Monday, September 13, 1998
Christopher Reeve still Superman
Accident hasn't dampened spirits
BY DEBORAH KENDRICK
The Cincinnati Enquirer
Superman actor Christopher Reeve broke his neck in a horseback riding accident three years ago, on my son's birthday.
Dates have an uncanny way of connecting themselves to one another for me. With that particular connection, I remember reflecting on the road ahead for my son's childhood hero: Superman.
My first reaction was a blend of sorrow and horror; my second was the certainty that this stellar steely actor would be the same man he had always been.
For years, I've held a personal theory regarding disability onset that goes like this: When you acquire a disability, whatever traits were strong in your character before the disability will become magnified as you learn to survive.
If you were always an optimist, you may become a world class Pollyanna. If you had a good sense of humor, you may become a comic. If anger was a problem, you might now be the meanest so-and-so on the block.
In Christopher Reeve's remarkable memoir, Still Me (Random Hose; $25; audio version, read by the author, $18.95), the actor shows us that he is indeed still the same man - and, perhaps, so much more so than the public was previously able to see.
The charisma and steely determination we remembered from the Superman days are still there, but readers will also find in these pages a man of uncommon insight, candor and passion.
This actor, sailor, skier and competitive horseman tells the gripping story of his accident, but there is far more substance to this book than a simple ''before-and-after I was quadriplegic'' tale.
He revisits the pain of childhood made complicated by his parents' divorce with the same riveting reality with which he recalls the slap he received from an angry soap opera fan.
He is clear and honest when he relates the details of his daily personal assistance for getting out of bed or dressed, and just as honest when he tells how he fell in love with Dana Morosini, and how that love and marriage changed his life.
Some activists have argued that Christopher Reeve inspires setbacks in social attitudes with his focus on spinal cord injury cure. This would be so if he had not accepted himself so completely as a quadriplegic.
Mr. Reeve has shifted from being a man whose very essence seemed rooted in his physical strength and ability to one who still mesmerizes crowds with his presence, despite his inability to curl his own toes or hold a spoon.
The traits he possessed before falling off the horse that have magnified themselves since his rehabilitation as a quadriplegic are many and complex.
All of those qualities seem even greater today and, as his then 3-year-old son, Will, pointed out as his father lay in the hospital bed, are the focal point for myriad tubes and machinery:
''He can still smile.''
Deborah Kendrick, a Cincinnati free-lance writer, is a nationally recognized advocate for people with disabilities. Write: Deborah Kendrick, Cincinnati Enquirer, 312 Elm St., Cincinnati 45202; e-mail: 71340.473@compuserve.com.
KENDRICK ARCHIVE
