirit and body to Denver. I tried again.
I was welcomed back here after a two year absence by an old friend, Ray Ironhorse. We drank, we
remembered, and we laughed. His quiet voice and inherrent humbleness spoke to my soul again.
The peace of mind for people like him were why I started this. I hit the street again, white flag flying
and "New Years Day" playing I found myslef in Civic Center Park. Drunks throwing bottles at me
and cars shouting curses. My heart heavy with discouragement I went to the library to check my
e-mail. My heart broke when I read what was there.
Michelle and the unborn son I didn't know I had were gone. After a stay in Denver Health's Mental
Facility I took to the streets again. With Michelle on my mind and peace in my heart I raised my
torch once again in Civic Center Park. This time nothing. At least with the abuse came
acknowledgement.
A month ago a friend of mine sent me a package with a T-shirt from the Pepsi 400 in Daytona and
a vile of sand, grass, rubber and asphalt from turn four. Healing.
Tragedy.
September 11, 2001 I wake up to see the New York skyline on my television. I can't hear what is
being said but I feel something is missing.
The World Trade Center Towers.
Then they're back.
Questioning
A plane.
The silence of downtown Denver hits me like a bus.
A fireball.
Antenna fallng like an icicle.
Pain, god the pain.
Tears.
Bodies falling.
The scream of a tortured soul.
More tears.
Silence.
I put up my walls and go to work under beautiful blue Colorado skies and snow on the mountains to
the west. The peacefullness belies the torment within.
The peace is broken by U.S. Air Force F-16's streaking across the sky above me.
Anger sets in.
Rage.
I want the man responsible dead.
Bring me his head.
I'm torn between peace and vengeance.
I get home from work om Thursday to see Prince Charles on my TV.
The changing of the guard.
Star Spangled Banner?
Brittain's tears.
Europe's silence.
My tears.
Thank You.
Healing.
Epiphany.
True peace is not in the lack of hate or violence. It is in friends, family, and loved ones. With every
pain there is healing, with every healing there is a friend:
Dad: Ryan, Mom, Shelly and Steve.
Dale: Doc, Skip, Chele and others
Michelle: Barry, Gil and Ray. Attack on America and my sense of normalcy: The World.
Thank You.
Legends of NASCAR is going on hiatus. I simply don't have the time right now to handle this. My
thoughts go out to all the victims of this tragedy and the public service workers in New York that
lost their lives trying to save them. You all went down with honor.
