Reaching New Heights

Getting to the top in any sport is sometimes more about the journey than the arrival.

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Every champion has a mountain to climb, and the steeper and higher the mountain the more mental and physical strength is generally required to reach the top. Atlanta’s David Williams knows the difficulties of overcoming challenges to make it to the summit of wheelchair tennis.

Question: What was your greatest challenge in the A Division of the U.S. Open USTA Wheelchair Championships (held in St. Louis in September) last year?

Williams: I was in the semifinals and I hadn’t lost a set of tennis during the tournament. But in the second set of the semifinals, I lost and had to go to a third set. The count was three-all in the third set, and the pressure was mounting. I was down 30–15 on my serve, but I pulled through that set and won three consecutive games in the third set (6–3).

I didn’t know anything about my opponent, which was unusual because I knew just about everyone in wheelchair tennis. I knew he was an up-and-comer from Salt Lake City and a strong player because he’d beaten the No. 4 seed the day before, 6–0, 6–0. After that match, I went on to win my third U.S. Open, A Division.

Q: What does an A Division championship title mean?

W: There’s only one division higher than A—the Open Division, which is for professionals. I once played in that division, but when I started working more I dropped down one. In wheelchair tennis, there are five divisions: Open, A, B, C, and D.

Q: How long have you been playing wheelchair tennis?

W: I started playing when I was 17.

Q: How did you end up in a wheelchair?

W: I contracted a rare virus called transverse myelitis. No one knows where it comes from or how you get it.

Q: When did you know you had this virus?

W: I was living in Springfield, Mo., and had just turned 14. I rode my bike over to a friend’s house to play basketball when I suddenly started having severe chest pains. I decided to get on my bike and start pedaling the mile journey back home. When I got home I lay on the couch in pain for two hours. Then I started losing sensation from my chest to my toes, and I could feel myself slowly growing numb. My mom said, “Get up! We’re going to the hospital!” I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t. By the time we got to the hospital, I had no feeling in my legs.

Late that night an MRI confirmed I had transverse myelitis, a rare spinal-cord virus that causes paralysis. I learned that only one in 2.3 million individuals contracts it. Fortunately, the neurologist called in on my case was one of the most well-respected in the nation, and he was able to determine quickly I had this virus. However, he couldn’t tell us the outcome.

One-third of people with transverse myelitis regain all their bodily functions, one-third regain little function, and another third regain none at all. I’m one of the fortunate ones. I can stand and walk if I’m holding on to something. But functionally, I have to use a wheelchair to move around. The night the neurologist told us what to expect, he was noncommittal about my future. However, he did let us know there was a possibility I’d never walk again, which turned out to be the case for me.

Defining Moment

Q: What was the defining moment when you knew you’d probably never walk again?

W: When I went back to high school, I had crutches at first. I was 14 and had been very involved in sports, mainly basketball. All the guys I played with and competed against in junior high were now in basketball at the high school. After nearly a year I still believed one day I’d play basketball again. I was sitting at the bottom of the stairs at the gym watching my friends practice, and at that moment I realized I’d never play basketball again.

That was a difficult time in my life. From that moment I spent about four years trying to heal from that disappointment. Most people didn’t know I was dealing with this because I kept smiling and telling everyone I was fine while inside I was dealing with the fact that I’d never play basketball, walk, or run again. That was really tough. I just couldn’t get my mind wrapped around that idea. I went through a period of depression and anxiety because I didn’t know what my future held.

A trip to Disney World provides some special bonding time for son and father.

Q: How were you able to hang on through that four-year depression?

W: I have an amazing faith-based family who has always kept me pointed in the right direction and made me feel loved. They demonstrated their love by making me go to wheelchair basketball and tennis practice. They also introduced me to other new activities. They would tell me, “OK, so you can’t do some of the things you used to do the same way you used to do them, but there are other ways to do these things.”

My family was very proactive about my getting back into living life. I didn’t want to play wheelchair tennis. I had absolutely no interest in it. My mom said, “If you don’t like it, fine, but you’re going to try it.”

I ended up falling in love with tennis. Since then, it has been a major driving force in my life. Even 27 years after my mom made me try wheelchair tennis, the sport is still positively impacting my life. I’m grateful she made me learn the game of tennis. My family forced me out of my depression, although helping me do that took four years.

I found many people became interested in my prowess as an athlete. My self-confidence began to slowly return. I don’t think there was ever a defining moment when I said, “Wow! I’m not depressed anymore.” I just slowly crept out of that deep, dark hole and finally began to believe everything would be OK with my life. Through sports and social interaction with others, I came to believe my life and my future would be fine.

All in the Numbers

Q: What got you hooked on tennis?

W: I was in love with basketball. Unfortunately, the sport of wheelchair basketball has one major limiting factor. You’re at the mercy of a lot of other people. If you don’t have enough players to make a team, you can’t play. When you’re in a community like Springfield, my hometown, there isn’t a lot of opportunity to have a team or other squads to play.

One of the things I liked about wheelchair tennis was that you only had to find one other person who wanted to play. I learned I could be competitive, even with able-bodied players. So, there were more people I could compete with and against in tennis than there were in basketball.

My good friend in high school, Mark Thompson, was an excellent tennis player, and for some reason he decided to invest his time and talent in me. He had a tremendous amount of patience. He’d take me out every day to hit balls and practice. He’d work with me for hours, throwing balls and letting me hit them. Even though I wasn’t very good, he continued to work with me. As I improved, I continued to be encouraged to play more.

