Jules Bianchi
c/o James Moy Photography
I’ve been staring at my computer screen for three hours now. The clock ticks relentlessly, the marking of time with the movement of hands clunking louder and heavier and seemingly slower every second. The electrical whirr of the fridge freezer behind me, a low monotonous mechanical dirge. The creaks of the walls. The twisting of pipes as the boiler flickers on and the flame ignites. A roar in the corner. And all the while, the endless swirling of white noise in your mind, and the deep rhythmic thud of your heartbeat.
Silence isn’t really silent at all.
Focus blurs and vision glistens. The warm emotional relief as tears flow, punctuating the numbness if only for a moment.
I have tried, and failed, to put into words what and who Jules Bianchi was. While part of me made peace with this eventuality some time ago, it is only today as I sit here trying to explain why his loss is being felt so keenly, that I realise I’m only now coming to terms with what happened nine months ago and the incredible man we lost.
I could try and recall and recount the many wonderful displays in GP2 and GP2 Asia that I had the pleasure of commentating. The doubts I had over his temperament, not to mention peripheral vision, after numerous start accidents. I could tell you about the way he matured so brilliantly in World Series, and the deep feeling of injustice he felt at the culmination of that championship year. I could go back over an interview we conducted with him in Force India overalls at testing in early 2013 in case he got the nod, and how warmly he laughed at the silliness of having to pretend that he’d been given a seat he hadn’t and ultimately wouldn’t get. His embarrassment later that year when, now as a Marussia driver, I told him in an interview he was being compared to Fernando Alonso, so impressive were his performances for a backmarker team.
How by chance I ended up being paired with him in a kart race last year and for a few glorious laps ran in his wheeltracks. I could tell you how incredible he was on a squash court, his physical and mental agility proving an unbeatable combination. And how, for the past nine months, I always held out hope of a final rematch.
How he’d always stop and talk in the paddock. How he would always make time. How he’d always invite you over for a drink at a party, put his arm around you and smile that infectious smile.
I wanted to write something long form and expansive and detailed. But I can’t right now because the silence is deafening and this hurts more than I ever realised it would.
So instead, I hope you will forgive me for uploading something of which I was incredibly proud at the time. And am even more so today. And I hope it will give some insight into not just the talented racing driver, but the wonderful person that Jules Bianchi was and the life he led with “no regrets…”
I admired you so much. Sleep well my friend.
The Buxton Blog 
Beautifully written Will. #RaceInPeace
Great write up Will… That interview i had no idea existed, a great tribute to the man. Held back the tears until he mentioned me back in karting days, i cant say I truly realised how good friends we were and how much respect there was both ways.
Knowing and racing with Jules gave me some of the best moments in my life, as well as some incredibly funny nights out as well.
Sadly i know too well the feeling of loss and i send all my strength and love to Philippe and the Family and friends of Jules.
You will always be a great friend and i will miss you dearly…
Ciao for now Jules x
Great post Will, I have no other words other than R.I.P. Jules.
Thankyou Will, lovely interview. Only heightens my opinion of him and what we lost. Bye Jules, never forgotten.
No regrets but, we mourn what could have been.
So beautifully put Will, that’s all you could and needed to say…
Fine work ,very fine work Will .
Poetic and to the point .
Thanks for putting into word your feelings and most of our thoughts
Again Fine work
Thanks
Greg
Nice words Will. I never had the pleasure of meeting him. But we did have an item or two donated and signed by him.
His talent and potential will be missed.
WB- Truly enjoyed meeting you last year at COTA. Just found your blog and was excited to see my first posting delivered to my Inbox. I just wish it was anything but this terrible tragedy. All of the F1 world is in mourning this week. Thank you for helping us find our voice.
.
All of the F1 world is in mourning this week. Thanks for helping us find our voice.
Will, you have paid a tremendous homage to Jules when you run that Marussia Interview; you showed the man we’ve lost, the human being, the joy of life he had. Thanks for that at least I got to know a valuable human being, thanks to a great interview.
