I’m Not Disabled, I’m Capable

I met Ray Menebroker when I was a teenager. He was my softball coach. I don’t remember wondering how he was going to coach me. I just knew he was my coach.

When I first saw him, he walked with a lost strand crutch and had a bit of what I would call a limp. One of his hands was also deformed. He could throw the ball well and had this amazing ability to hold the ball and the bat in one hand, throw the ball up in the air and quickly swing the bat. I had no idea how he managed to accurately and consistently get the ball to where he wanted it to go. Now I know, quite simply he practiced. He grew up playing baseball from a wheelchair.

I didn’t know any better. I never thought to myself, maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. What I saw was a man doing his best to teach a group of feisty teenage girls how to play softball and how to do it well.

I am not sure how long I had been playing on the team when we agreed to be entered into a tournament. It was the first one the team played in. We came in either last place or close to last place. I actually don’t remember feeling defeated. I do remember feeling disappointed. Coach, though, had this uncanny way of inspiring us. He knew that it was a moment in time and just because we lost didn’t mean we couldn’t win in the future. We just needed more practice. We signed up to play a winter league and practiced regularly for the next year. When the tournament came back around, we came home with first place. I learned from this to never give up. I also learned that no matter how capable I saw myself or incapable I might think I am, if I keep at it, chances are I will find a solution.

Ray is now 76 years old, lives with his wife Vicki and is in a motorized wheel chair.  His youngest daughter’s family lives across the street. He was one of nine children and polio struck when he was seven years old. He doesn’t remember much of life without his challenges. His mom had told him there were two words she never wanted to hear from him, “I can’t.”

He remembers learning to fend for himself and the family gave him the room to fail. Which reminds me of the wisdom from the Samuel Beckett quote, “Ever tried, ever failed, no matter, try again, fail again, fail better.” When he fell, which happened a lot at first, he first had to try and get up on his own. He was not always successful and the family didn’t help the first time, they waited and watched. Later in life, his sister had her boyfriend over and Ray fell. No one moved, no one helped. The boyfriend was stunned and wondered what was happening. The boyfriend ended up marrying his sister. He later revealed that he thought the family was brutal, only to learn that they were teaching Ray to be self-sufficient.

Ray became a mechanical engineer and eventually worked his way up to supervising over 40 people. He doesn’t think any of them ever saw him as incapable either. What he believed they saw was a capable man who earned their respect, just like any other person.

Being a mechanical engineer not only served him as a career but also enabled him to be creative in ways that would help make his life easier. From my perspective, I wish more people with disabilities were inventors or had the knowledge to patent their ideas. When one is disabled they are forced to be creative to live in the same world as everyone else. One of the many things disabled people may offer are experiences and creativity in how to solve problems.

Coach married Vicki whom he loves dearly. They had two wonderful daughters, one of which I played softball with. He reminisced of a time when the girls were young when Vicki went on trip. Both girls were left with Ray and they had a blast!

One of Ray’s favorite stories to tell was when he pulled into a disabled parking spot, got out and a fellow employee he was with started laughing. He asked what was so funny and the man said, “I was going to ask if you realized that you were parked in a disabled persons spot.” Rightfully so, his happiness that he was viewed as a someone who might not need the spot brought him joy.

I’m lucky to know Ray. To have grown up with him and his family as part of my journey. I know that no matter the physical damage to my body, I’m still important and valuable.