My readers know that I have hashed and rehashed the science and the ethics of the stem-cell debate many times. But in recognition of the life, struggles and death of Christopher Reeve, I want to share a deeply personal story to respectfully counter his position on embryonic stem-cell research. The story that follows is of another real life Superman named Will York.
Will is my husband’s best friend since childhood. He is 6’5”, blonde, broad shouldered, with a chiseled chin and infectious smile. All those handsome physical features aside, the real story of Will York lay deep beneath the surface of his appearance.
Not long after meeting Will I discovered he ran marathons. He took the ROTC class in college and went through Ranger training “just for the fun of it.” Will delighted in snow-laden camping trips, paddled through the Amazon, climbed mountains, skied the great slopes of Canada and biked across Alaska.
Bitten by the acting bug and a call to fame, he went west to Hollywood. In Hollywood, many producers called him the “hardest working person” out there. Knowing Will, he tried to live up to that description every moment of every day.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when he left for L.A. But I wouldn’t have been surprised to see him become the latest heartthrob in daytime television, selling aftershave or making his TV debut on “Survivor.”
Sadly, all my expectations changed, as did his, one fall day back in 2001. While working at home, I got a phone call that sent me to my knees in prayer. Will was in a serious mountain biking accident; the prognosis was very bad.
I would learn later that 10 minutes before the accident, Will was on top of a mountain enjoying the itching and twitching of his legs that often come after a two-hour up-hill ride (not as if I would know). He was one of those fitness freaks who was looking forward to being sore the next day. Ironically, the ride had been challenging enough that it made him pause and thank God for his legs and ability to ride.
A few minutes later, Will came upon a blind turn and rode over a 12-foot drop into a ditch. To avoid landing on his face, he did a front flip and landed on his back. The sudden pain of multiple broken ribs and vertebra was the most intense pain he had ever known. The pain was immediately followed by the terror of realizing he couldn’t feel or move his legs. In that very moment, he remembers chanting, “Please God, don’t let me be paralyzed. I want to learn to tap dance.” That prayer has so far gone unanswered.
It has been three years since Will became paralyzed from the waist down. He has been largely confined to a wheel chair, struggling daily with a continuing pain. He has faced multiple surgeries and intense therapies. The greatest challenge of all has been learning how to live life all over again from a seated position.
Admittedly, we all wondered in those early days after the accident how it might change him. Today, few are surprised that he had the courage and strength to conquer the challenges paralysis brought into his life. In part, we are humbled as we secretly wonder if we would have or could have done as well. He is a living testament to an unquenchable human spirit. He is also an inspiration to those seeking the strength that comes from a life deeply rooted in faith and a relationship with Jesus Christ.
He remains in California where he has made a new life for himself, complete with the occasional skiing trip (although from a chair). He now talks of returning to school to pursue a life in politics (for which he would gladly accept donations as he is currently unable to work).
Will says this is a different kind of “roughing it” than hiking in the Amazon or biking in Alaska, but living through it is similarly rewarding.
As for a cure, Will prays that God will bless the scientists who are searching. He remains ever hopeful of restored function to his legs and lower body. But he also prays that no one will ever use his injury and condition as an excuse to kill someone else, which is exactly the case of embryonic stem-cell research. He says he would rather be in his wheelchair for the rest of his life than sacrifice an innocent life so that he might run again.
He still thanks God for his legs but is more thankful for his life. His greatest hope is that the sanctity of all life will always be honored above his comfort and even cure. Will understands like few people ever will, that for the unborn to one day enjoy for themselves legs that work and “roughing it” in the wild, they must first be allowed to live.
Post-debate I told Trump Kamala had the questions in advance
Wayne Allyn Root