• Christopher Reeve: 1952-2004: Superman Christopher Reeve: 1952-2004: Superman From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch – October , 2003 The first thing you noticed about Christopher Reeve was the sound of his labored breathing. There was the wheelchair, of course. But
• Christopher Reeve: 1952-2004: Superman
Christopher Reeve: 1952-2004: Superman
From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch – October , 2003
The first thing you noticed about Christopher Reeve was the sound of his labored breathing. There was the wheelchair, of course. But it was the ventilator’s pneumatic hiss that you heard, and the unnatural breaks in his speech as he struggled to draw and expel each breath.
You saw the clear plastic hose that snaked from a machine at the back of his wheelchair to the front of his throat. Then you realized this was not a role Mr. Reeve was born to play. It was a cruel joke visited upon a man for whom everything once seemed to come so effortlessly. It was a test.
At an equestrian competition in 1995, Mr. Reeve was thrown from his horse. He broke the top two vertebrae in his neck. Doctors sometimes call that a “hangman’s fracture” because it resembles the injuries inflicted at the end of a rope. Victims often suffocate immediately.
Doctors undoubtedly told Mr. Reeve he had no chance of recovering. But Mr. Reeve dreamed of walking again. He challenged a then-unknown neurologist from Washington University, Dr. John W. McDonald, to help him achieve that goal.
A few years ago, he twitched his left index finger. Later, he learned to wiggle his hips. Some of his muscle tone returned, and with it, some of the feeling in his lower body. No other patient with similar injuries has ever recovered as much. For one brief, unforgettable – and fictional – television commercial, Mr. Reeve got up and walked across a stage.
It probably seemed to some people that, once again, success had come easily to Mr. Reeve. But if you ever saw him in person, struggling to draw and expel each breath, the secret of that success became jarringly clear. He worked tirelessly. He refused to yield an inch to his injuries.
These days, thousands of people with paralyzing injuries are fighting to recover because of Mr. Reeve. That’s one heck of a legacy. But it’s not enough.
When Congress adjourned at the end of last week, it did so without voting on the Christopher Reeve Paralysis Act of 2003. The bill would provide federal funding for research, as well as money to expand rehabilitation care.
Reeve died Sunday, surrounded by his family. His test is over. Now, it’s time to test Congress. It should quickly pass and fully fund the paralysis bill.
As a legacy for the Man of Steel, that truly would be super.
