Portland International Raceway is more than a racetrack — it’s a place where people come together for the love of motion. After spending this year at tracks across the country, I’ve come to appreciate just how much PIR already offers and how much more it could become. With imagination, investment, and belief, PIR can transform into a world-class hub for racing, riding, mentorship, and innovation — a place that brings Portland together again. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
On Veterans Day 2025, we’re reminded that the American dream isn’t dead — it’s alive in the small few who still believe in service over self, duty over division, and sacrifice over comfort. These men and women show us what this country can be at its best, and call us to live up to the same higher ideals. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Twenty years ago, Instrument wasn’t inevitable — it was faith, stubborn belief, and courage disguised as optimism. I didn’t know it would become what it is today; I simply believed it could. That belief, paired with relentless effort and an unwillingness to compromise on integrity or ambition, turned a fragile beginning into a living legacy. And tonight isn’t about looking back to polish a trophy — it’s about honoring the privilege of watching something you once imagined grow beyond you, carried forward by new hands, new ideas, and a vision still bold enough to become more than any of us dreamed. Onward. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Portland Public Schools has committed $60 million to build the Center for Black Student Excellence — including a $16 million deal for one of the city’s most expensive office buildings. It’s a well-intentioned plan wrapped in terrible execution. If we truly want to help students, especially those long underserved, we must stop chasing optics and start demanding outcomes. Equity isn’t achieved through extravagance — it’s achieved through endurance. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Somewhere along the way, we broke the covenant that made America work. Capitalism was once the great equalizer — a ladder of effort, discipline, and reward. But greed has turned that ladder into a wall. If capitalism doesn’t remain accessible to the many, the only option left is socialism. The time has come to recalibrate — not to tear the system down, but to make it worthy of our belief again. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
With President Trump threatening to deploy military forces in Portland, the temptation is to fight louder, push harder, and make sure we’re seen. But that only feeds the spectacle. The smarter path is discipline: getting our name off his tongue, going heads down, and focusing on our people. Oregon’s strength won’t come from outrage — it will come from building a self-reliant state strong enough to weather the storm until the next election. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Major General Paul E. Lefebvre, “LB6”—was the finest leader I ever knew. He was a Marine’s Marine, tactically brilliant and deeply human. He led from the field, remembered the details of his Marines’ lives, and carried himself with calm, sharp kindness. His presence set the standard I’ve tried to live up to in every chapter of my life. This is my thank you to him, and a reflection on the invisible ways great leaders leave their mark. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
On a recent trip to Washington, D.C. with my boys, I was struck by how memorial after memorial seemed to hold the answers we’re still searching for today. From Jefferson’s call to liberty, to FDR’s reminder that we are bound together, to Dr. King’s dream of justice and courage—the wisdom isn’t hidden or lost. It’s all here, waiting for us to open our eyes and apply it with fresh understanding. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Charlie Kirk’s death is not just the loss of a man—it is the silencing of a voice that dared to enter the arena. Whether you agreed with him or not, his courage to keep showing up mattered. What America needs right now is not fewer voices, but more: voices willing to wrestle with hard ideas, to risk being wrong, to speak with both conviction and compassion. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
What people often see is confidence that looks effortless, even too quick. What they don’t see is the work behind it—the discipline of imagining the end state, tracing the steps backward, and running hundreds of scenarios until clarity emerges. By the time I speak, the conviction is real because the hours of unseen thought have already been done. That is the responsibility of leadership: to do the hard, quiet work so others can move forward with certainty. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
After fifteen months away from office life, I stepped back into a business I’ve long admired. What I discovered reminded me that leadership is not about control or command—it’s about energy, conviction, and belief in people. When we lead with heart, when we give with respect and transparency, skeptics become believers, and possibility turns into momentum. The principles of service still work, and they always will. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Violence like this doesn’t happen in a vacuum—it happens in the climate we all help create. We are the air each other breathes. Every word we speak, every posture we take, adds to the atmosphere we live in together. The question is simple: are we making it easier to breathe—or harder? This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
At many points in life, you will be alone. Not as punishment, but as truth. The greatest gift you can give yourself is learning to be at peace in your own presence—to master your thoughts, to steady your heart, to find strength in the stillness. Because when you no longer fear solitude, you stop waiting to be saved and start living with power, clarity, and calm. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
