I have been a cycling fan for decades. I raced local races after Lemond became the “first american” to generate excitement here in the states for European racing. After Lemond’s retirement my love for cycling only grew. The closest I came to local fame was second place in a race that included the Taco Bell team. Having not progressed further actually caused me to stay with cycling longer than most guys. Now that I’m older I look back and realize trying to reach my peak kept me hungry.
Then there is the story of my comeback. While training for a MS fundraiser in 1997, myself and two other friends were decending a hill. A dog approached the first cyclist who yelled and the dog jumped out of the way. I thought he disappeared but by the time I was halfway down the hill the dog jumped off a bank. As he hit the pavement in front of me I hit him tumbling over the handlebars. I was rushed to Erlanger Medical Center in Chattanooga with orbital blowouts, fractured cheek, fractured nose, fractured jaw, two dangerous brain bleeds, a concussion and my left leg was paralyzed. The doctor in the trauma unit said had I not worn a helmet I wouldn’t have survived. I spent a week in ICU and was then released with no promise of ever walking again. After a week at home I started to slowly recover. Near the end of the first week I was invlolved in physical therapy. While having my paralyzed leg massaged I started experiencing strange symptoms. I thought I was having a massave heart attack. An ambulance was called and I was rushed back to ICU. When I finally awoke I heard an intern ask my surgeon “Should he be alive?” The doctor answered him “Not technically.”
What had happened was this: It was not a heart attack. Three life threatening blood clots travelled from my paralyzed leg through my heart into my lungs. I was stabilized and spent another week in the hospital. A young doctor told me I would most likely never be the same. My diminished lung capacity would hinder my athletic capabilities. During the following weeks many prayers were prayed on my behalf and it sounds a little too good to be true but…..within two weeks I was pronounced well. My leg began to function normally. The doctors were amazed. They took me off all meds and I assumed a normal life once again. Eventually I started training again and today I feel stronger than ever. I truly have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.
A week after my accident I recieved a call from the Chattanooga Free Press Times. A reporter had been covering a story about the ICU when some nurses told him my story. When he called he asked if I would grant an interview. He was convinced it would make a great human interest story. His only requirement was that he would need time to interview the doctors and staff to make sure his reporting was accurate. The end of my story seem so out of the ordinary he wanted to make sure no one embellished.
The next two weekends the newspaper did quarter page articles. It seemed like I was reading someone else’s story yet it made me appreciate being alive.
Maybe that’s why Lance Armstrong’s story has meant so much to me. To get that close to death and then be given another chance makes you want to give it your best. I think I understand what separates Lance from the average guy. It’s knowledge that comes from walking where others have not walked. Both his highs and lows have far exceeded those of the average guy.
I still train and ride. Being self employed I have more opportunities to ride.than most guys. I raise significant amounts of money for MS (twelve years now) and the American Cancer Society. Once a year every person I’ve worked for recieves a letter with an invitation to be a fund raiser for these much needed causes. It is a priviledge to ride my bike to help find a cure.
My wife Natalie and I have four children between us. One of her twin sons lives in New Zealand. The other son travels the globe for IKEA and resides in Atlanta. They are in their 20’s Her daughter (in her 20’s) attends college in Arkansas. My son (also in his 20’s) works at Lee University in Cleveland Tennessee. Natalie and I reside in
Riceville Tennessee with Max the golden retriever and Heratio the main coon cat. My bike a a Guerciotti Independent.