There is so much I love about F1. Over the years I have read most of your posts and learn so much. Having only been to a race once in Montreal in 2012, I have to have a long distance view of something I wish I could see everyday. That’s why everytime you write about F1, it brings us a little to closer, and little more knowledgeable and makes us love it just that much more.
I am so sorry for your loss of a friend and someone you admired.
Your words have brought your readers a little closer to understanding who Jules Bianchi was without saying too much at all. He had a beautiful smile.
Will, you said it all and I share you sentiment. Sometimes you just do not have to say anything.
#RaceInPeace JUles. Excellent post for hard times like these, Will. Good work.
Reblogged this on annaf1 and commented:
What a moving tribute , beautifully written and heartfelt.
A beautiful and heartfelt post, Will. While reading it a poem came to mind by Dylan Thomas titled “Fern Hill” the last stanza rang so very clear in my soul:
“Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would
take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.”
You grieve not alone, friend I’ve never met, for all of us who’ve chosen Motorsports are touched. I envy you, for you and your piers are young and easy, and have thankfully few reasons to mourn in our community. In my long years of race involvement (some 55) I went from losing a friend perhaps six or more times a year to the current days that only pose that occasional reminder that we are “in the mercy of his means.”
Keep writing Will, we need your heart and acumen, and I need you as the new Henry Manny III.
Thank god you did that interview. It already is the tribute you’re trying to write. I’ve watched it many times now, and I really think it “puts into words what and who Jules Bianchi was” – and in his own words as well. You could not write or film a more fitting legacy for you friend. Bravo, and I am so sorry for your loss.
I want to say I’m sorry for your loss Will, as an individual, and the loss his parents, brother, sister, family friends and teammates are facing, and about what we lost, what we all as fans of motorsport lost, but sorry isn’t adequate. This is a deep wound for all of us, and I can not imagine how deep it cuts for those closest to him. I can not imagine.
It’s really hard to deal with the passing of Jules Bianchi. I know I never met him, I never knew him personally, but motorsports is more than a sport, it’s a community of people, from fans to reporters to photographers, team members, mechanics, team principals, drivers, and everyone in between. It’s an all consuming passion and drive. There are people like myself who spend hours a day reading about the sport, learning about driving techniques and setups, who watch old races and love racing just the same as everyone who loves Formula Ford to Formula 1, and we all feel that same passion. Everyone who’s given a big part of their life and their time to this juvenile, boyish spectacle of cars going as fast as they possibly can gets the same rush from it, it doesn’t matter how you’re involved with it, it’s a thrill. Some people go farther than others, and I respect that. I respect the sacrifices it takes to be involved in motorsport at a professional level.
We as fans of the sport respect each others abandon, and we all know our favourite sport is scary as hell. We all know people can get hurt, but every weekend, we’re consumed by it. No one wants to see someone get hurt, or worse, but it happens. The selfish thing is it’s all worth it. What it brings to us as fans of motorsport, it’s worth it. How it enriches our lives and how it makes us feel. Those insane highs are amazing, as a collective of fans, we all chase that feeling in one way or another. Some people go so far as to walk away from a normal personal life to get it. If you’re involved in a high tier of motorsport, you don’t have a life. You don’t go out. You don’t party, you don’t get to unwind but a handful of times a year. Every waking moment of everyone’s life in professional motorsports, drivers, team principals, mechanics, and all the way down, these are people who walked away from normalcy and the comforts of free time and leisure all to give people like me something to look forward on Saturday and Sunday afternoons.
I want them to, I don’t want them to ever stop. I want to wake up at 4:30 AM next Sunday and watch the Hungarian Grand Prix. I will, lots of people will. People will race. Someone might get hurt, or worse. We leave that door open. Everyone does. It can’t be closed, it can’t ever be closed. As a fan, I’m not at all close to walking through it, I’ll be sitting in a comfy chair watching the race, but some people do walk that line, they knock on the door. When someone on the other side answers, it’s hard to deal with.
