Still Me (Random House Large Print) - Softcover

Reeve, Christopher

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0375702342 ISBN 13: 9780375702341

Publisher: Random House Large Print, 1998

Synopsis

See the difference, read Still Me in Large Print

* About Large Print
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When the first Superman movie came out I was frequently asked 'What is a hero?'  I remember the glib response I repeated so many times.  My answer was that a hero is someone who commits a courageous action without considering the consequences--a soldier who crawls out of a foxhole to drag an injured buddy to safety.  And I also meant individuals who are slightly larger than life: Houdini and Lindbergh, John Wayne, JFK, and Joe DiMaggio.  Now my definition is completely different.  I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles: a fifteen-year-old boy who landed on his head while wrestling with his brother, leaving him barely able to swallow or speak; Travis Roy, paralyzed in the first thirty seconds of a hockey game in his freshman year at college.  These are real heroes, and so are the families and friends who have stood by them."

The whole world held its breath when Christopher Reeve struggled for life on Memorial Day, 1995.  On the third jump of a riding competition, Reeve was thrown headfirst from his horse in an accident that broke his neck and left him unable to move or breathe.

In the years since then, Reeve has not only survived, but has fought for himself, for his family, and for the hundreds of thousands of people with spinal cord injuries in the United States and around the world.  And he has written Still Me, the heartbreaking, funny, courageous, and hopeful story of his life.

Chris describes his early success on Broadway opposite the legendary Katherine Hepburn, the adventure of filming Superman on the streets of New York, and how the movie made him a star.  He continued to move regularly between film acting and theater work in New York, Los Angeles, and at the WIlliamstown Theatre Festival in the Berkshires.  Reunited with his Bostonians director, James Ivory, in 1992, he traveled to England to work with Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins in The Remains of the Day.

The Man who cannot move has not stopped moving.  He has established a charitable foundation to raise awareness and money for research on spinal cord injuries.  His work as director of the HBO film In the Gloaming earned him an Emmy nomination, one of five that the film received.  His speeches at the Democratic National Convention and the Academy Awards inspired people around the country and the world.  He has testified before Congress on behalf of health insurance legislation, lobbied for increased federal funding for spinal cord research, and developed a working relationship with President Clinton.

With dignity and sensitivity, he describes the journey he has made--physically, emotionally, spiritually.  He explores his complex relationship with his parents, his efforts to remain a devoted husband and father, and his continuing and heroic battle to rebuild his life.

This is the determined, passionate story of one man, a gifted actor and star, and how he and his family came to grips with the kind of devastating, unexplainable shock that fate can bring to any of us.  Chris and Dana Reeve have gathered the will and the spirit to create a new life, one responsive and engaged and focused on the future.

About this title

About the Author

Christopher Reeve played Superman in the series of four films.  He starred opposite Katherine Hepburn in A Matter of Gravity, in Lanford Wilson's Fifth of July, and then appeared in many films, including The Remains of the Day and The Bostonians for Merchant Ivory as well as Death Trap, Somewhere in Time, Streetsmart, and the HBO movie Above Suspicion.  He is also the President of the Christopher Reeve Foundation.  Reeve, his wife Dana, and their son Will live in Bedford, New York.

THE CHRISTOPHER REEVE FOUNDATION

Founded in 1996, the mission of the Christopher Reeve Foundation (CRF) is to raise funds for medical research leading to the effective treatment and, ultimately, a cure for spinal cord injury paralysis.  CRF also provides grants to local organizations that focus on the quality-of-life issues for the disabled, and it serves as a source of information and a voice for all people with disabilities.

The Christopher Reeve Foundation (CRF) stands at an historic crossroads of spinal cord research, determination and hope.  Together, we know that it will be possible to repair the damaged spinal cord.

STRATEGIC PARTNERSHIP WITH THE AMERICAN PARALYSIS ASSOCIATION

The CRF wisely partners with APA to direct its funds into proven research channels, including a collaborative network of over 300 investigators around the world.  Together, the two non-profit organizations provide support for many of the seminal studies that will culminate in continued medical breakthroughs.

