Bradley Carlson's muscular dystrophy causes brutal leg cramps that leave him crumpled on the floor. He can't climb stairs and curbs, and sometimes he can't even move. But none of that stopped him from putting his best foot forward and walking through his home state of Wisconsin. He walked through 595 incorporated cities, trekking from Lake Michigan to the mighty Mississippi. During his journey, he experienced his share of falls and challenges, but he also met incredible people, enjoyed special moments, and witnessed the breathtaking beauty of his home state, including waterfalls, desert-like dunes along Lake Michigan, and picturesque mountaintops and forest views. Bradley didn't set out on this journey to raise money or hand out brochures. He simply did it to show himself and others that someone with muscular dystrophy can accomplish great things. You'll laugh, cry, meet new friends, and discover new places in this inspirational memoir about one man's refusal to give up while seeing Wisconsin 1 Step at a Time.
WISCONSIN 1 STEP AT A TIME
Taking Steps To Trample Muscular DystrophyBy Bradley CarlsoniUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 Bradley Carlson
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4620-6943-9Contents
Foreword..............................................................viiIntroduction..........................................................ixChapter 1 Epiphany...................................................1Chapter 2 The Background Story.......................................8Chapter 3 Wisconsin Step at a Time..................................20Chapter 4 Cities 1–100.........................................25Chapter 5 Cities 101–200.......................................67Chapter 6 Cities 201–300.......................................111Chapter 7 Cities 301–400.......................................163Chapter 8 Cities 401–453.......................................212Chapter 9 Cities 454–499.......................................242Chapter 10 Cities 500–579.......................................266Chapter 11 The Home Stretch: Cities 580–595.....................305Chapter 12 Coast-to-Coast Wisconsin...................................319Chapter 13 Reaching the Finish Line...................................329Appendix A: Perspectives..............................................351Appendix B: Muscular Dystrophy: What Is It?...........................384Appendix C: Useful Lists..............................................398Acknowledgments.......................................................421
Chapter One
Epiphany
Wisconsin 1 Step at a Time
It all started out as a bad day, when I was already in a bad mood—one of the worst of all time, to be sure. However, this day of the foul mood would soon become something completely different. Leaving the apartment, I intended to walk off my mood; it was almost noon on a warm and sunny summer day (the type of day that could change a person's mood if he gave it a chance). The plan was a short walk downtown, perhaps through my old neighborhood, before returning home—maybe a two-mile stroll at the most. It would not be as simple as planned.
Gena, a local Pardeevillian, was leaving her home and heading to work—or was it leaving work for her other job? I'm not actually sure. She was following a typical route, probably one she had followed thousands of times before and will follow at least a thousand more. What she couldn't know was that she was about to change my life forever. At first, she was about fifty yards in front of me, and I doubt she even saw me. She was on a roll, heading down to the store her family runs and moving so quickly that I could not possibly keep up. Boy, was she moving fast! Steadily she pulled away, but I continued to follow her all the way to the store. I rounded the street corner a block away just as she was entering the doors. I never caught up to her, and although we never said a word that day, there was a communication between us so noticeably clear that it was almost tangible.
Since that first moment when I noticed her on that sunny day, I have looked back on that single second of life with almost spiritual reverence. My faith in all humankind was neatly restored over the next special hours. It was a moment of eternal splendor when she came into sight, when the whole world stopped, turned around, and looked at me in a completely new way.
You see, my life was not heading where I had planned. My job, which I had thought was a lifelong career, had gone away to China. I was back in school, trying to learn a completely new profession. Sadly, like those of so many others, my marriage had fallen apart and would soon end in divorce. I would have to move on, leaving the life I had cherished behind. It was a time when I felt completely alone in the world. I was temperamental and moody, and I just did not feel good about anything. I was intensely unhappy.
Maybe even you have been there? Have you felt like you were at the bottom of the well of despair and that even the grass was against you? Questions many of us ask ourselves were prevailing in my mind: what am I here for? What is the meaning of life? I was searching for direction, seeking my place in this world and answers to questions that were unknown to my conscious mind.
I can remember things in my life both good and bad; my first time driving and that first accident; going through college with As and yet failing high school Spanish. I'll never forget my first day of school, my wedding day, and all sorts of other momentous events. Yet I cannot think of any one second in life that is so crystal clear as that exact moment ... and I don't know exactly why.
When you learn about my moment, you probably will not see its importance. You may find me to be crazy or a little disturbed. But that is all right. You probably will never grasp how it could possibly be so important, but I do not mind because it is my epiphany, not yours.
Epiphany? What the heck is he talking about? What did happen? He saw a girl on the street and never said a word. There wasn't even eye contact, was there? What exactly is an epiphany anyway? These are all good questions.
Have I mentioned I have Becker's muscular dystrophy (MD)? Have I told you that I incessantly fall down with no good reason why? Have I brought up the brutal leg cramps that leave me crumpled on the floor, unable to move? How about not being able to climb curbs or stairs without railings so that there are many places I wish to visit that I simply cannot? So you say I have not once brought up Becker's or neuromuscular disease? I can't believe we've come this far without talking about my life's blessing.
