The Legend of Screaming John

I pushed down on John’s legs until he screamed. I eased up. John screamed louder. I was hurting John because he asked me to do it.

John was a freshman in college, clocking blistering mile times on the track team. Expected to be a national force in his sophomore year, he spent the summer working out on a ten-speed bicycle in California’s wine country. One day, a passing eighteen-wheeler hit him. He wasn't expected to live, but he did. Legs broken in multiple places… hip fractured… ribs fractured…. blood loss requiring 21 units of blood the first day. Up to his armpits in casts for months.

I met John a year after his accident while I was an eighteen year-old on the same track team. Entering the training room after practice, John would ask me to press down on his legs to increase his range of motion. Both legs would reach about 45 degrees and, after that, the screaming would begin. Day after day, I pushed… John yelled… I pushed…. This continued throughout my freshman year.

My sophomore year, John was gone. I never spoke with him, again. I did, though, read about him years later. Walking through a restaurant, I looked down at the front page of the sports section in the local paper. There was a picture of John. He was competitive once again and heading for international championships…

…in kayaking.

Folding his legs into a kayak, he competed against the best in the world.

My belated thanks to John. He gave to me two early-life gifts. I believe I complain less than most people about the hardships of life, as a result of our time together. Also, his path showed me what a strong spirit can do to turn a tragedy into success.

Screaming John has been paddling 43 years. He was a two-time member of the US Wild Water Racing Team. The greatest distance he has raced is 460 miles.

Note: I am publishing this Thank You in advance of Thursday so that a reader might forward this article to a friend in need of some inspiration to get through the week.