Hi everyone. I’m Alex, son of Kihurani, whom some of you may have met around the hillclimb over the years. I just wanted to say a few (or rather many!) words to everyone in the community who have also had to experience tragedy, trauma, and loss after last weekend’s events.

My dad moved to Berks county from Kenya in 1977 as a massive motorsports fan. He always had dreams of competing in the Safari Rally one day, but never had enough money to compete back in his home country. Upon arrival in the US, he immediately joined the BMR region of the SCCA. He purchased his first car, a Fiat that had notoriety as a Safari Rally-winning model, and became a regular at KAM Specialties in Shillington, the only shop with parts for a Fiat with owners as enthusiastic about Fiats as him. He began working rallies with the Sekella and Kennedy family, auto crossing, and doing TSD rally events whenever he could while also attending the Duryea Hillclimb every year.

After having my sister and then me, he went on to build his first proper race car, a Dodge Colt (pictured). Like my dad, I was obsessed with racing from the first rally video we watched together when I was a toddler. Throughout my childhood, my friends and I would hike up to the Pagoda, to “Oh Shit”, to the airplane field, to catch a glimpse of the cars and my father. He would eventually sell his two Dodge Colts, but we still managed to compete together at the Duryea Hillclimb in a rented car soon after I got my driver’s license.

He was a dedicated Mitsubishi guy, so our garage was always a bit of a scrap yard of Mitsubishi/DSM parts and his dream car was always the Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. After he finally realised his other dream of running his own successful business (which he wasn’t able to start until he was 50), he took his newly gained earnings and finally bought his Evo. He got it prepared properly by one of my rally friends, and we began competing regularly at the hillclimb together.

Eventually, my rallying career got more and more serious, and I decided to move to the UK to pursue my dream of being a professional co-driver in the World Rally Championship. My dad decided to sell the EVO at that point, but a couple years later with his business doing better, he decided he wanted it back. Fortunately, the car stayed within the rallying community and we were able to track it down. It was the car he always dreamed of having, an EVO but with over 500hp and anti-lag popping and spitting flames. His emotional connection to the car was unparalleled.

We FaceTimed on his birthday, Monday, August 14 2023 and talked about the hillclimb coming this weekend and how he could follow us with the live TV coverage of my rally in Czech Republic. My 1 year old daughter, Ziana, then gave him all the biggest smiles as she always loved his calm, warm voice.

On Saturday August 19, 2023, over 4,000 miles apart, we both suited up and strapped on our helmets to do what we loved most, with me competing in the European Rally Championship in Czech Republic, and my dad looking forward to his 66th birthday treat of racing in the Duryea Hillclimb.

Being 6 hours ahead, it was my turn first. Unfortunately we had a string of technical issues that dashed our chances for a win. My driver, Chris Ingram, decided to retire, saying he wasn’t up for forcing his driving after he was out of the fight..that it wasn’t worth the money or the risk to the car or ourselves at this particularly dangerous event to continue. It was truly a blessing in the broader context of the weekend.

While fast asleep in the hotel, I received an unexpected call from my sister sobbing on the other end of the phone, saying Dad had passed away at the hillclimb after losing control and hitting a tree. All I could do was pace and hyperventilate in absolute disbelief.

I woke up my driver, Chris Ingram, who gave me the biggest embrace and immediately and unquestionably drove me through the night to Vienna to get the first flight back to London.

By the time I boarded my flight, the shock and devastation gradually became overshadowed by feelings of love, gratitude, and appreciation for the support and care of the racing/rallying community around us, the joyous life he lived, and the incredible relationship and experiences the two of us had together, especially in the last year. While not related to the hillclimb, I wanted to share some of them with you..

In June 2022, I finally got to compete in the legendary Safari Rally as it was brought back to the World Rally Championship. While my dad always lived for himself, and always wanted to do the Safari Rally himself, for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to live vicariously through his kids. The whole week, he kept saying to me, “being here, seeing you compete here, it makes me feel like I’m actually doing the Safari Rally myself,” as he enthusiastically played local coordinator for us, helping us work through the unique practical challenges of racing in Africa seamlessly.

On Father’s Day the Sunday before the rally, he was mentioned in the front page of the sports section of Kenya’s national paper with me, and my heritage, in the headline. Also for the first time, he was thrilled to jump into the passenger seat of the rally car (which he always said he would hate to do) during our test as my driver, Sean Johnston, showed him how to slide through the Safari Rally roads. You couldn’t wipe the smile, or the proud-dad look on his face, for the entire week of the event.

And for me, just driving over the start ramp at the ceremonial start, flagged off on our way by President Kenyatta himself, I felt the weight lifted of this multi-generational, multi-continental struggle to go from Kenya, to America, to the UK and back to Kenya just to make it to the start of this very special event finally..once and for all. My dad started the dream, but some dreams take more than just one generation to accomplish. I was a stream of tears all the way through Nairobi to the first stage.

For anyone here who knew my father over the years, he was, while warm and compassionate, always a bit shy, fairly private, and never very outgoing. He never quite saw the point of just hanging out for a chat, and never quite understood the value of being proactive about relationships. He stuck to his family and to people who shared his passion for motorsport. The members of the racing community ended up becoming his lifelong friends.

However, over the past year, I started really noticing a change. From the time my daughter was born in August 2022, 3 months premature, he made every effort to support us, to be there for us, and to proactively check in with us, just to see how we were doing as a family. He’d encourage us to do anything together as much as we could, even if it has nothing to do with racing. My sister, my partner, and I all took advantage of it, and over the past year, our relationship was the best it ever was. He spent time with all three of his grandkids (all 2 and under), made the effort to get to know all his in-laws (including a Christmas trip to London), and took me to reconnect with my family back in Kenya. This included taking me through the family homestead in Karatina, which he directed renovations and restoration himself on behalf of all 11 of his siblings.

My father was a true role model that, no matter what age you are, you can always grow as a human being. You’re never too old to start a business. You’re never too grown up to pursue your passions. At an age when many people begin to withdraw from life, he was more engaged than ever. Living is what kept him young, and he always strived for excitement, adventure, improvement, and wisdom throughout the entirety of life. Even at 66 years old, his presence was that of a young man, and somewhat fittingly, he passed away tragically like a young a man.

While tragic for us, there’s beauty knowing that he could go quickly and painlessly while he was experiencing the most joy, surrounded by the people who knew him and cared about him for decades, on the hill where his racing dreams finally came to fruition. He really lived the entirety of his life, all the way up to the very last moment, and hopefully, he’s still at the top of 6th gear on the other side
Apologies for the extremely lengthy post, but I know when something like this happens, it can leave everyone wondering what the point of risking our lives is for something that should just be a bit of fun. It can seem senseless, pointless, or even wasteful. But after getting through this, I hope you can all understand how much this car, how much this hill, how much this sport meant to us as a father and son who shared a passion and were lucky enough to experience the most incredible relationship because of it.

Thank you all,
Alex