His blessing? A disease is his blessing? This man must be certifiably mad.
Did I say anything about the tears in gym class when I could no longer stand on my legs from the pain? Did I tell you about the times I have been trapped in a chair at a restaurant because I picked the wrong spot to sit down? Surely I told you how often I fall down in a crowd and become embarrassed when nobody can help me get up? Oh, come on. Surely I must have shared the best thing that has happened in my life, my good fortune, and my gift?
Good fortune? Best thing in his life? OK, it's settled. Let's close the book now because this guy is completely off his rocker. Or is he?
I am sure I brought up rarely going to movies because I cannot get out of the seats to go home. Well, at the very least, I must have mentioned how much I enjoy getting funny looks from ushers and ticket salespeople when I ask for a seat without steps to it at events. How about mentioning that winter snow and ice cause five months of near-hibernation each year? No? Well, then, I must not have told you about my dear friend and lifelong companion, Becker's MD.
Yes, it is official, he is cracked. He is totally out of his mind, and we need to get away from this book now. His disease is a dear friend and companion. It is probably time to put this book away. Or we could read more to see what other bizarre things might come out of him.
I can say that mental illness is not what this book is about. There are times that may be questionable, but so far, I am not under psychiatric care. Talking to such doctors can be very helpful, but it is a subject not at all associated with this story, though at times you may wonder about me. But, then, what is the book about?
Oh, OK, let's think ... he said it's about his epiphany. He saw a girl. It was a sunny day. It was ...
June 2001. I didn't tell you it was June 2001? Oh, yes, that helps, right?
It was a warm and sunny June day in 2001, he saw a girl, it was the most important second in his life ... hey, wait a second. June rhymes with moon, right? There are songs like this. Guy and girl, month of June, the moon, they made no eye contact but communicated without a word being said. All those details—it must be about love. Is this a story about love? That's it, this must be a love story. It's all a blessing because he fell in love. But MD, what does that have to do with love? Maybe she has it, too, and maybe they share something? Oh, I got it! It's all about a guy and a girl with a common disease who persevered and fell in love! That's it! It's all about love!
You are 100 percent correct ... and all wrong at the same time.
This story is about love in many ways, however, not in the way you may be thinking. Gena doesn't have MD. It is not a story about her; in fact, I hardly knew her at all. I wish I did, though; she is quite amazing and may not even recognize it.
There was something about that special moment in time maybe only I could see. Others may have witnessed it and yet never really saw what it meant. What I saw in that instant, what suddenly became clear as day, what was absolutely full of clarity in the speck of time, was . . .
Did I tell you Gena is in a wheelchair? I don't even know why she is in one, but that really is not important to this tale. You see, Gena being in the wheelchair doesn't mean anything at all, and yet it means everything to this story. I have known her from a distance for about twenty years, and she has always been in the wheelchair over that time. Do you wonder if I feel guilty not knowing why? Yes, I do, but it's not something you just ask a person without feeling rude. Knowing why is just not important to this story. What is important is Gena's attitude and perseverance. I have never seen her hide from life just because of the chair. Her family owns a furniture store and a funeral home in Pardeeville, and she works at both very professionally. She drives a van, and you see her all over town in her chair. She lives her life in a way she should be proud of and is a true inspiration to many, including me. This story is about inspiration. This is also a story about love, attitude, and perseverance.
It is a story about that moment in my life. In that sterling, perfect moment in time, I reached my epiphany. There I was, down in the dumps and sad, unhappy about countless things, among them my MD. Going through my mind was stuff like, I could have been so much happier if I had been normal physically, my life would have been better if I hadn't had such physical difficulties, blah, blah, blah.
Life is just not fair. Why was I not able to run and jump like so many other kids growing up? I am a good person; this should not be happening to me. Why did it happen to me? Woe is me. Oh, poor me ...
Bam!
Epiphany.
Sure, there were millions of things I could not do that other, more able-bodied people take for granted. They do not see how fortunate they are. But I, too, was taking a million things for granted. I was able to get up and move every day without needing a wheelchair. Gena was able to take what life gave her and remain happy and useful; what was my problem?
I was right there behind her on my feet, walking without a crutch, without much pain, and yet I had the nerve to feel down. I could still walk, talk, see, and hear. I was able to remember most things and communicate with others very easily. I was capable of enjoying tasty food and seeing the magical world around me. There was no scarcity of my ability to hear music and listen to fabulous sounds like children's laughter. What was there to feel bad about? Heck, I had a roof over my head and a few dollars in my pocket, I enjoyed love from my family and friends, and it was a beautiful, sunny day. So how could I ever be down in the dumps?
