The first time I was asked about famous people in a wheelchair, I was hard pressed to come up with any names. That failure was mine, however, because some of the greatest dignitaries on the world stage live their lives in a wheelchair. I had simply never thought about it. I thought it might be fun to run through a partial list.
Franklin Delano
Roosevelt: FDR was
the 32nd President of the United States and arguably the most
important President of the twentieth century. He certainly was in office
longer than any other in our history. He was first elected in 1932
shortly after the Great Depression, and was then reelected three more times. He guided us through the greatest depression of our history, was
one of the three most prominent leaders of WWII on the winning side along with
Churchill and Stalin, and is responsible for the implementation of Social
Security. He contracted polio in 1921 and was paralyzed from the waist
down as a result. This, of course, didn’t stop him, and he became one of
the most prominent figures of the century.
Stephen Hawking: Hawking is one of the most famous and
revered physicists and mathematicians or our age, and he has been in a
wheelchair for the past forty years. He has defied numbers because he was
told he would not live to see his 23rd birthday. Hawking was
diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, which is a motor neuron
disease that results in the gradual and complete deteriorate of his
muscle. He can no longer sit up, hold his head up, or move his hands,,
but he sure can think. He wrote a best seller called “A Brief History
of Time,” which tried to explain his theories of time and physics without
using math.
Teddy Pendergrass, Sr.: Teddy was a drummer for the Cadillacs,
which later merged with Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes. He later became
the lead singer for the group jumping from the rear of the stage to become its
foremost figure. In 1982, Pendergrass severed his spine in an auto
accident and was paralyzed from the waist down. After numerous surgeries
and a lengthy rehab, he got back to the studio and recorded the album “Love
Language,” which included a duet with the then unknown Whitney Houston
.
Christopher
Reeves: Perhaps best known for
his role as Superman in four films, Reeves was an actor, producer, and
director. Reeves was paralyzed in 1995 after being thrown from a horse in
an equestrian event. He went on to lobby and raise funds for spinal cord
research and became Chairman of the American Paralysis Association and Vice
Chairman on the National Organization on Disability. He also continued
his career primarily as a director at the same time. He died at 52 from
cardiac arrest leaving behind the legacy of doing more than any other person to
raise awareness about persons with disabilities.
Itzhak Perlman: An Israeli-American, Perlman was one of
the most distinguished violinists and conductors of the twentieth
century. He contracted polio as a youngster but was able to walk for a
long time using crutches. He became wheelchair bound later in life but
continued his remarkable performances in the largest performing halls in the
world. Critics often say his remarkable skills were matched by the joy he
expressed in playing the violin.
Dwight Owens: Okay, so this one’s not so famous.
But like these giants before me, I am doing the best I can to make my life
count. I and hundreds of thousands like me live our lives as fully as
possible and embrace each day as a gift. And I don’t feel the least bit
disabled. I just do things a little more slowly than most people. I
think there are many more adventures for me in the future, and I look forward
to each of them.
If you live in a
wheelchair, you inevitably spend a lot of time thinking about your ‘best
friend.’ In fact, you may even begin to personify this hunk of metal with tires
that provides you with your full measure of mobility. For me, after long
experience and great thought, I have come to regard my wheelchair as my
partner. It is a substitute for my legs, a remarkable device that lets me
live fully and independently. Sometimes it can be a bit cranky, but it is
always reliable. Cranky like when the brakes don’t work properly or when
it starts to roll down an incline seemingly on purpose and with malice.
The bottom line is that I love my life, and I love my wheelchair because it
helps me live life so fully.
Many people look at me
and momentarily feel pity, perhaps because they envision themselves in the same
situation and wonder how they would cope. The truth is that most of them
would cope quite well. Yes, there are many issues to deal with. For
example, poor circulation, which can lead to many medical problems. But
this is manageable. What’s not manageable is being cooped up, unable to
get around on my own, and dependent on others for all transportation. It
turns out, I have none of those problems. My wheels and I can go
virtually anywhere. Perhaps not in the swimming pool, but otherwise there
are no limitations. I roll along at supermarkets, go to sporting events,
attend church, , and most importantly, I speak almost every week in front of a
groups of kids and adults. This satisfies my teaching impulse and leaves
the audience with a lasting memory. I hope it changes their lives for the
better in some small way.
All that said, there is
one group of people I must always watch out for. Kids in the 4-8 year-old
range. Many of them think my wheelchair is the coolest toy they’ve ever
seen. On more than one occasion when I was reaching for the Honey Nut
Cheerios in the food store, I have found myself rolling well in excess of any
rational speed limit impelled by some intrepid youngster laughing in
glee. I try to be on the lookout, but some of these kids are
clever. They eye me from a distance and make their move when I’ve averted
my gaze. It goes with the territory, and while there’s the chance of
crashing into canned peas or string beans, it’s always kind of fun.
The point of this blog
is that wheelchairs are a great gift to me and everybody who lives in
one. They provide mobility. They provide independence.
And above all, they give people with spinal cord injuries a great sense of
confidence. The truth is, there’s very little an able-bodied person can
do that I can’t. And given where I was at the moment of my accident, this
is a pretty good place to be.
Dwight R. Owens