I have a deep appreciation for people who give their personal lives, and well being to motorsport. They’ve made my life better. It’s hard to lose people who are a part of that, especially when it didn’t need to happen. What happened to result in his passing will never be okay. Myself and millions of other passionate racing fans have to deal with that. We have to accept our selfishness. We have to, because we know it’s worth it. For everyone involved in motorsport, it’s worth the risk. We miss every driver we lose, we miss all the memories that will never be. Every weekend, we know it could happen to someone, but here we are. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll look forward to every Sunday, and I’ll always be scared that someone will get hurt, I always am, every week. When I see a full grid and five red lights, I know there are no guarantees, parts of me’s always scared that someone will get hurt. I hate that it happened, someone did get hurt, someone died. I didn’t want it to. This is the other side. This is the opposite of those exhilarating rushes. It’s always there, everyone knows it, but it’s hard to see. It’s hard to face it, but sometimes we have to. It’s not easy to lose part of my community, it’s a community of millions of people. Sometimes we lose people, and I mourn them all. It’s hard to hear about, but when you’re involved in it so closely, and you watch it happen live, it hits you hard. It hits you really hard.
The hardest part to deal with is it’s not okay. It didn’t have to happen. Two parents, a brother and a sister, all his family and friends, teammates and fans didn’t have to lose him, but he’s gone. It’s not okay, nothing will make it right. It’s hard to say good will come out of something that didn’t have to happen. It won’t be okay. Jules Bianchi is gone, and he shouldn’t be. Every fan of motorsport will carry that guilt to the next race they watch. Our respite will come on Sundays, when for a while it will be easier. Our favourite thing on the planet will be happening right in front of us, and we’ll be consumed. We’ll remember that everyone wants nothing more than to see four tyres on the tarmac that are powered by an engine being driven at 100%. When those five red lights go out we won’t forget the danger, but we’ll be more consumed by the excitement than the sadness. Having something that means so much to you is valuable, something that you’re so passionate about you can’t help but be consumed by it. The best medicine is that which can hurt you. We as fans of the sport know this. We all swallow that pill. All of us. We know it’s worth it. It doesn’t make it any easier when you land on the other side of it, it doesn’t make that confusing guilt easier, that guilt of knowing your passion cost someone their life. Every week, every racing fan swallows a pill that’s hard and scary to swallow. It’s a rush. Week in week out, we come out on the good side of it. This week the motorsport community got the worst of it.
I want it to be okay, Will. I don’t want him to be gone, but that can’t be changed. It shouldn’t have happened like this, and I don’t want your friend to be gone, I don’t want a son and a brother to be gone, I don’t want a friend to so many people to be gone, I don’t want someone from my community, my cherished and loved community of motorsport fanatics to be gone.
It’s hard. It’s really hard. I grieve with everyone reading this article, and every racing fan.
Thanks for writing, Will. Thanks for telling us all, for so many years why he was so special, why he matters, and why he’ll continue to matter. It means a lot, to all of us.
So well written Will, as always. Jules has joined the greats, just far too soon.
Loss is hard, so brevity is understood.
I am still very angry at the FIA, F1, Bernie, Charlie, et. al., for allowing this to happen and the lack of answers we have received about how it happened (where’s the video?)!
Will, that was the perfect tribute. Since that horrible day, I have watched that same segment many times, enjoying the light that is Jules.
As I hear my own fridge run, I hear your disturbed silence. it reminds you wherever you are it is never truly silent. As a denizen of foreign abodes, it is only more true.
In the unquiet noise we let our minds drift to our truest feelings.
#ShineOnJules
What a sad day for F1 and more importantly for the Bianchi family. We take for granted the risks these driver athletes take, and the high degree of skill they have to make split second decisions. With the passing of Jules, I say a prayer for his young life and give thanks for the awesome talent he shared with us fans. Blessings to his family, his F1 team, and all F1 drivers/support teams. RIP Jules Bianchi. Thanks also to you Will for the insights you give on these amazing athletes. The profiles and on point reporting deepens our appreciation for the sport and for the drivers who dedicate their lives to perfection.
Great post Will. One can only wonder what Jules might have accomplished had he been able to secure a seat at Ferrari. I think with the right car and right team around him; he would have been running up front contending for podiums.
When I heard that Jules had passed, I was reminded of that dark weekend at Imola with Roland and Ayrton.
Formula 1 has come so far safety wise since the accidents at Imola but it still has a ways to go.