Now that I've realized that life is good and that I have no reason to be sad, what should I do about it? What could I do to get rid of the bad mood and do something with my life? You are wondering why I had to do anything, right? Why not? I had blessings that should be shared with others. But what could I do that would benefit those who were not nearly as lucky as me? Many people are a lot worse off physically than me, many of whom share my exact disease. So what was my epiphany? Well, it involved a lot of thinking over the next few hours, but it only took a millisecond to see the epiphany.
My epiphany was that life is good for me, no matter my circumstances. It sounds simple, and it was; however, there was more to it than that. God granted me this life, and its blessings could be used in assistance to others, to help them feel blessed as well. There were people who could benefit from what I had to offer. In the process of helping them, I would be able to find a personal inner peace. The epiphany was both complicated and simple.
My epiphany was about peace, about loving other people, and about understanding myself. It came from the attitude, perseverance, and inspiration a young woman displayed just by going about her normal life. The epiphany led to a journey we call Wisconsin 1 Step at a Time, and that is how I discovered the wonders of Wisconsin, which I now share with you.
In the hours after seeing Gena, I walked all over Pardeeville, through the entire downtown. My walk continued completely around Park Lake and even out to Highway 44. Standing there at the farthest point in town from my home, I should have been scared. I should have been thinking that I'd never make it back. But I was confident I could make it back home. When I made it to the high school, I was totally out of energy with a mile left to walk. There should have been some panic in me that I would fall right there and nobody would be around to help—but my epiphany drove me onward. Recent history had suggested that my body was not built for this kind of distance; MD would never allow me to go so far. It took longer to cover the last mile than the rest of the walk combined. Many times, I was barely able to take a few steps without a break, but I kept going. I was steadily getting closer to home and was determined to cover the distance without help.
I would learn later that the walk was seven miles, several miles longer than any walk I had the nerve to have attempted in years. Gena inspired me to walk farther than I even thought was possible. By the time I staggered through that last mile home, I knew what I wanted to do.
The exhilaration of this walk helped a vision take shape in my mind. If I could walk this far in Pardeeville, why couldn't I walk everywhere else in Wisconsin? Why not walk every downtown to see what they had in common and how they are different? Such a goal would create a fun adventure and a chance to meet many people. The undertaking would be a worthy story to tell others, an adventure we could write about and share. We could write a book and use it as an instrument to raise money to cure MD. Growing up, I missed out on many things because of MD, and I certainly didn't want other people to have things taken away from them. I could not stand by watching as MD ruined more lives, paralyzed otherwise healthy adults, and killed children. This was it—this was a way to do something about MD. I had a way to fight back, and I fell more and more in love with this new plan because of this line of attack.
The plan was to walk in every Wisconsin community before I even knew how many there were. I would find people to walk with me in every place so they could share the adventure and attest to me being there. There would be pictures and interesting stories gathered along the way. I would write about this journey in a book. The book you hold in your hands was a part of that plan—but it would not be that simple.
Chapter Two
The Background Story
Beginnings
To tell the story of where we went, first we must describe where we have been. What brought me to the point at which a great journey across Wisconsin became a good idea? Where was the there that got me here? To tell the story best, we should begin with my childhood.
I was born and raised in Madison, Wisconsin. I was the last of six children, born many years after my next youngest sibling. As a young child, everything was fairly routine. I did the things infants do: I learned to crawl, sit up, feed myself, and walk. However, though my development at first seemed commonplace, somewhere along the line, I started to get up a little differently than other kids.
At about the same time as I was experimenting with my first steps, in the midst of the Vietnam War, my oldest brother David enlisted in the army. On Veteran's Day, November 11, 1971, he was off to boot camp to be trained as a field surveyor. He struggled with boot camp, but he made it through. It wasn't until basic training that the real surprise came: my brother hit the instructor with his gun. Not intentionally, but by accident. On a long run with his gun in hand, David fell. The instructor ran to David and grabbed his arm to pull David to his feet when the gun hit the instructor hard in the chin. There had been other falls, but this time, the instructor told David that it was time to see the doctor as he had had enough of this crap.
David's visit to the doctor began an interesting chain of events. The doctor worked on finding a way to test David's muscles. He invented a clamp to keep the muscle stretched while he removed a sample for biopsy. His invention earned the doctor a promotion for its novelty, while David was delivered a diagnosis of Becker's MD, rendering him ineligible for army service. The army felt compelled to state that David's service had not caused the ailment, as if a genetic disease could have been the army's fault. Yet his superiors were impressed that David had made it so far through army training with MD: when his last day came, he had served eight months and three days—nothing short of amazing.
MD had now become part of the Carlson family. I started school, and it was in first grade physical education class that physical issues began to appear—my legs became severely cramped if I tried to run for an extended period of time. So it was off to the doctor to see what was happening with me. Because David had already been diagnosed with MD, the doctor had a starting point: he examined me and announced that I, too, had the muscular ailment. It would have taken a biopsy to determine the specific type of MD, which we declined, and although the doctor believed it was probably the same type as David's, we were uncertain.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from WISCONSIN 1 STEP AT A TIMEby Bradley Carlson Copyright © 2012 by Bradley Carlson. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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