This past Tuesday, I was at the track getting acclimated to my Porsche GT4 RS Clubsport. This is not the kind of car you see on the street. There’s no interior, no bells and whistles, no conveniences to make the ride more comfortable. No stereo, no cupholders, not even door panels. Just a raw machine—engine, chassis, tires, steering wheel. A surgical instrument designed for one purpose only: to go fast, to compete, to live at the edge of what’s possible.It was my first time in the car, and the learning curve was steep. Everything about it demanded precision—the braking points, the turn-in, the weight transfer. I was humbled, but I could also feel myself adapting, improving, step by step. By the end of the day, I was proud of the progression. Stoked on the car. Happy to be in that seat, doing something I love.But that’s not really what this story is about.Sometime in the afternoon, over the loudspeakers, came an announcement: the track was hosting a Make-A-Wish event. A young boy was coming for a ride in a Lamborghini. A dream come true for almost any kid—to sit inside one of the most recognizable exotic cars in the world, hear the roar of its engine, feel the speed from the passenger seat. A young boy’s wish, fulfilled.The Lamborghini is beautiful, of course. All smooth leather, carbon fiber trim, and tech features designed to make the impossible accessible. But it’s still, at the end of the day, a street car. It has bluetooth and climate control. It’s made to dazzle as much as it is to drive.I had the chance to talk with the boy and his family before his ride. I asked if they’d like to come see something different—not a car built for the road, but one built for the track. A car stripped of every luxury, every unnecessary ounce, every distraction, so it can do only what it was meant to do: race.We walked over to the GT4 Clubsport. He stood there, wide-eyed, taking it all in—the roll cage, the fire system, the bucket seat, the massive slicks. It wasn’t polished or glamorous in the way the Lamborghini was. It was raw, exposed, unapologetically purposeful. And that’s exactly what made it special.He was stoked. So was I. I don’t think he or his family had ever seen up close what a true race machine really looks like. We chatted for a bit, shared a few smiles, and then they went on to enjoy their day.About 45 minutes later, I was strapped back into that very car, sitting at pit wall waiting for my next session. And there he was again—standing with his family along the fence. We made eye contact. His face lit up, and he raised his arm with a smile that said it all: Go fast. Please.So I did.But before I dropped the clutch, I sat there for a moment. Alone in that cockpit, helmet on, hands on the wheel, engine humming behind me. I gave thanks. Thanks for the day. Thanks for the car. Thanks for my life, for the fact that I get to do this. And most of all, thanks for that boy—for the gift of being placed in his path, even for just a brief encounter.Because it was clear: his life has not been simple. He has been dealt something complicated, something heavy, something no child should have to carry. And yet there he stood—radiant, full of joy, present in every sense. He didn’t wear his hardship like a burden. He wore it like light.That moment reached deeper into me than anything else I experienced that day. It reminded me, as it always does, that the greatest tragedy is not the cards we are dealt—it is living without cherishing them. It is forgetting how precious and fragile life really is.I don’t know where his road leads. None of us do. But I know this: he gave me a gift that day. A reminder that life is not measured in years or miles per hour, but in presence. In gratitude. In grace.So I drove for him. Every lap, every corner, every ounce of focus—I carried him with me. I don’t know if he felt the same, but I hope that moment was as meaningful for him as it was for me.We all get these moments. A wave from across a racetrack. A chance encounter on a trail. A small gesture from a stranger that shakes us awake to the truth: life is short, but it can also be deep. These aren’t interruptions to the “real” work of living. They are the work. They are what makes life full.That boy reminded me then. And now, I carry that reminder with me—not just to drive for him, but to live for him too.That boy reminded me that life is fragile, beautiful, and worth cherishing. His joy became a gift, one I carry with me still—not just to drive for him, but to live for him too. If this episode resonated, please share it with someone who might need the reminder. And if you haven’t already, make sure you’re subscribed on Substack, Spotify, or Apple Podcasts—wherever you listen and think.Until next time: be kind, be great, and work hard. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
One hundred posts. A body of work stitched together with the same thread: that life is not about drifting, but about choosing. Choosing to serve. Choosing to believe. Choosing to stand when it would be easier to fold. Choosing to live in a way that honors those who no longer have the chance. I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But I have never stopped believing in us—in our capacity to rise above cynicism, to build something together, to live lives that overflow with purpose. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Fairness in business isn’t a myth—it’s possible. But it requires partnership. Generosity only thrives when there’s space made for it, and respect has to travel both ways. Sometimes the very words we speak, or the posture we take, become the reason we don’t get the things we claim to want. Help Me, Help You is about ownership, generosity, and why keeping the door open to fairness matters more than we think. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Anyone can sneer, criticize, or burn things down—but it takes real courage to believe. To believe in people. To believe in the possibility of unity. To believe that love and service are still worth fighting for. That’s the rebellion that matters now—the one strong enough to endure. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
Oregon was once a place where innovation and opportunity thrived. Today, we face a choice: drift into managed decline or step deliberately into a future we define for ourselves. That means reconnecting political leaders with the people who actually build our economy, restoring capital confidence, rebranding our state, experimenting with bold tax pilots, and holding government accountable with real transparency. The path forward is clear — but only if we have the courage to take it. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
We often romanticize the idea of doing things the hard way when it comes to work ethic—grind, hustle, outwork everyone. But when it comes to ethics and values, we seem to forget. Fairness is hard. Transparency is hard. Choosing to believe in people is hard. But that’s also where the deepest strength lives. I’ve always believed that how you win matters. Not just for the outcome—but for your soul. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com
A few weeks ago, I was hiking with my kids. The mountains were holding their breath, the air warm and still. As we passed others on the trail, I caught myself doing what I’ve always done—meeting eyes, offering a smile, sharing a greeting. That day, I used it as a lesson for my boys: notice the way people meet you, not to judge, but to understand the power of acknowledgment. Some share it openly, others keep it inside. But when someone brings joy to the world in that moment, it’s worth thanking them for it. Because these small gestures are the stitches that hold us together. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit justinmlewis.substack.com