The 2014 grand prix at Suzuka should never have been run given the weather conditions. As I was watching the race, I was reminded of footage that I have seen of the GP in Fiji in 1976. That race should have never been run either but, like Suzuka, Formula 1 had an obligation to the promoters, TV, etc. to run the race. Driver safety should always be first but money speaks loader than common sense sometimes. It had been so long since Formula 1 had a fatal accident I think that the people involved in the sport thought that their was a chance that it might not happen again which is dangerous complacency.
Hopefully, Jules Bianchi’s passing will make everyone stop and think for a moment about ways that the sport can be made safer because Formula 1 will always be dangerous. The crane should have never been where it was but, it all comes down to the race should have been postponed or cancelled.
If the race was cancelled, the money lost could have been made again possibly in the future. By running a race that risked irreplaceable human lives in poor weather conditions, the promoters, commercial rights holder, etc. made the choice that money was more important than the drivers’ lives. Hopefully, if a situation like Suzuka 2014 presents itself again, people can put aside their greed and think of the potential human cost.
A family has now lost something that money can’t buy a replacement of…a son, brother, family member. Rest in peace Jules.
Reblogged this on Thoughts From A Dirndl Girl and commented:
Great post Will. One can only wonder what Jules might have accomplished had he been able to secure a seat at Ferrari. I think with the right car and right team around him; he would have been running up front contending for podiums.
When I heard that Jules had passed, I was reminded of that dark weekend at Imola with Roland and Ayrton.
Formula 1 has come so far safety wise since the accidents at Imola but it still has a ways to go.
The 2014 grand prix at Suzuka should never have been run given the weather conditions. As I was watching the race, I was reminded of footage that I have seen of the GP in Fiji in 1976. That race should have never been run either but, like Suzuka, Formula 1 had an obligation to the promoters, TV, etc. to run the race. Driver safety should always be first but money speaks loader than common sense sometimes. It had been so long since Formula 1 had a fatal accident I think that the people involved in the sport thought that their was a chance that it might not happen again which is dangerous complacency.
Hopefully, Jules Bianchi’s passing will make everyone stop and think for a moment about ways that the sport can be made safer because Formula 1 will always be dangerous. The crane should have never been where it was but, it all comes down to the race should have been postponed or cancelled.
If the race was cancelled, the money lost could have been made again possibly in the future. By running a race that risked irreplaceable human lives in poor weather conditions, the promoters, commercial rights holder, etc. made the choice that money was more important than the drivers’ lives. Hopefully, if a situation like Suzuka 2014 presents itself again, people can put aside their greed and think of the potential human cost.
A family has now lost something that money can’t buy a replacement of…a son, brother, family member. Rest in peace Jules.
I can’t imagine the pain of those who knew him! As I fan I’m heart broken this happened, still had the hope he would recover and come out strong, although we knew his injuries showed the opposite. I’m touched by everyone who went the funeral and the way they’ve shown they’ll never forget Jules. With everything going on in F1, it can be said that at the end of the day, F1 is a family!
Mahalo nui a loa for this story and the wonderful interview. Jules will be missed for sure
[…] schrieb einen berührenden Blogeintrag nach der Nachricht von Bianchis Tod. Zwar lässt sich mit Worten nicht beschreiben, welch große […]
Dear Will,
One of the reasons I love, “Off The Grid” is because of these interviews with drivers who are not from the front running teams. Your interview with Jules on OTG after the points at Monaco was perhaps ones of the best – a certain thoughtfulness (like Senna), self-belief WITHOUT arrogance and someone with feet firmly on the ground. I saved that episode on the DVR for my young son to watch later, because I thought I saw something rare that day.
He clearly trusted you and watching your interactions with the other drivers, it’s quite obvious that though not everyone is your friend, they respect you in-spite of your tough questions.
Thank you for that opportunity where we got to know Jules Bianchi a little bit better and for all the good work you do..
Suzuka is one of my favorite circuits and don’t get me started about how the 2014 race was run. We had a lot of good come after the last time we lost drivers in F1. Hope the loss of Jules will result in change for the better.
May he rest in peace!