Daniel "Dan" Scott Rider, a man whose sense of humor was as dependable as a classic rock anthem, has taken the checkered flag on life's race track.

Born under the Michigan winter's frosty spell on February 21, 1966, in Grand Rapids, Dan's journey circled back to where it began; he calmly turned off his engine and stepped out of the cockpit on January 20, 2025, in his beloved hometown, cheekily beating everyone to the finish line at the age of 58.

Dan never outgrew his fondness for the scent of motor oil and the thrill of a tight race at the Berlin Raceway. His hands were rarely clean, not from a lack of hygiene, but from constantly tinkering with anything that dared to claim it was "unfixable." The roar of a Nascar race was his preferred soundtrack, followed closely by the strumming guitars of classic rock and the twang of country music. Yet, amidst the riotous fun, Dan's heart beat in a tender rhythm, echoed in the laughter and joy of Uno nights with his grandkids.

Family was Dan's pit crew in the great race of life. Though he now waves the checkered flag with his father Gerald and brother David in the great beyond, his spirit is carried on through a revving engine of a clan. He's left behind his dedicated pit crew chief and mother, Linda, his trusty trackside siblings, Mark (with co-pilot Vicki) and Wendy (joined by navigator Manuel), and the next generation of Riders – his beloved children Danielle, Kaeleigh (co-driver Alston), Stephanie, Randy (supported by Bethany), and Derek. The legacy extends to a blossoming tree of grandchildren, featuring Nova, Aleigha, Ryleigh, Alston Jr., and a bustling band of other young racers as well.

Despite all of life's trials and tribulations, you'd never catch Dan without a grin wide enough to rival the grill of a '66 Mustang. He was loving in a way that warmed you up faster than a summer's day in the pits, selfless as a crew member giving up the last pork chop at a cookout, and funny in a way that made every day feel like an impromptu stand-up special. In the classic words of the immortal Rodney Dangerfield, "I tell ya, I get no respect – even the Christmas tree was trying to leave!" Dan could relate, but let's be real: he commanded every ounce of respect and so much more, even if he was the first to crack a self-deprecating joke. Those who knew Dan recognized his uncanny ability to dispense laughter as readily as a vending machine dishes out pull tabs at Branns – and with better odds of a reward. Whether it was playing solitaire like a card-carrying shark or flipping burgers with the precision of a pit crew chief, Dan did it all with a chuckle, a smile, and an unbeatable sense of timing.

As Dan cruises the great highway in the sky – no doubt picking the perfect classic tune on the celestial FM – his memory will be the grease that keeps our hearts running smoothly. Not one to ever leave a dull moment, he understood that life, like a good engine, was all about what you put into it. And goodness, did he put his all into ours. Decomplicated, deconstructed, but never defeated – Daniel Scott Rider lived a life worthy of a standing ovation and an endless encore. So spin those records, rev those engines, and play another hand of Uno in honor of a man who was, in essence, the embodiment of the perfect pit stop: a respite full of fuel, laughter, and love, offering the strength to keep racing, no matter the miles ahead.

Dan, you were truly one of a kind – a classic model of humanity with a never-ending warranty on love and laughter. May the stands always be full, and the laughter perpetual, as we celebrate the one and only Daniel Scott Rider.