For more information on CRF and its activities:

The Christopher Reeve Foundation (CRF)
P.O. Box 277
F.D.R. Station
New York, NY  10150-0277

(888) 711-HOPE
(973) 912-9433 (fax)

Reviews

The audiobook version of Still Me, read by the author, is a lasting and treasured experience. Reeve's voice is clear and almost disconcertingly direct. He says, "This audiobook allows me to communicate with you in a very personal way, second only to being in the same room." Audiobooks are not new to Reeve. He was fully aware of the process and its demands, but when an audio version of Still Me was discussed, Reeve insisted he would read it himself. He couldn't imagine how anyone else could read it. Lots of credit goes to the producer Robert Kessler and sound engineer Scott Cresswell, who met the challenges of the project. Reeve's ventilator is never allowed to be an aural distraction but, also it's not obscured completely. In introducing the tape, Reeve recalls fond memories of listening to stories and of reading aloud with his mother and brother. "I am very grateful for the power of the spoken word." And listeners will thank Christopher Reeve for this generosity. R.F.W.A winner of the AUDIOFILE Earphones Award (c)AudioFile, Portland, Maine

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

A few months after the accident I had an idea for a short film about a quadriplegic who lives in a dream. During the day, lying in his hospital bed, he can't move, of course. But at night he dreams that he's whole again, and is able to do anything and go everywhere. This is someone who had been a lifelong sailor, and who had always loved the water, and he had a beautiful gaff-rigged sloop. Not like my boat, the Sea Angel, which was modern and made of fiberglass. In the story the boat is a great old wooden beauty, whose varnish gleams in the moonlight.

In his dream he sails down the path of a full moon, and there's a gentle breeze, perfect conditions-the kind of romantic night sailing that anyone can imagine. But by seven in the morning, he's back in his bed in the rehab hospital and everything is frozen again.

The dream is very vivid. And as time passes it becomes even more vivid. At first it's just a dream, and he recognizes it as such. But suddenly one night he finds himself actually getting out of bed and leaving the hospital, fully aware of walking down the corridor and out the door, then into the boat, which, magically, is anchored not far away. And he gets on board and goes sailing, long into the night and the moonlight. Soon these voyages become so real to him that when he wakes up in his bed at seven in the morning, his hair is soaked. And the nurse comes in and says, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't dry your hair enough last night when I gave you a shampoo. You slept with wet hair." He says nothing, but he's thinking that his hair is wet from the spray when he was out on the water.

One time he comes back still wearing his foul weather gear, and he has to hide it in the hospital room closet because the nurses are going to wonder where it came from. Now his wife and family, his wife and children, have been very distressed all along because, since he became paralyzed, he has not been able to pull out of a serious depression. He has shut them out of his life. His children are afraid of him because he is not himself and they don't know how to be with him, and his wife has been talking to the doctors and the psychologists at the hospital about what to do because he is apparently unable to cope or to come out of his shell.

But as he continues to go sailing in his dreams and as these dreams become more and more real, his mood begins to improve and he seems less withdrawn. In the mornings he is more content and much more communicative. His wife notices the change, but she can't understand it, and he won't explain it. It's not something that he can talk about. He's not sure if he's going crazy. He thinks that he may be losing his mind. But since the family is feeling the benefit of his improvement, his dreams are making their life together happier.

He sails in Tenants Harbor, or a similarly idyllic spot in Maine, and there's a fellow there, an older man, who always turns on the light in his
cabin down by the water when our man is sailing. He doesn't sleep very well, and he always gets up to watch the younger man go out in the wooden boat. Sometimes he comes down to his dock, and we can tell from the yearning in his eyes that the sailboat is something he loves and admires. Not that he's jealous, but he never misses a chance to see the boat sailing so beautifully in the moonlight. Well, there comes a time when our protagonist realizes that these voyages offer a way of escaping from his paralyzed condition, that he could just sail and sail on happily-it's what he loves most in the world-until one night he would go out into the middle of the ocean, and he wouldn't take supplies or anything. He would just sail until he dropped. And he would die happy. He would just go sailing down the path of the moon, as far as he
possibly could go, and leave everything and everyone behind him.

And one night he starts to do that. He just decides he's going to go, with no idea where; he is going to sail away forever. But then, as he is heading out to sea, he starts to think about what he has in his life, how grateful he is for his wife and his children. Because, during the days, you see, he's changed. His kids are less afraid of him, and they're playing with him, and his wife . . . they're clearly in love. He is coming out of his depression.

So here he is doing the thing that he loves most for himself, thinking that he could sail on and forget the world. But along the way he begins to
realize what he is leaving behind. He turns the boat around and comes back. And he goes straight to the dock of the older man who has always loved this boat. He ties up right at the dock, and when the old man comes down to greet him, our man says, "Here, this is for you." He gives up the boat. He no longer needs it. And he goes back to the hospital, and he wakes up, and he's frozen and he's a quadriplegic again. But he has an entirely new basis for the future with his family and toward recovery.

