I heard him coming down the hall and glanced at my clock. Yep, 7:30. Hefty was out for his evening constitutional. The first floor of my dorm, McClain Hall, was designated for handicapped students. It was on ground level, so no renovation was needed in order to accommodate wheelchairs. Elevator retrofits were still decades away.
I’m AB – able bodied. More than half of us on the first floor were. School demographics at the time did not include a large segment of handicapped students, so we easily made up the majority, even on a “handicap floor.”
Hefty was a big fellow – thus his nickname – and suffered from a neuromuscular disease which would likely kill him some day. Normally he used a motorized wheelchair to get about, but once a day, out of sheer determination, he donned arm crutches and took a stroll down the corridor of the residence hall.
Swish, thump, clack. Swish, thump, clack.
The familiar rhythm was somehow reassuring. If Hefty could get out and walk in his condition, then my simple challenge in the form of Trigonometry was certainly insignificant.
Swish, thump, clack. Swish, thump, clack.
Still, I listened with some apprehension. Despite his determination, which was an inspiration to us all, we all worried slightly about Hefty.
Swish, thump, clack.
He was top heavy, and his sense of balance was not exactly keen.
Swish, thump, clack. Swish, thump, clack. Thud!
The call went up, “Hefty fell!”
A half a dozen of us rushed into the hall.
“I’m all right,” came the reassuring response.
This was not an uncommon scenario, Hefty falling like a post, the call of “Hefty fell!” always followed by, “I’m all right.” We dreaded the day that reply may not come.
“Why do you do this?” I asked him as three of us got him into an upright, if somewhat unsteady, position. Vic Smith handed him back his crutches.
Hefty slid his arms into the cuffs of the crutches and looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Because,” he said, “It makes me feel alive.” We stepped aside as he squared, then threw his weight forward.
Swish, thump, clack.
