By the Dashboard Lights
by Dave Friedli
One of Our Own
When Joe*(not his real name) was two years old, the car he, his
brother and mother were driving in was hit by a drunk driver.
Joe's mother and brother were killed. Joe survived.
But Joe's life would be forever changed. In the crash, Joe's spine
was damaged, and he would never walk again.
In fact, Joe's spinal injury was so close to the brain, he would
require a ventilator to assist him with every breath, every day.
A wheelchair would be his mode of mobility. His condition requires
a nursing aide to be with him, every minute, 24-hours a day.
Joe might be disabled, but he is not handicapped.
A bright
student, Joe graduated in 1999 from one of
high schools. With the assistance of nurse aides who took notes and
turned pages in books, Joe found success in school and developed an
interest in Computer Science, which led him to the University of
In his first week of college, Joe found a more welcoming environment
than the one he experienced in high school. Many of the students
there were, in the words of his aide, "not very kind to Joe."
If Joe's $20,000 wheel chair were a $20,000 sports car or sports
utility vehicle, there is little doubt more members of his class
would have wanted to spend time with him.
If Joe's ever-present ventilation machine, providing a consistent
14-breaths per minute, were a soda dispenser, more young people would
have invited him to be part of their social life.
As it was, Joe learned how to get along by himself--in the presence
of his nurse aide, of course--finding ways to play video games with
the pointer joystick he holds in his mouth, alone.
If his high school classmates wanted to lose, they could have
challenged Joe to a game on his Sony PlayStation. He is a video game
wizard.
But few ever challenged Joe to a game. Few took the time to talk to
their high school classmate. If they had, they would have found Joe
to be a huge football fan, and an avid Cornhusker booster.
In today's world, people compare spinal injuries to that of actor
Christopher Reeves. Joe's injury was higher on the spine and more
severe. Joe will not walk again. He will not move his hands.
But he is a college student, and with his dedication, will one day
work productively, programming or troubleshooting computers.
The immediate goal for Joe is to be successful in college. The
post-secondary environment is more challenging, but also has more
access for disabled students. Disabilities are more common in a
student body of over 20,000.
And human kindness might be more common on campus, too.
In his first week of classes, Joe was in University Studies 1010, a
Freshman-level class intended to help first-year students adjust to
college life and build community among new students.
"I want you to read the story, and discuss it with a partner,"
instructed the professor.
Joe and his nurse aide had been through this type of situation
before. "It usually means we would be looking for a partner, taking
whoever was left over," explained his nurse aide, Cindi, who has been
with Joe for three years.
This day, things happened differently. A tall, good-looking young
man approached Joe. "Hi. My name is Tom. Do you want to work
together?"
For the next 15 minutes, Tom and Joe worked together on the
assignment. Task completed, they went their separate ways. But most
days, Tom greets Joe in class, is always quick with a smile,
acknowledging Joe as a person of worth.
"Not too many people want to work with a quadriplegic," said Cindi.
"In fact it never--I mean it ALMOST NEVER--happens. So I asked Tom
where he was from."
"
A person
expects a
Sailors--an athlete, a honor student and a leader--to do the
unexpected, the extraordinary and the unheralded. Looking past the
exterior is a mark of maturity and character.
It is the character within him we saw demonstrated in high school
and in the community, and take pride in watching.
And we are proud to call Tom Sailors one of our own.