Spa-Francorchamps, where this accident happened, is one of the world's greatest, most historic, fastest, most challenging and, yes, most dangerous race tracks. To a man, the drivers look forward to races there more than those at a mere handful of circuits around the world. But they don't do it lightly. They do it in full awareness of the risks they are taking.
Saturday night, over dinner with friends and colleagues, the 20 F1 drivers will contemplate the loss of a man who some of them knew, some of them had raced against, and of whom some were only aware as someone who could very well one day soon be one of them.
On Sunday, they will wake up and drive into Spa, and go about their usual pre-race preparations. They will do it with seriousness, sobriety, and an iron determination to carry on with business as usual.
Then, at 3.10pm local time, they will watch five red lights come on one by one and then go out, and within a few seconds they will be racing nose to tail and perhaps even side by side at close to 200mph over the exact spot where, less than 24 hours earlier, a colleague paid the ultimate price.
The sport they love brings them incredible highs and, as on Saturday, awful lows. The combination of all that is - whatever one may think of it - what makes it so thrillingly, awfully, terribly, tragically, special.
They are truly not as other men.