This is Ron with your motivational message:
Ed is one of those guys that when you meet him you like him instantly. Who would have known that my buddy would pass so swiftly. He was the major brains and ingenuity behind the quad squad. He was the guy that would fix things and not complain. Ed could take care of just about anything. Of course he had a car that was similar. But it was a 67’ yellow Camaro, with a corvette motor and 4,000 watts stereo. “That’s the one I want to drive.” I told him. The 68’ firebird belonged to a friend named Ron Phillips. It was he who developed the Quad Squad team which included Ed. I remembered the first time I drove the firebird, I had not seen Ed show much emotion. He was kind of a man’s man. But Ed actually grabbed my head and kissed me on the cheek out of excitement. He was proud to be a part of allowing a quadriplegic to drive for the first time. It was probably historically the first time somebody had driven a 67’ firebird with just the use of his teeth and head. I had a slight fender bender you might say, shortly after I successfully completed 2 laps around the track and topped out at 52 miles an hour. I ended the show in front of a few thousand people with a nice smoking burn out. Full of adrenaline and excitement I decided to take my family for a nice little drive around the parking lot.
It was there we had a mechanical error, I couldn’t apply the brakes. Time seemed to slow as I proceeded to crash into a red shiny sports car and no way to stop it. On top of wrecking the vehicle, it was also among the owner’s favorite. I did about five thousand dollars worth of damage and when it was all said and done it cost about ten thousand dollars to repair. Everyone went home with their tail between their legs, I felt terrible and so did Ed.
Soon after, Ed decided to come to my house from Portland to cheer me up and to hang out for a little inspiration himself. He reminded me that it was the ‘Hope Rod’ and the message behind the impossible- that all could do impossible things. Especially those wounded, young warriors coming home from recent wars. Ed encouraged me to continue on, and insured me that mechanically; there wouldn’t be the flaw I experience with no brakes. Because of Ed I ventured out on a flat desert in eastern Oregon. The dried up lake bed was located southeast of the Steens Mountain. The Alvord desert was like talcum powder and completely flat for miles. It only received about 7 inches of rain annually. The quad squad renewed their excitement and I said I was up for the task. My goal in the desert was to go 100 miles per hour. Long story short we completed the goal. It was an amazing feeling, empowering and energizing.
After completing the goal I realized that this was the last time I was going to get the opportunity to independently operate a car by myself. I decided to do something that was probably extremely dangerous to most. But I had decided to drive alone and my Squad dreadfully disagreed with my choice. It gave me feeling of freedom that most of us take for granted. I exceeded my original goal by 1-going 101 mph alone in the desert with my team and family behind me. It was a very powerful moment.
After all of the excitement of driving alone, I proceeded to do some ‘S’ Shapes with the car to further prove my unique ability to control the vehicle. In my last turn on a hard right my knee flopped over from the door to the steering wheel. It immediately jammed my leg under the steering wheel grinding a blister on my skin. Looking as though my leg would snap, I yelled dreadfully through the speaker phone attached to the squad on the other end to shut her down. The motor died instantly as they pushed the remote control switch. Not knowing what they would find, the forgiving dudes on the squad laughed as they moved my leg. I slowly drove it back, feeling once again on cloud nine. We were all elated about the event of the day, until that evening when I got home. My buddy asked my unaware wife if she would like to see the video. Sitting down, she thought she would be watch her husband driving with all precautions particularly after my crash. To my udder dismay, we watched the solo drive and my friend had put in the wrong tape. With lack of words to describe my wife’s reaction, let’s just say my consequence was worse than the crash that I had experienced on the first drive.
Ed showed some signs of illness shortly after we completed the 100 mph in the Alvord desert. Ed had lung cancer and it was serious. I visited him a few times in Portland, and he came to see me speak once. Each time I saw my friend, he was fading. The picture I share was two days before he passed. He made himself get out of bed in order to give me a hug. He loved me and I loved him. If it wasn’t for Ed I wouldn’t have completed the task. If it wasn’t for his inspirations I wouldn’t have driven the car that gave hope to thousands. That life is short so live it. Do your dream, and love your brother. Work as a team, and always complete the mission.
Ed, I thank you for being a brother and a friend. I miss you Ed and I am grateful for all of you friends that are still alive.
To your inspiration,
RON