Superman

One night in the early 80's I was walking with my friends on the upper west side of Manhattan when I suddenly saw a familiar face walking quickly and carrying the Sunday New York Times. I double took the way you do when you think you saw someone you know and then I noticed it was someone I knew. Although, much to my naive teenage feelings of owning the world, the person I saw didnt know who the hell I was and I think I actually scared him. "Hey, thats Superman." I blurted out to my friends loud enough for him to hear. "And your a jerk." Scowled the man of steel. At first I was in shock; he looked more like Clark Kent then Superman; then I was angry; who is he to call me a jerk! then, a couple of hours later, I understood. Here was a man walking with a newspaper on a saturday night; clearly trying to disappear into the New York City life where no one bothers you if your famous, (they ussually just smile or nod) and here I was speaking loudly and annoucing his presence. Throughout the years I have told the story of how Superman saw right through me and called me a jerk. he was right; I was a jerk. many years later I heard the bulletin on 1010 WINS in New York. Superman was hurt in a horse accident and was not expected to survive. Later it was reported he would survive but would be a quadripolegic. It was unbelievable; superman...unable to be super...it was a quick reminder to all of us, "jerks" of just how vulnerable we all are. But Christopher Reeve was a bigger and better man then Superman. Superman did his good deeds and then turned away and hid behind glasses and a nerdy haircut. Christopher Reeve was quickly surrounded by friends...friends who took it upon themselves to be there for him. Not just when he was super, but when he was the best of all his characters...Human Being. His wife is every mans dream of a wife; there for you through thick and thin; holding you when you cant stop shaking and giving you the will to live when all you want to do is die. Superman had nothing on Christopher Reeve. Christopher Reeve swore that he would walk again. Christopher Reeve swore that he would stay in shape and breath on his own. He did. Imagine, a star the magnitude of Mr. Reeve, totally unable to move; going to capital hill; using a tube to help him breath and then speaking in a voice louder then Pavarotti's; "I represent nearly 400,000 spinal cord-injured Americans and millions more around the world who now have a legitimate reason to believe that the day will come when they will rise out of these wheelchairs. Scientists are successfully exploring one of the last great mysteries of medicine, the frontier of inner space, the diseases of the brain and the central nervous system." His voice was stronger then a speeding bullet, stronger then a racing train...today when we are all in a postion where we feel weakened and unable to even take our next step...we will look up into the sky and not see a bird, a plane or superman...we will see a man standing up from his chair and walking home.