The need for speed
Quadriplegic race car driver from Connecticut works to ensure others can race
Torsten Gross is, by his own admission, a speed demon. “I was that kid that when people got into the car with me they knew what to expect,” the 46year-old Sharon man said. “We were always going to go fast enough that something was going to be at stake. Pushing the limits has always been in my blood.”
Then, at 15, his life literally stopped. He dove into the ocean, broke his neck, was clinically dead for 21⁄2 minutes before being revived. As a self described C6 quadriplegic, he can move his arms, including his wrists, but has little to no use of his fingers and no use of his legs.
Another person would have given up, consigning themselves to a life of limitations. Not Gross. Today, the 46-year-old is a race car driver who in 2023 competed in National Auto Sport Association (NASA) Time Trials, and International GT and World Racing League events. He is also a certified rescue scuba diver and he raced in 12 marathons in 12 months using a hand cycle in 2016, according to his website.
Now the marketing executive and motivational speaker wants to help others in wheelchairs experience the freedom that comes from racing using hand controls. In 2021 he started the Just Hands Foundation, a nonprofit that helps people in wheelchairs enjoy the thrill of
the race track. The foundation, which helped 20 people get behind the wheel in its first year, already has a four-year waiting list. It offers people driving opportunities in Belgium, Germany, and on Gross’s home track, Lime Rock Park in Norfolk, where he is a member of the Lime Rock Drivers Club. Just Hands sponsors include national companies like Pennzoil and Connecticut businesses like Lime Rock and the Hoffman Auto Group.
The rides are free to participants, although each experience costs the foundation about $1600 a day, per person. Gross is frank about why he doesn’t want participants to need to pay.
People in wheelchairs already have what he calls a “disability tax.” “If an able-bodied person wants to run a marathon, they buy an $80 pair of shoes, train and go,” he said. “A person in a chair has to buy a $2,000 hand-cycle.” That reality is true for everything from basketball — basketball chairs can run from $1,000 to
more than $4,000 — to cars. “Everything we do, we need more money to do it,” he said, noting that in motorsports handcontrolled cars modifications can cost $1,500$3,000.
Gross remembers the first time he got behind the wheel of a car at Lime Rock, a gift from his wife. His instructor, Gross recalled, basically ignored his wheelchair and his hand controls (he used his own Audi, which was already appropriately outfitted). “He just said, ‘Here’s what we’re going to do,’” Gross said. “I loved that. In almost every situation in my life, my chair is part of the conversation. In this case it wasn’t. There’s something freeing about that, where the biggest thing in your life doesn’t need to be front and center.”
Gross has experienced that inclusivity throughout the racing and driving community. The World Racing League races, for instance, feature a team of drivers racing in eighthour races, a driving relay of sorts. The league allowed Gross’s team one
additional person to help him get over the wall to the car in the pit getting serviced during the driver switchover. “Getting in and out is about speed,” he said. “We had to practice getting me in and out. Overall, the racing community is very inclusive. We are all in this sport because we love it and that means helping other people.”
His experience with the driving community is a direct contrast to his experience trying to get his rescue scuba diving certification. Gross wanted the certification so that he could easily dive with
his wife and friends. He was rejected by six diving shops before the seventh finally agreed to give him a shot. “I plopped down $3,000 on the counter and asked the owner to give me the chance to fail,” he said. “My ask was to judge me on the outcome, not how I do it. That’s how I live my life.”
Part of Gross’s drive and focus comes from his perspective. “Everybody has a wheelchair. Mine is just visible. If you have depression or Tourette’s, you can’t explain it to everyone,” he said. “Everybody has that thing that holds them back.
Your biggest weakness is your biggest strength. Everybody says I’m inspirational. I want to be motivational.”
People can learn more about Gross’s racing journey and what Just Hands is accomplishing in a new streaming series that will begin airing sometime this spring. Called “Just Hands: For the Love of Driving,” the first episode of the series will be screened in a foundation fundraising event on March 30 from 6-9 p.m. at Lime Rock Park. The event includes food, an auction and a chance to try virtual reality driving.