I've had a growing Superman wall for several years now, ever since he was put in a wheelchair after his riding accident. "His" accident, I mean Christopher Reeve's.
It's flattering when someone takes the time to look for some Christopher Reeve memorabilia, to give me for a Birthday or whatever, because I know sometimes it can be difficult and pricey. After all, he was suddenly unable to sign autographs and photos after May 1995.
That's what makes my collection special to me, because the script I have from the 1978 movie and a couple of the photos have his signature on them.
When Reeve died in 2004 I was so heartbroken. I had to keep from crying at work and I remember my asshole co-workers were teasing me because it was to them merely the death of a has-been actor. But he was much more than that. He personified a hero during his acting career and gave people something very huge to be excited about. Not just comic book readers, but people who really wanted to believe that humans were capable of much more.
And then he personified a hero when the horse riding accident paralyzed him from the neck down. He used every ounce of will to get out in the public and raise awareness as well as money for spinal cord injury research. He battled hernias, broken bones, blood clots, deadly allergic reactions to medications, and endured 5 hours a day of physical therapy to keep his body in good shape so he could continue to show doctors and the public that it is possible for a quadriplegic to regain function.
And he did. Before he died of a severe reaction to medications in October 2004, Reeve regained sensation in his lower body, and had begun to take steps in physical therapy. He had also partially weaned himself from the ventilator he'd been dependant on for nearly a decade.
I was nervous about reading his book "Still Me" that he wrote in 1998, because I didn't want to have a week-long cry fest. But really it was an inspirational and interesting read.
One paragraph, though, brought plenty of tears.
He was writing about a surprise appearance he made at the Academy Awards, just a year after his accident:
"I entered hotels and buildings thru garages, kitchens, and service elevators, and met cooks, waiters, chamber-maids, and maintenance crews. Many of them said they were praying for me. Others looked me right in the eye and said, "We love you Superman, you're our hero." At first, I couldn't believe they meant it. Then I realized they were looking past the chair and honoring me for a role that obviously had real meaning for them. I didn't feel patronized in any way. Clearly a part I had played twenty years before was still valued. The fact that I was in a wheelchair, unable to move below my shoulders, and dependent on the support of others for almost every aspect of my daily life had not diminished the fact that I was--and always would be--their Superman."
