Steve Waid: The NASCAR Journalist We All Aspired to Be

The last text I got from Steve Waid in the hospital will haunt me in the weeks and months to come.

“I will be fine,” Waid said to the concerns I had about his health. “Little changes. Think I can file Monday if I am out of here.”

The fact Waid was fighting for his life and yet still looking to file a story for Frontstretch is all you need to know about my friend who died two Mondays later (June 15) at the age of 77. Steve was one of the best to ever put pen to paper in NASCAR journalism, winning seemingly every award known to man and earning the respect of anyone who ever meant something in this sport.

But he still always felt there was something important left to say. And oh, how heartbreaking it is for all of us here at Frontstretch that so much will still be left unsaid.

You may not be familiar with Waid, who came from a generation where the stories — not the journalist — were the center of attention. From the time he set foot in a media center, first with the Martinsville Bulletin in the early 1970s, Waid became the gold standard of NASCAR reporting. Along with Tom Higgins of the Charlotte Observer, they were a 1-2 punch of inside information, a must read for anyone who wanted to understand all aspects of the sport.

It’s hard to name the friends Waid had in the NASCAR garage because the list is really a copout multiple choice answer: all of the above. From Alan Kulwicki to Tim Richmond to Dale Earnhardt to the Pettys, he became the storyteller for an entire generation of racers. Waid earned the trust of stock car racing’s famous people and covered them honestly and fairly, weaving together tales of tragedies and triumphs with a level of inside information almost impossible to get in today’s world.

Waid did it in a way that we’re missing in 2026: by going deeper, drivers allowing him to have the conversations and tell the story with the expertise of a journalism background rather than on their own podcast or in a 280-character tweet. And even when Waid ripped them a new one, critical of something on or off the track, they’d still find a way to hash it out and stay friendly, maintaining a healthy balance between writer and subject.

Where Waid made his mark was where I first learned of him growing up, as editor of the NASCAR Scene and NASCAR Illustrated magazines. I still have some old collections in my office from when I was a kid, mesmerized by every word in the mid-2000s. Some of the great reporters you see on the beat today worked under Waid at the Scene: Bob Pockrass. Jeff Gluck. Deb Williams. Waid’s now former The Scene Vault podcast co-host, Rick Houston. He made that magazine a classroom through which his pupils graduated into rock stars; they were journalists willing to listen, and Waid was always willing to teach.

By the time this legend retired in 2010, he’d racked up a trophy room full of awards and added the prestigious Squier-Hall NASCAR Hall of Fame honor in 2019. Waid served as National Motorsports Press Association President for 12 years and mentored half the people that were in those meetings. The man walked on water when it came to this profession.

So, to have him pick Frontstretch to moonlight, in his retirement, was an honor I’ll carry with me the rest of my life. I laughed when I looked back at his first email to me in 2020: “Just want to know if you would be interested in a NASCAR weekly column, on present issues and past, from a grizzled NASCAR motorsports veteran writer. Just curious and do thank you for your time.”

Those two sentences say so much about Steve, armed with a humility you never see in journalism anymore. He always acted like a 22-year-old just trying to make it in the business, a motorsports Tom Brady acting like HE had to prove to YOU he was worth keeping around. I did everything I could to roll the red carpet out for him from that day forward, but Waid was doing it for US, again and again. Every editor he worked with at Frontstretch had a tremendous experience and learned (there’s that word again) how to be better in today’s tough media environment.

For the past six years, Waid’s posted nearly 100 columns about his NASCAR past (and some on the present) at Frontstretch. I encourage anyone interested to browse his archive filled with tidbits about everyone from the sport’s glory days: Junior Johnson to Ricky Rudd. You’ll see why he won all those awards.

But my best memories of Steve have come in the past few years, sparked when I reached out to him about some trouble Frontstretch was having with NASCAR. A long phone convo organically became a mentorship which lasted quietly and consistently, phone calls of support, advice and understanding. To have someone of Waid’s caliber willing to help at a moment’s notice was a debt I could never repay in 100 lifetimes.

With those conversations came war stories. And oh, did Waid have plenty of those. We’d laugh about the many scrapes he got in with people that didn’t like his stuff, and NASCAR or PR officials that would try and push back. But the final chapters of each scuffle had a common trend: a happy ending where Waid was able to get the outcome he deserved.

To have someone of Waid’s caliber back up your methods, your philosophy and to reassure me I was doing things the right way … I needed that mentorship when it happened. I wish I could tell him how much it meant to me.

This year, life got busy for me. A full-time job in IndyCar and the growing demands of Frontstretch and life left me putting off a call. Waid and I wanted to do something with the current NMPA President, Holly Cain, and chat amongst the three of us about ways we could reinvigorate the organization while continuing to elevate Frontstretch. I thought we had all the time in the world.

Please, if you’re in that same situation with someone … make the time. Just find it. Turns out the sand runs out in the hourglass even for people we think walk on water. Make the most of the mentors when you have them around.

I’m saddened for Waid’s wife Margaret, his two children and so many for whom this will be an immeasurable loss. My thoughts and prayers are with them.

Turns out Waid did file this Monday night; we just can’t read it anymore. Boy, have Kulwicki, Earnhardt and Davey Allison been eagerly anticipating the return of those stories.

Godspeed, Steve.