Ray Hartmann, a fixture of St. Louis journalism for nearly four decades, was killed Thursday afternoon when two tires flew off a tractor-trailer on Interstate 64 and struck his vehicle. He was 73.
Hartmann was driving eastbound on I-64 near the I-270 interchange in St. Louis around 2 p.m. when the tires went airborne and hit the roof of his car, the New York Post reported, citing KMOV's account based on information from the Missouri State Highway Patrol.
His longtime friend and attorney, Andy Leonard, confirmed the death and described the impact in stark terms.
"The news covered the accident last night, and I can confirm that Ray was in his car when a tire crashed through his windshield. We believe that he died at the scene."
The investigation into the fatal crash remains ongoing. Authorities have not publicly identified the driver of the tractor-trailer or disclosed what caused the tires to separate from the rig. No information about the make or model of Hartmann's vehicle has been released.
Hartmann was not a peripheral figure in St. Louis public life. He founded both the Riverfront Times and St. Louis Magazine, two publications that shaped the city's media landscape for decades. In 1987, he co-founded "Donnybrook," the long-running debate program on Nine PBS, and spent nearly four decades as one of its central voices.
Fellow panelist Alvin Reid said Hartmann brought intensity and purpose to every broadcast.
"Ray was determined to make a difference in St. Louis. He wanted to make a difference on every show."
Reid added that the loss had not fully registered. "I really do feel like I'm talking about Ray in the present. I can't believe I'm talking about Ray in the past. That hasn't really hit me yet," he said. He pledged that Hartmann's presence would endure on the program: "As long as we do this show, Ray will be a part of this show and a part of St. Louis."
Journalists covering dangerous and unpredictable situations is a reality of the profession, as illustrated by the recent kidnapping of American journalist Shelly Kittleson in Iraq. But Hartmann's death was not the product of a war zone or political violence. It was a Thursday afternoon commute on a Missouri highway.
In 2024, Hartmann stepped away from media to run for Congress in Missouri's 2nd District. He won the Democratic primary but lost to incumbent Ann Wagner in the general election, 5 On Your Side reported. The race marked a late-career pivot for a man who had spent decades asking questions of politicians rather than standing as one.
Charlie Brennan, a longtime friend and fellow "Donnybrook" host, said Hartmann still had unfinished work ahead of him.
"I think he had books to write, columns to write, causes to champion, and I'm very sorry that he's not going to be around to get to those."
"His departure was too soon," Brennan said.
Hartmann is survived by his wife, Kerri Hartmann, and two children. Kerri Hartmann gave a statement to 5 On Your Side expressing the family's grief.
"It's such a tragic loss. He was dearly loved. We're going to miss him so much."
The circumstances of the crash raise questions that the ongoing investigation will need to address. What caused two tires to separate from a tractor-trailer at highway speed? Was the rig properly maintained and inspected? Who was operating it, and under what authority? None of these details have been made public.
Sudden, violent incidents that upend ordinary life have a way of demanding accountability, whether the setting is a family home in Texas or a busy interstate in Missouri. The public deserves answers about how a routine drive turned fatal.
Tire-separation crashes involving commercial trucks are not unheard of, but they are preventable. Federal regulations require regular inspection of commercial vehicles. When those standards are met, tires do not fly off rigs at highway speed and kill passing motorists. When they are not met, someone bears responsibility.
Hartmann spent decades holding institutions accountable through journalism. The shocking events surrounding public figures and media professionals remind us that those who chronicle public life are not exempt from its dangers.
The Missouri State Highway Patrol has not announced charges or identified the tractor-trailer's operator. Whether this crash resulted from negligence, mechanical failure, or some other cause remains an open question, one that investigators owe not just to the Hartmann family, but to every driver sharing the road with heavy commercial rigs.
Journalists who have faced threats and mortal danger around the world, including those targeted by authoritarian regimes, know the risks that come with the profession. Hartmann's death carried no such political dimension. It was random, mechanical, and final.
Whatever one thought of Hartmann's politics, and he wore them openly enough to put his name on a ballot, his footprint on St. Louis media is not in dispute. He built publications. He built a television institution. He ran for office in his seventies. He was driving home on a Thursday afternoon.
Reid's words capture the disbelief his colleagues are processing: "I'm already missing him."
A man who spent a career asking hard questions deserves hard questions asked on his behalf. The investigation should deliver them.
