
In Clauson's case, the appreciation grew as his legacy unfolded over the last 10 months in the spirit of a life filled with love and following one's soul.Īnd of course, racing. Maybe people don't appreciate the kids next door, the genuine ones, until they have passed. No matter how many times he ran Indy, he was still genuine Bryan." "He's the kid next door," said Sarah Fisher, the co-owner of the car Clauson drove as a rookie in the 2012 Indianapolis 500. He once helped an 8-year-old fan with her homework the morning of a race, then asked her mother a year later what grade she earned. The race team Bryan Clauson owned continues to compete in a way Clauson would cherish, changing dramatically the life of one of its drivers.Ĭlauson's legacy surprises few who knew him. But at the same time, he made a decision that gives me life, and that's a pretty, pretty heavy responsibility."Ĭlauson's death, the day after a piece of another car struck him in the head on Lap 14 of the Belleville (Kansas) Midget Nationals, has extended lives, literally, by inspiring thousands to pledge their organs to save others.

"I feel terrible that he died, I really do. "Nobody wants to die," said Dan Alexander, who lives with Clauson's heart in his chest. 7, 2016, then ran several postmortem tests before recovering his organs and tissue so others could live. And it continues to beat today in the body of a 63-year-old Army veteran as part of a legacy that spreads way beyond those three days when doctors eventually declared him dead the night of Aug. In those 72 hours, Bryan Clauson's heart continued to beat.

So he stayed with family and friends at the hospital. In those 72 hours, Tim Clauson's heart overruled his mind. "As it turned out, as crazy as it sounds, it may have been the most impactful, special 72 hours of my life," Tim Clauson said. There is no way I can sit here in this hospital for another three days with Bryan knowing that he's gone." In no-how, no-way terms, Tim Clauson looked at his wife, Diana, and adamantly said to her: "I will not be here.

Doctors told Tim he could possibly spend as many as 72 more hours at the hospital with one of the best dirt-track open-wheel racers motorsports had seen in decades, but one who would die at age 27. The devastated father had just signed papers fulfilling Bryan Clauson's final wish. He only knew he couldn't stay at the Nebraska hospital where life-support machines kept the beat going in the heart of his son.
Bryan clauson in loving memory pictures upgrade#
You have reached a degraded version of because you're using an unsupported version of Internet Explorer.įor a complete experience, please upgrade or use a supported browserīryan Clauson's death tragic, but gift of life to others inspires
