Justin Wilson was a different breed of racer

I first met Justin Wilson at the 2003 San Marino Grand Prix when he was driving in Formula One for the now defunct Minardi team. At the time, the 2001 Formula 3000 champion had just come up with a novel way of raising the cash to make the move to F1 - selling shares in himself to investors who would get a cut of his future earnings as a driver.

Sitting down to chat with him for the first time on that weekend, Wilson's enthusiasm and love for the sport was clear, but his kind and gentle demeanour made an impression. He was a genuinely nice guy.

From that day forward, he was always willing to make time to talk, something many F1 drivers did begrudgingly at best. But Wilson was a different breed, offering his cellular number and instructing me to call if ever I needed anything. It wasn't something most, if any, F1 drivers did, but for Wilson it was in character.

Sadly, I say "was" because Wilson died Monday night, a day after sustaining a serious head injury after being struck by a piece of debris from another crash during an IndyCar race at the Pocono Raceway. He was 37. He leaves behind his wife Julia and two young daughters, Jane,7, and Jessica, 5.

Although he moved up the grid to the Jaguar team late in his rookie F1 season and scored a point for an eighth place finish in the U.S. Grand Prix, Wilson left for Champ Car in 2004 after Austrian Christian Klein filled his seat at the team that would become Red Bull Racing a year later.

The Englishman found success in the U.S. open wheel series, scoring his maiden Champ Car win on the streets of Toronto's Exhibition Place in 2005. More wins followed, including two victories driving for an underfunded Dale Coyne outfit that just about nobody thought would ever reach the winner's circle. Along the way, Wilson finished second in points twice in Champ Car, both times coming second to the four-in-a-row title steamroller that was Sébastien Bourdais and Newman/Haas.

A few years ago, Wilson began to work with kids who have dyslexia, a learning disability he shared. His Twitter feed even came with a cheeky warning that said: "Dyslexic in control, tweets might not make sense."

Much of his work with the kids was about encouraging them not to give up in the face of adversity and helping them feel that they could achieve their dreams too. The cruelty faced by kids with dyslexia in the classroom and on the playground was something Wilson knew all too well from his days growing up in South Yorkshire.

A couple of years ago, we spoke about it during an Indianapolis 500 weekend and the emotion in his voice was unmistakable as he talked about his struggles to read and write, and the resulting taunts of his classmates.

He remembered one day in particular when his teacher asked everyone to talk about their career aspirations. When it was Wilson's turn to answer, the 14-year-old karter said he was going to race in Formula One. A kid who sat in the back of the class — Wilson instantly remembered his name: Matthew Burke — started laughing and said: "No way, you're too stupid to drive a race car."

Asked whether he ever wanted to get in touch with Burke to show him how wrong he was, Wilson just smirked and said wryly: "He wasn't one of the people I kept in touch with." Instead, he became more determined to prove everyone wrong.

Unsurprisingly, Wilson signed his organ donor card long before Sunday's accident. His final, selfless act will help others live. The people who will benefit from his premature passing may never know the identity of the Samaritan who thought of others enough to hope that his death might prevent another family from going through the pain his feels today.

For those who had the privilege of working with him in the paddock or racing against him on track truly understood how Wilson could enrich a life, and we all certainly know just how much he will be missed.

Like us on Facebook

Follow us on Instagram

Add us to your circles

Sign up for our weekly newsletter