Summer 1968

By the summer of 1968 I been disabled two years and is getting really acclimated to my new place in the world. I had been through rehabilitation, got my new wheelchair, return to school and basically to my life in general. Looking back it's kind of weird because I wasn't cursing and swearing every day I woke and found myself disabled. I didn't sit and weep about having no legs to walk with. I was never going to be a contender for state wrestling championships and out slowly figuring out that life just goes on and perhaps that is one of the biggest lessons I was going to learn about disability and life in general.

By 1968 America had slid deep into the Vietnam War without me. I think if I missed anything it was not be in part that party. I knew enough and the my friends were all fairly pacifist and I really was but I think I had some sort of survivor's guilt. I of course, in 1968 got my selective service hard I can't remember but I think it really was 1-A. I knew they were going to change that as soon as I showed up to the selective service board so I never went. Nothing ever happened to me either later on 1970 1971 to remember for sure that I happened to be downtown rolling around and I dropped into the federal building and decided to update my selective service status. They were quite amused. I told them I want to go. Somehow in my mind I figure that was kind of stupid not having it place for people disabilities who want to serve a way to serve after all, a person in a wheelchair can answer phones, sort mail, or all manners of things the able-bodied folks do that folks with disabilities can also. They politely showed me to the door. I think more than anything else I just want to be part of something. The worst part of my disability I think was the exclusion from everything.

By the summer of 1968 my parents and found Easter Seals and more specifically Camp Easter Seals. I think I've written briefly about the camp before. The week long stay at an incredibly beautiful camp on the shores of Lake Coeur d'Alene in northern Idaho. Easter Seals would actually fly a group of us from around the state to this camp we thought for us—but looking back now as an adult this time was a respite for the families who had to live with their kids with disabilities. The place is gone of course now that's a shame there was a respite for everyone.

What I remember most of 1968 was one of my brother's army fatigue shirt. Olive drab garment that was much too big for me. The shirt at my brother's name are actually just last name so it could've been my name and could've been my shirt. I took the shirt at the sleeves off and begin wearing it with nothing underneath with the front open everywhere I went that I could get away with. I called my flak jacket. By the middle of the summer I was always super tan and I think I actually really good. If anyone ever asked about why were the jacket I'd sometimes make a story up about I was my jacket from Vietnam. I so much one to identify with the military. I wore that “flak jacket” all summer and the next summer to let totally wore out. By then I was involved in peace marches and rallies their in Boise. The FBI even have images taken of me during that time. The most important thing of that Was the fact that I had slid back into my regular life perhaps a bit more credible than the average 17-year-old. I was a minor celebrity – – the boy who survived spinal cord injury. I figured out just a regular Joe, I didn't think I was different from anybody else at least on the surface but deep down I think I was… Kind of special.