That's the gist of it. Of course the story comes from my experience, but it's not my story. I'm different from this man because my family saved me at the very beginning. When a catastrophe happens it's easy to feel so sorry for yourself that you can't even see anybody around you. But the way out is through your relationships. The way out of that misery or obsession is to focus more on what your little boy needs or what your teenagers need or what other people around you need. It's very hard to do, and often you have to force yourself. But that is the answer to the dilemma of being frozen-at least it's the answer I found.

Yet these dreams of being able to move and to live again in your former life can be very real, very powerful. When I was in denial about my condition, they were even stronger. And it's always a shock in the morning when you wake up and realize where you are. You think: This can't be my life. There's been a mistake. It took a lot of adjustment. It still does. Less so now than it did.

I wake up in the morning. I sleep with my mouth open, so my throat is excruciatingly dry because of the drugs I'm on and the lack of humidity in the room. I may have spasmed to a very uncomfortable place, and my neck is often twisted into a painful position. And I'm lying in this narrow bed, alone, because it's not big enough for Dana to share, though she always sleeps in the same room with me. She has a single bed next to me so we can be near each other and talk and wake up and know we're together.

On Memorial Day 1995 I was headed down to Culpeper, Virginia, with my horse, Buck, to compete in a combined training event. I was getting to be a pretty good rider; I had taken up the sport about ten years earlier, when I was cast as Vronsky, a captain in the cavalry in a film version of Anna Karenina and wanted to do some of my own riding. I had been allergic to horses since childhood, but to prepare for the part I loaded up with antihistamines and took daily lessons at a barn on Martha's Vineyard, where I usually spent part of the summer. By the end of a month of intensive training, I could walk, trot, canter, and gallop fairly respectably. The horse was a huge Trakehner stallion named Good Boy; but when Charlotte, my instructor, would say "good boy" in a praising tone, she wasn't talking to me.

I went off to Budapest in the fall of 1984 to begin filming and quickly discovered that the other riders in the movie were members of the Hungarian national equestrian team. One of the highlights of the story is a steeplechase in which Captain Vronsky's horse is injured and he has to shoot him on the spot. I didn't feel quite ready (to say the least) to jump four-foot hedges at twenty-five miles an hour, but I did feel prepared to gallop on the flat along with the team rather than use a double. In the nineteenth century races had no starting gates; the riders walked their horses around in a circle, and when the starter dropped the flag everyone turned from the position he was in and started down the track. I asked the team coach how I would know when to start if I was facing away from the flag, and he replied, in his thick, broken English, "When your horse sees others are going, he is going too." This proved to be a major understatement. The cameras rolled; the flag dropped; the professional riders spurred their horses; and suddenly I was flying down the course in the middle of the group, going so fast we outran the camera truck that was supposed to keep pace alongside us. After a couple of takes the director gave the truck more of a head start.

The whole experience was absolutely exhilarating; I was bitten by the riding bug. I realized I had been in over my head in Hungary, so when I came home I decided to take up the sport properly. I began to train at a small barn in Bedford, New York (where we have our home today), and to build up time in the saddle with good friends in Williamstown, Massachusetts, where I often appeared at the theater festival. In the fall we would usually go up to Woodstock, Vermont, for three days of trail riding in the Green Mountains. I learned a lot from riding many different horses, especially from Hope, a mare I rode briefly who was one of the meanest and most unpredictable four-legged creatures I've ever come across.

Whenever I came into her stall to feed her or put on the saddle, she would turn around, stick her rear end in my face, and pin her ears back-a sure sign that she was about to kick me in the teeth. Once in Vermont I sat quietly on a hilltop waiting for the others to catch up. As I loosened my legs and dropped my feet out of the stirrups, Hope spun around for no good reason and dumped me off her side. I began to think her name was particularly apt, because you could only hope to catch her in a good mood and have a decent ride.

By 1989 I had progressed to the point where I could consider competing in combined training events. This aspect of the sport appealed to me because it has three phases: dressage, stadium jumping, and cross-country jumping. The challenge is to develop such a strong bond between horse...

Edition details

• Publisher: Random House Large Print
• Publication date: 1998
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0375702342
• ISBN 13: 9780375702341
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 384