“Since it happened when he was 2, he never really knew a different kind of life,” Reeve said of son Will (in ’95). “I don’t ever want him to feel obligated to me. ... You got to give more than you take.” Photo by: KEN REGAN / CAMERA 5 |
Once upon a time the Princeton native had stood 6'4" tall and, with his athletic poise, piloted yachts; with a chiseled face that was almost impossibly handsome, he embodied Superman in four movies, starting in 1978 at age 26. Leap across the years: Here is a middle-aged man strapped into a wheelchair, never able to live completely free from a respirator. This second Reeve, though, was the one who let loose: berated lawmakers, sought out scientists, raised money for stem-cell and other research and argued for insurance reform. He may even have established medical precedents. He regained physical sensations (including touch and smell) and even limited movements that defy medical wisdom.
"Chris had far greater challenges than I’ve faced, and faced them with a courage, intelligence and a dignity I can only aspire to," says friend Michael J. Fox, who has Parkinson’s disease. "If he could ever have walked, he would have walked over to help someone else get up."
What else? He spoke at the 1996 Oscars. He wrote two bestselling memoirs, directed TV movies (1997’s
In the Gloaming) and even acted (in a TV remake of
Rear Window, for which he won a Screen Actors Guild award, and
Smallville, the WB’s teenage Superman series).
