The one thing that struck me more than anything else, and perhaps more than anything in a long while, was the story of Billy Cruthers. Billy was an 8 year old boy who contracted polio back in the day. Like many others, he needed the help of an iron lung. The Fort Wayne Fire Department took the task of dealing with iron lungs in the city, which was especially brave since no one yet knew how the disease spread. So the firefighters helped Billy with his too. They became his friend. They helped him with the iron lung, and did many other things for him, and they even stopped by just to see their friend Billy. When he graduated high school, his graduation cards failed to be printed, so the firefighters went to his house and climbed the roof to announce via a bullhorn that Billy had graduated.
But the saddest thing about it was that Billy never recovered. He spent 17 years almost exclusively isolated to that machine. And then he died at 24, just slightly older than me.
I am amazed that Billy graduated high school, even though he was stuck in that thing. And that was when high school was hard. Or harder, anyway.
