In the Shirley Jackson tale, a pastoral village of 300 people gathers every June 27 to draw names out of a black box for its lottery. Stock-car racing reminds me of that lottery sometimes. Death is the undercurrent that seeps through the sport. The deaths don't come on a certain day every June, but there is a sort of lottery conducted many weekends at 180 mph. And any casual racing fan can name a number of drivers who were killed in crashes before that.
Death hides for a while.
It seems to lose interest. That's who Earnhardt was. But Earnhardt died on the track, taking any sense of invulnerability for any driver with him. If Earnhardt can die, no one is safe. Earnhardt leaves behind thousands of memories.