Q: Why did Mark continue to coach and teach you the game of tennis?

W: I remember the old adage, “You can’t have ten best friends.” To this day, I can say Mark was the best friend I ever had. I don’t really know how you explain a friendship like ours. He knew me before my illness, and he stuck with me after. When I went into a wheelchair, he never gave up on me. Most 14- and 15-year-olds wouldn’t know how to deal with a friend in a wheelchair.

Many of my friends withdrew from me in high school because they didn’t know what to say or do. In high school, young people have a lot to deal with, but Mark was always there for me and always by my side. He was my friend in every capacity. He drove me around, taught me tennis, and was one of those rare true friends you should count yourself fortunate to have. But during all my success, Mark got lost in the shuffle and never got credit for helping me become and achieving all I have in tennis. Had it not been for him, I don’t know that I would have had the success I’ve had in the world of tennis.

Q: What did you do after high school?

W: I was a teaching tennis pro. I taught professionally until I was 25. I traveled on tour and had people sponsoring me. I was blessed to be at the highest level of tennis. I taught in the National Junior Tennis League for underprivileged children and people with mental disabilities. 

After earning my degree in therapeutic recreation from Southern Illinois University, I worked at Shepherd Center in Atlanta where I had the opportunity to work with people of all ages who had been injured. I got to talk to those patients and help train and teach them and their families about what to expect after rehab.  

Sports not only can help to rebuild confidence and self-worth but also build your mind and your perception of the world and help you remember what’s really important in life. That’s why I went to college and studied therapeutic recreation. I also had a pushy brother who didn’t ask me if I was going to college but told me I was going.

Moving Forward

Q: What made you decide to go to college when you were 25?

W: My story gets really strange and wonderful at this point. I went to college on a basketball scholarship. Let me back up just a little. My brother is a smart guy. He has a PhD in neuropsychology, and he stayed on me about going to college. He was always saying, “Okay, teaching tennis is great and wonderful, but you need to get a college degree.”

One day I got a call from a man who had taken over as head coach at Southern Illinois University. He was in charge of the university’s wheelchair basketball program. He asked if I’d like to go to college without having to pay for it. So, I visited the college. I really liked it because it was one of the most accessible schools in the nation for wheelchair students. There were people going to school in their manual chairs like mine and in power chairs. Going to school there really helped me gain a lot of self-confidence and self-worth. People at that college accepted me.

Q: When did you decide to major in recreational therapy?

W: I knew before I entered college I wanted to have some type of vocation that helped people. I guess that’s one of the reasons I like coaching tennis. If I hadn’t contracted the virus that led to my being in a wheelchair, I never would have been interested in recreational therapy as a vocation.

Q: You were playing and coaching tennis and got a college basketball scholarship. You were good at both sports, so why continue with tennis instead of basketball?

W: Two factors helped me make that decision. When I went to work at Shepherd Center, I played on its wheelchair basketball team for one year. I finally decided I couldn’t compete at the highest level in basketball and tennis. I realized basketball was much tougher on my body than tennis. I’d been playing basketball in college for four years without a break. I thought I’d have more longevity in sports with tennis. And with tennis, I could play with able-bodied players as well as wheelchair users. But I wouldn’t have traded my college basketball career for anything.

Q: What’s in the future for you?

W:  I have a 5-year-old who just started kindergarten, and my wife and I have been married for nine years. I want to continue building myself professionally, because I love where I work. There’s an amazing atmosphere at UroMed, where I work as an outside sales representative, covering the southeastern territory, which includes Georgia, South Carolina, and Alabama. I’d like to go to the next level professionally, whatever that may be, and I want to continue to play tennis at an extremely high level for as long as I can.

One of the advantages of playing tennis is that even though I am 41, this sport’s not nearly as hard on my body as it would be if I were trying to play as an able-bodied athlete at the same age.  

Training keeps me in good shape and gives me a goal. That’s what I like about competition. You always can strive to be better, and by striving to be the best tennis player I can be, I stay much healthier than if I’m not competing and playing tennis. That’s my insurance policy. I’ve always been a competitor. I started playing basketball when I was 5. I was much like the youngster in the “Hoosiers” movie who had a basketball hoop in his backyard and shot baskets every day when he got home from school. I’ve never liked to lose, but I’m not a sore loser. And if I don’t do everything I can to try to win, I can’t live with myself.

Q: Why would you encourage anyone in a wheelchair to get involved in sports?

W: If you’ve liked or loved sports before your injury, then being involved in wheelchair sports is absolutely necessary. They gave me the awareness that my life wasn’t over after my illness. When I first realized I would be in a wheelchair, all I could think about was my limitations. However, through sports I learned I could rebuild my confidence and build solid relationships.  

My life was changed forever when I went to Southern Illinois University, because I saw what other people in wheelchairs could do. Through sports I learned all the things I could do, instead of concentrating on all the things I couldn’t do.

One of the things that helped me the most was when I learned I’d be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life, a physical therapist said to me, “David, there are some things you can’t do. But by the time you do all the things you can do, you won’t have any time to think about the things you can’t do.”

That is the philosophy of wheelchair sports. They give you the opportunity to learn and discover all you can do and see all the things that are possible. Wheelchair sports deliver the I-can attitude and erase the I-can’t attitude.

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