Dan Runte…How Do We Thank You, And Say Goodbye?

It was current AEW pro wrestler Jeff Jarrett who once said, “In this business, you have a lot of acquaintances, but very few friends.”  Maybe that’s true in many other aspects in life.  We all have acquaintances in our everyday lives, whether it be at our jobs, at local gatherings or events, social media, or even within our own families.

Everyone’s true circle of friends can be either really large, with many in it, or small consisting of just a few who truly are there.

When one’s job is constantly on the road, some of those acquaintances become friends, and even family, after being around them for so long.  They become trusting, reliable, honorable, and earn the respect of their peers.

In the monster truck industry, being on the road a majority of the year, one meets a lot of folks, but once in a while, one person can truly say they are a friend to practically everyone in the industry.

For many of us, including myself, that man is Dan Runte.

Fans of today only recognize him as a past driver of Bigfoot, and Vice President of Operations.  Today’s fans that only know the current product, they never got to see what he could do in the seat of one of these trucks.

There’s many reasons he was coined Dan “The Man,” but it goes beyond his time at the wheel.

Here’s an individual that no matter how tough of a show he may experience, made sure that at night’s end, the people were what mattered.  He didn’t push the equipment harder than it could handle, even with the accolades he can say are on his stat sheet.

It’s why we all recognize his catchphrase, “It’s all about the t-shirts.”

Someone that has jumped a 727 passenger plane, his own hauler, set speed records, and won championship after championship, was only worried about the people that paid a ticket to see him perform.  It wasn’t about what he accomplished, it’s about those people in the stands.

Yet, when those fans have long gone, and the show is over, that ideology never changed.

A selfless man, that gave time to everyone in the pits, and constantly working hard to not only improve himself, but everyone around him.  He became a teacher of how to be someone that every individual could look up to.  He is the gold-standard for what it means to be in this industry.

There’s very few people in this business that over the years, recognize you for multiple reasons.  They start as fans, then become followers, and soon are family because the industry takes a back seat in conversations.  Instead it’s about life, experiences, and advice to be a better individual.

Dan is one of those individuals.

As a media member, a non-written yet very observed rule is to keep personal feelings out of a lot of pieces, so the readers are not swayed one way or another based on opinion.  It’s about letting them make their own choices based on what is presented to them.  Having one’s opinion showcase through words on a computer can easily get twisted and made into something it’s not, and ruin an image or career in an instant, especially in this era of social media.

Those rules go out the window when it’s honoring someone who made an impact.

Runte is someone I first met in the early 1990’s, as a driver and me, as a young fan just feeling like I just met a real-life Bruce Wayne, who suddenly became Batman when the driver suit went on.  As the years progressed, something happened.  I became more involved in the industry, understanding the business side just as much as the performance side, and almost yearly, Runte was a face I saw at one show per season.

By the early 2010’s, Runte knew me on a first-name basis, even having me jump in and assist after a rough night in Indianapolis.

The race between he and then-Rammunition driver, Mat Dishman, resulted in him winning the bracket, but in doing so the two trucks collided tires, with Runte taking the worst of it in a barrel roll that flattened a tire, bent the flag, and broke the sway bar.  The body was torn up a bit, but was not in that bad of shape.  The team went hard at it that night to fix the chassis, opting to wait until morning to complete the minor details.

When the sun rose amongst the clouds, the team was trying to get the Super Duty body repaired and it was only he and one other doing the job, while Predator driver, Allen Pezo, was doing some roll cage repair.  At that point, I put my camera down, and told Dan, “Let me help a bit,” and he gladly obliged by having me help zip tie the side together after he drilled the holes to let the ties go through.

He told me he appreciated the help, ultimately making the show, and winning both the racing bracket, and the championship that afternoon.

In 2019, he was the headline inductee into the Monster Truck Hall of Fame, surrounded by peers he both competed against, and worked with.  He made time with everyone, including me, shaking my hand and giving appreciation for the artwork and the respect over the years.

The Q&A session that year, my question to the panel was asking what moment made you truly appreciate your career.  Runte didn’t hesitate, because it wasn’t setting world records, nor winning championships.  His moment was being able to fly across the world, while one of their trucks was being shipped across the ocean, and perform in front of the U.S. troops in Kuwait as part of Summit Racing’s “Operation Appreciation.”

It was never about him, and he didn’t want it to be about him; it was about the people that made him the icon that he is.

This year, with Bigfoot’s 50th Anniversary, the yearly open house at the Pacific, Missouri, headquarters would see the public debut of the newest truck in the fleet, Bigfoot #24.

No one had seen the body when the truck was driven onto the performance area, as the large tarp covered the truck except for the windows and windshield.  When the truck was ready for it’s first performance, it was revealed that the driver that would be behind the wheel would be none other than Runte himself.  The tarp came off, revealing a black-and-blue body with gold highlights, honoring many of the popular paint schemes the truck wore over the years.

During the break between old-school performances, I had the opportunity to catch Runte once more.  Having been to the Open House for the first time a year earlier, he recognized me and said, “I’ve been wondering when you were gonna get your butt out here.”  That laugh was infectious, and undeniable.

A year later, I had the honor of handing Runte a concept Bigfoot artwork, using his chassis that he used for so many years, but with a look that never made it onto the actual track, but instead on the street.

He looked at it, saying that all the ones I’ve done over the years have been superb, and methodical in deciding what to do with them.

When he asked if I wanted it autographed, I said no, because it is signed for you and the team.  He just was speechless, something that happened every now and then.  I said to him this is my thank you for you, and everyone with this industry.

His response to me was, “No, I want to thank you.  I appreciate all you’ve done, and it’s great seeing you.”

I never knew that those words, and that day, would be a finale.

The emotions of hearing the news that Runte was no longer with us, indescribable.  His accomplishments aside, it felt as though a family member had been snatched away from me.  Even writing these words, it doesn’t feel real; it can’t be real, and yet reality has set in that it is.

We may never know when our time is up, but when it is, often there is a reason that our time arrives.  It could be health, it could be age, or in this case, an accident.

I don’t want to think about life without seeing that smile, laugh, and driven set of eyes.  Even after stepping out of the truck full-time, that drive still remained, just shifted into ensuring that Bigfoot remained the best at what they did for the fans.  All of a sudden, he’s no longer here, and many of us are left asking questions like, “Why now?  Why him?  Why are you not here?”

We may never know those answers, and maybe it’s better that way.

The only thing I, and many, can do is live on the same way he did.  Live hard, but be humble.  Remember those who got you to where you are now.  The monster truck industry will move forward, because there’s always another show, another race, and another freestyle to perform.  But, at the same time, never forget the ones who paved the way to that point.

Dan, you have the best seat you could ask for.  I’m sure Bachmann is sitting there right beside you, and you’re listening to every word he’s saying, probably smiling as much as him.

Hopefully the fleet of drivers you got to see take the wheel in recent years will continue to honor you the only way they know how:  making the fans happy.

After all, as you said many times, “It’s all about the t-shirts.”  Farewell, my friend.  Here’s to you.