Disabled Man's Bike Stolen

In yesterday's post, I talked about the importance of bicycles, sometimes modified, for people with disabilities.  Some people, like a man I mentioned, can't get drivers' licenses because of their disabilities, but they can still pedal a two- or three-wheeler.  That can allow disabled folks to get to jobs or classes, or exercise, they might not have otherwise.  Being able to study, make a living and get exercise--or simply enjoy some of the other things normally-abled people take for granted--brings about a sense of independence and some semblance of control over their lives.  

For some disabled people, such as Randy Bowling, simply getting a bike is an accomplishment.  The 50-year-old Hamilton, Ohio resident suffered a traumatic brain injury at age 16.  A few months ago, he spent $157 on a bike he rode four miles, each way, to and from his job at a Wal-Mart.  "It was the first bike I ever bought myself," he said.

Now that bike is gone.  On Saturday night, Bowling rode to the door of a nearby store.  He stepped inside and, less than a minute later, a man rode up on another bike, grabbed Bowling's ride, and took off.  The theft was captured on the store's video camera.

Although he needs the job and says he's prepared to walk to work if he must, Bowling says he doesn't feel angry toward the guy who took his bike.  "I'd rather talk to him and help him get a job," he expains.

His Reward For Helping Others Ride

Yesterday, I complained about boneheaded planners and inconsiderate (or just clueless) drivers.  So, dear readers, I figured I'd give you a feel-good story today.

Owen Werner's mother is justly proud of him.  The 11-year-old from Elk Rapids, Michigan learned that a man in nearby Kalkaska modifies bicycles for special-needs and low-income kids.  So, Werner started a fundraiser in his school to help the man's work--and get those bikes to disabled and poor kids.

His efforts paid off, in the way he hoped--and in a way he didn't expect.

You see, Owen is one of the kids he was trying to help--although he wasn't thinking of himself when he started the fundraiser.  But, apparently, someone else noticed--specifically, the owners of McLain Cycle and Fitness.  They gave him a specially-modified bike for his needs:  He has a condition that's kept his muscles and joints from developing normally.

Owen Werner

In watching the video of him, I couldn't help but to remember someone I knew in high school.  He walked and moved in a way similar to how Owen gets around.  But he had the misfortune of growing up in a place and time where it was believed that kids with similar handicaps were incapable of any sort of physical activity.  He was even left back a year because, in spite of having an otherwise-perfect academic record, he didn't pass Phys Ed.  

Fortunately for him, he was extremely (almost frighteningly) smart and talented in all sorts of other ways.  I have to wonder, though, what his life would have been like had he grown up now--or simply in some place with more forward-thinking people than my high school had in the mid-1970s.  

Seeing Owen Werner also reminded me of something that I see in my work and everyday life:  How often physical disability and poverty go hand-in-hand.  If you go to any public housing complex, you will find disproportionate numbers of people, young and old, in wheelchairs and walkers, or who need other kinds of physical assistance.  At number of them are, and have been, my students and have spent all or parts of their lives in "the projects".  

There are, of course, several reasons for that. One is that the physical disability of a child can impoverish a family.  Another is that disabled people, in spite of all of the technological and social advances of the past few decades, have much more difficulty finding employment, let alone anything that pays well.  Moreover, a kid from a low-income background--or an adult who has trouble getting a job with a good insurance plan--might not get treatment that could keep a low-grade malady from turning into a crippling disability.

On a more positive note, I also couldn't help but to think of how versatile cycling is.  Someone, I forget who, said that a bicycle (or tricycle) can be adapted to just about any physical disability besides blindness or deafness.  And, of course, deaf and blind people can ride a tandem with a sighted or hearing "captain." (I know:  I played that role on a few rides with blind riders.)

Somehow, though, I don't think anything is going to stop Owen from doing whatever he wants.  Aleasha Witt, his mother, has every reason to be proud.

