A day I'd like to never re-live, but I'll never forget it.
I remember both days quite vividly; even though it was a work-filled weekend and finals were coming up. My co-worker told me about Roland Ratzenberger's accident in qualifying (he was kind of new to the sport, and he couldn't remember his name). It wasn't until I watched the 11:00pm news that I'd found out who it was - a fellow who'd tried for a long time to get a lucky break into F1 at the age of 33 - and paid the ultimate price for it all.
I remember there was some nervous tension in me before watching that race live, the start-line accident which injured spectators didn't really help. When Senna's crash occurred, my first thought was how far back in championship he was now going to be.
After about 10 seconds or so, I was talking at the TV: "get out of the car, Senna; that's not a safe place to meditate on your accident." When he didn't move for a few more seconds, I was louder; not quite yelling, but loud enough to mumble uselessly. "Get out, damn it!".
It just couldn't be real; five years earlier, Gerhard Berger nearly burned to death at the same spot, in such ghastly circumstances. He'd live to race a few weekends later. Surely, Senna was going to dust himself off, and be upset, like Monaco in 1988. But still no movement, and like many...I hoped for the best. I didn't remember hearing much about his condition during the race. (As it turned out, ESPN's live broadcast, like the BBC's, was a global feed of RAI Television, and they'd "blocked out" some of the most distressing parts of the injuries.)
I went to work not long after the race was over...I chit-chatted with my co-worker later in the day, both of us having not known his fate by then. We both figured he'd pull though, because he was such an obstinate bad-ass. This was 1994, and nobody else in the area probably knew nor cared about such an obscure sport. Nobody was going to randomly throw a spoiler at you, what with F1 racing being the 79th-most popular spectator sport in America.
I get home late, around 10pm or so, and turn on ESPN. Varsha and Hobbs (the race announcers) are being somberly interviewed on SportsCenter...they're never interviewed. And then I know, that's it.
I took a long, rambling drive to nowhere, on the following day, instead of studying. I think I drove faster than I should have on US 27...Fuck it. I'd gone through a break-up the week before, but as much as I hate to say it, I also realized my life could have been a lot worse.