Christopher Reeve's soft smile and occasional chuckle belied his physical condition as a paraplegic when he spoke to AU students via satellite Tuesday. He encouraged people in the crowd to recognize the resilience of the human spirit and live their lives intrepidly.
Reeve, who became an icon of American culture through his role as Superman in the successful series of films in the late '70s and '80s, was paralyzed from the neck down when he broke his second and third vertebrae in a 1995 horseback-riding accident.
"Growing up I thought I was bulletproof - no pun intended," he smiled. "Only now do I realize how precious life is. You don't have to wait 42 years to figure that out. You can start now."
As a wealthy celebrity, Reeve found that his social and economic status separated him from most people. His disability, on the other hand, does not isolate him, but rather allows Reeve to meet and bond with people who would never have crossed his path before.
Immediately after his accident, Reeve spent several grueling months in a New Jersey rehabilitation center, he said. The staff closed the doors to the star's room and placed two security guards outside to protect his privacy. After one week of seclusion, Reeve insisted that it open the doors and remove the guards.
"I found that all kinds of people came into my room in their wheelchairs," he explained. "I was thrown into a group where people were united by the fact that they were broken."
Reeve played Superman, the quintessential hero, yet he said that he came to understand the true meaning of the word in the rehabilitation center.
"A hero is not a larger-than-life figure," he said. "He is an ordinary individual who has the courage to persevere over overwhelming obstacles when there is no reward in sight."
A hero courageously speaks his mind, Reeve said. The accident may have left him immobile, but it also offered him ample time to reflect on his values. He now believes that people must live their lives freely and fearlessly.
"Having nearly kicked the bucket a few times has given me freedom: the freedom to say exactly what I mean, for better or for worse," Reeve said. People often ask him where his will to survive springs from, Reeve said, "but we all have powers within us that we don't even know exist until we are tested."
His wife, Dana, and his three children provide the unconditional support that has sustained him thus far, Reeve said. The knowledge that he can use his recognizable face and privileged status to solicit funds for spinal cord injury research also motivates Reeve.
"I am able to initiate dialogue and raise awareness and I embrace this position," he said.
