His own hands

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Marty Dufrene. Ths name might not mean anything to the average person, but, this name, this wonderful person, is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. My dad has touched many people's lives, including my own, since his young years as a boy scout, to running out of the tunnel in Death Valley, to becoming a quadriplegic.

It started when he was young; he was very independent and motivated. He never wanted to fail. If he didn't get something the first time he would continue until he would succeed. He always said, "Do your best. If you fail, it's not the end of the world. Just try again.

When my dad was a young boy his dream was to be in Sports Illustrated, but one thing was holding him back. His doctors told him he would never be able to play sports. He was born ten weeks premature, and the doctors said his bones were too fragile for intense pressure. Despite this news, my dad went on to play football throughout his high school career. He won many awards and was offered a scholarship to play at L.S,U. This is when the late Coach Charles McClendon came into my family's lives. Today, the way my dad looks at life is because of this great man.

My father stood at six foot four inches nearing three hundred pounds. He played center in high school and L.S.U. football. He was a big man, muscular and handsome. He had a dirty blond buzz cut with a slight receding hair line. His face was stern with his blue eyes, wide nose, and thick mustache to cover his fat upper lip.

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After his college years were over or family moved to Dallas so my dad could attend chiropractic school. Our life was finally coming together, until that one fateful day in June of 186. My father and some of his classmates had a little party to welcome the new freshmen. Everyone was having a great time, until two of my dad's friends decided to try to tackle this big six foot four inch guy into the pool. My dad flew into the pool and hit his head on the bottom. He couldn't move. His friends rushed him to the hospital andm y mother and I met them there. After many long hours of waiting, the doctor finally came out and gave us the devastating news. His spinal cord was severed and he shattered vertebras C5 and C6. He would be paralyzed for the rest of his life. No more running, playing sports, or holding his little irl. His entire life fell apart within a few seconds. His outlook on life changed dramatically. He was no longer optimistic, and he didnt think his life was worth living anymore. At the ripe age of twenty-six, my dad was paralyzed. I was only fourteen months old at the time, but, strangely, I remember some thing from this day.

After a few months in the hospial, my father was finally able to go home to Louisiana for a weekend. As he was lying in a hospital bed in my grandmother's living room, the phone rang. It was Coach Mac. He told him to keep his winning attitude. After that phone call my dad started to look at life like he used to. He went from wanting to give his life up, to wanting to make something of his life again. Even though he has no use of his hands, he went back to school and became a teacher. After a few years of teaching, he was approached by the Sheriff of Lafourche Parish to run one of the police stations. My dad quit teaching to move on to something better. At one time he thought he wouldn't be able to do anything again, and now he was running an entire section of the Sheriff's Office.

I was growing up, and my dad didn't always seem like the nicest guy towards me. He was very intimidating. When I would do something wrong he would sit be down and have a "talk" with me. Most of the time the "talk" would turn into an all out brawl. Even though he was restricted to a wheelchair, he still scared me when he was mad. Just sitting there with him looking at me with his piercing blue eyes that could cut through steel would scare me. One time I forgot to do the dishes. He and my mother came home from work and he was already in a bad mood. He started screaming for me to get downstairs. I came down the stairs, and immediately I knew I was in trouble. I said, "Hey, Daddy."

"Sit down!" he uttered in a strong, grouchy voice. I sat down already almost weeping like a little puppy.

He asked,"Didn't you forget to do something today?"still being stern.

I muttered

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