An Abled Life
Challenging the Limits of Polio
by
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The breakfast hall was large with tables lined up against all four walls and two long rows of tables in the middle of the room. On one wall was a row of windows facing the back where you could view the trees, and in the distance was a small hill topped with a large screened in gazebo. One morning I made the mistake of sitting down at the table which faced the windows. I thought it would e nice to look out as I ate my breakfast. As I stared out the window, someone abruptly grabbed the back of my chair and quickly slide me to the table in the middle of the room. "The tables next to the window are for miners only, understand boy?" One of the men who always sat at the table had pulled me away, and from that time on I avoided getting anywhere near those sacred tables. I don't remember what I was doing, but one day I was so late that I missed supper. I was really hungry as I rolled into the kitchen and a young guy with a white apron said, "watch you want boy?" "I missed supper, I'm hungry. That chicken looks good." "Its Friday boy, I thought you eat fish on Friday." I ate southern fried chicken with rice on the side. It was the best chicken I ever ate." At the top of the hill which we could see through the dining room window stood the screened in gazebo. After dinner and having nothing to do, I decided to walk up the hill and see what was in the gazebo. I was alone and when I got to the foot of the hill, I could see it was a pretty steep climb to the top. From all the exercises and seeing the men struggle to do everything they could on their own, I had convinced myself that I could walk up that hill. It was not an easy climb. When I got half way up, I looked down and for a moment panicked. Talking to myself I calmly inched my way to the top. The air smelled sweet and clean as I looked out at the vast acreage of trees. I felt strong and capable and enjoyed being on my own. It was a long way from being flat on my back in an iron lung. I looked at the path, and with newly found confidence, started down the hill. Looking back on that climb up the hill on my own, I think that may have been the beginning of my long journey to independence. I climbed that hill without asking permission from anyone. I climbed that hill alone. I climbed that hill conquering my fear of failure. I was only eleven years old and life had been challenging me all along and now I found the moxie to challenge life, to test my limits on my own terms.
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About the Book
Tom Wilczewski was stricken with polio in August of 1949, two months before his fifth birthday. He was confined to an iron lung for over one year. In 1963 he graduated from A. Harry Moore High School, in Jersey City, New Jersey. After graduation he sought employment. It was a time when accessibility for the disabled was not part of societies concerns. He was given many excuses why he could not be hired. The underlying factor was —he sat in a wheelchair. After much disappointment in seeking employment he started an engraving business with his brother Ed which they successfully operated for over thirty five years. November 27, 1984, was cold and dreary. On that day the life that Tom knew came to a screeching halt. An unscrupulous and incompetent construction crew that had been building a condominium next to his house had undermined the foundation of the home and his business. The family home and Tom’s business were destroyed. Tom in his wheelchair with his brother Ed and their nearly blind father barely escaped being trapped in the crumbling red brick dwelling. The Wilczewski family fought their way back from this devastating blow---Tom with his brother Ed started their business over again at another location in their downtown neighborhood. The high point in Tom’s life was marrying Antoinette who was equally accomplished and like Tom had polio.
About the Author
Thomas C. Wilczewski was stricken with polio just before his fifth birthday. He graduated from high school in 1963 and established an engraving business with his brother that operated for nearly thirty years. Wilczewski and his late wife, Antoinette, were married in 1991. He enjoys watercolor painting and has become an award-winning artist.