This is the 21^st Father’s Day that I will once again spend without my oldest son, Mark. 

I am most certain we would have been planning which NASCAR track we would be “hitting” next.

Unfortunately, there are no more Father’s Days with my son, no more NASCAR races, no more laughs and certainly no more memories to make. 

I miss my son terribly and the decision of one person in less than a moment to not pay attention to a simple safety law ended time with my son. 

As Mark’s dad, I can tell you that no parent should ever have to endure the pain my wife, Gwen and I have suffered. 

The hole in our hearts will never heal but we press on in hope that our message will be heard through Melissa, (our daughter in law) as she advocates for Roadway safety commitments, programs, and The Mark Wandall Foundation. 

As a Dad, I can tell you that Mark was everything a parent could ever ask for and then some. Our time was so special and he is tragically missed. 

I was at the crash site and witnessed our son in the car and I take that vision to bed every night because of an inattentive driver. 

The personal repercussions from this crash are ten-fold.

By writing this message about my son, who he was, and who we will never hug again; I plead with all drivers to recognize that we are driving “weapons.” That we all have a responsibility to keep each other and all road users safe on our roadways. 

If we can reach just one person, it will profoundly save a life. 

We want to mitigate the opportunity to inflict this type of horrific emotional pain on anyone due to poor driving habits.

We all have the opportunity to be safe, mindful drivers if we choose. When we choose safety over risky behavior we save lives. 

We can all be unintentional violators and take a life at any moment. We are the ones who can stop this type of behavior.

I am pleading with you on this Father’s Day and every day to be mindful while driving so you do not take someone else’s son-shine away. 

Bud Wandall, Marks Dad

The phone rang late Friday night, October 24th, but we didn’t get up.  We just let it go. A minute later, the phone rang again.  I reluctantly answered the phone (no caller ID then).  I will never forget Mark’s dad saying somberly, “we lost Mark tonight.” I don’t remember if I dropped the phone or set it on the bed.  I just sank.  My wife picked up the phone and listened to the horrific details of what had just happened.  Before I knew it, my wife was driving us to the hospital, to see Melissa, Mark’s parents, and Phil (Melissa’s brother, who was in critical condition). I vividly remember walking up and Melissa meeting me outside the hospital.  Here is this woman, 9 months pregnant, having just lost her husband and father to her unborn child.  She asks me how I am doing?  What an extraordinary human being…

Mark and I lived together after college when both of us eventually met our future wives.  He was such a great guy, so full of life.  I was so incredibly happy for Mark & Melissa when they got married. The one thing I admired about Mark, more than anything, was his ability to just let things go.  To Mark, there were far worse things in life, to let the little things bother him.  Not to say he didn’t occasionally get frustrated with the computer at work or the AC at the house, but most of the time LIFE just didn’t get to him.

Although I will say, his limitless confidence made me laugh when they got pregnant.  He was so adamant that their lives wouldn’t change one bit.  As a father of a 1-year old, I had an ongoing debate with Mark, knowing that sleepless nights were ahead and what the throws of a newborn would bring to their life. Who knows, I could have been wrong. As laid back as Mark was, he would have been the one guy to figure it out.  Unfortunately, we will never know.  That is my biggest struggle with his death and the timing of it.

Melissa was 9 months pregnant when a reckless driver barreled through a blatant red light, taking away Mark’s chance to prove me wrong. More importantly, he lost the chance to hold his daughter, Madisyn Grace, who would come into this world just two weeks later.  I lost my mom when I was 2 years old, so I could relate to the pain, at least more than most.  To this day, almost 15 years later, I still wish that Mark could have had the chance to hold his daughter, just once.

My dad told me that there will always be a hole in your heart, but it gets smaller over time.  It will always be there.  While he is right about that, I still think about Mark almost every time I go through an intersection, catch a road marker out of the corner of my eye, sit at a red light, or hear about an accident, even though his was definitely no accident.

Through his devoted wife, Melissa, The Mark Wandall Traffic Safety Act  has made a lasting “mark” on our roads.  I hope and pray that his life will save others, many others.  We can help save lives, too. So let’s all drive, as if our lives depended on it…because they do.