So He Can Live His Life

I was talking with the director of an organization that helps people with disabilities. She'd come to the college, where I was teaching at the time, to recruit soon-to-graduate students looking for jobs as well as volunteers.  During the course of our conversation, she mentioned that part of her organization's work involved workforce development.

She explained that, once on the job, people with disabilities--whether intellectual, emotional or physical--are no more likely to be absent or have other issues than non-disabled people in the workplace.  "In fact, they often are better"  because "their jobs mean more to them" she told me.

The hardest thing, according to her, is getting them into the workplace.  I thought she was referring to notions prospective employers might have about disabled people.  Those indeed exist, but the biggest difficulty is actually getting them to the workplace.  "They lack transportation," she explained.

Her organization is based here in New York City.  One would think that in a city like this, with all of its mass transportation, one could find his or her way to the job.  But even here, there are "transportation deserts" where the subways don't go and there are few or no bus lines.  Those areas include most of Staten Island as well as the outer parts of the other boroughs--even Manhattan. It's even difficult to get a taxi or Uber car in those areas--assuming, of course, the person needing transportation could afford either.

If transportation can be such a barrier in the Big Apple, it's worse in suburban and rural areas--in fact, most of the United States outside of the coastal metropoli and Chicago--where there is little or no public transportation and people are likely to commute greater distances.  If someone doesn't have a car, or can't drive, getting to work can be daunting, if not nearly impossible.

Having a disability makes it more likely for someone not to have a car or to be unable to drive.  (I used to know someone, in fact, who wasn't allowed to drive because he was classified as "legally blind" due to his lack of peripheral vision. He could--and did--ride a bicycle to work.)  That means either not getting a job or very long walks to work.

Jonathan Clouse with his new bike in front of his workplace.

The latter describes Jonathan Clouse's situation.  It took the 19-year-old an hour to walk to or from his job at an Applebee's restaurant in Burlington, Iowa.  He never told any of his co-workers, but one day Jerry Woodsmall, a cook at the restaurant, saw him walking in--soaked, after trudging through a thunderstorm.  

He spread word about Clouse, and he and his fellow employees pitched in to buy him a bicycle and helmet. For them, it was as much an expression of how they feel about him as anything else: "We all like Jonathan, and I think everyone deserves a chance at working," explained his boss, Lisa Gosney.

He is grateful for the opportunity--and the bike--which, he says, have opened up a new world for him.  "Why would anyone want a job?  So they can live their life," he said.

And his bike will help him with both.

Because They Are Able

The Place de la Concorde is one of the world's most impressive public squares.  The first time I saw it, however, I tried to imagine it "covered with blood," as more than one writer of the time described it, as members of the French nobility and royal family were guillotined.

I have seen other beautiful places with terrible histories.  Sometimes their histories make their beauty all the more wonderful, in much the way lilacs are (and smell even better) because they bud and bloom at the end of winter.  

(Last week, I clipped some that were growing in a lot near the RFK Memorial Bridge.  They're some of the latest I recall picking or buying, and their scent was all the more intoxicating because it seemed our winter simply would not end.)

All of this brings me to Elliot Lake, Ontario.  It's in the northern part of the Canadian province, above Lake Huron.  I've never been there, but the photos I've seen are enticing.  I hear that people go there for outdoor sports--or to retire.

Not so long ago, however, it was known as the "uranium capital of the world."  Just about any kind of mining is dangerous to the miners and the place being mined:  All you have to do is look at parts of West Virginia and Southeastern Colorado to know that.  The Elliott Lake area is no exception.  Though it doesn't seem to have suffered the environmental devastation some mining areas incurred, plenty of miners and other workers were injured, disabled or even killed while doing their jobs--not to mention those who got sick from uranium poisoning.  

Well, today some cyclists are going to set off from Elliot Lake and ride 170 kilometers to two other former mining centers in Ontario:  Massey and Sudbury.  What's interesting about this ride is that some of the cyclists were themselves injured or made ill on their jobs.  Friends and family members will ride with them, in part to support injured workers, but also to protest the cuts in benefits paid to such workers.