The Story
The Accident
In early January 1981, I was home for Christmas break during my senior year of college. After going to Ft. Worth to see the Dallas Blackhawks play the Ft. Worth Texans, I returned to Mad Hatters, my old watering hole at that time. From there, I took off for my parents house in North Dallas. Being a starving college student, I once again found my gas tank on empty. After stops at two gas stations that had just closed, I finally ran out of gas on the loop entrance ramp to 635W from 75N. I then hitchhiked to find a gas can and returned to fill my tank. The next thing I remember is looking up from the pavement and realizing I had been crushed between two cars. I couldn’t move and knew that both of my legs were broken. Hit and Run!!!
In early January 1981, I was home for Christmas break during my senior year of college. After going to Ft. Worth to see the Dallas Blackhawks play the Ft. Worth Texans, I returned to Mad Hatters, my old watering hole at that time. From there, I took off for my parents house in North Dallas. Being a starving college student, I once again found my gas tank on empty. After stops at two gas stations that had just closed, I finally ran out of gas on the loop entrance ramp to 635W from 75N. I then hitchhiked to find a gas can and returned to fill my tank. The next thing I remember is looking up from the pavement and realizing I had been crushed between two cars. I couldn’t move and knew that both of my legs were broken. Hit and Run!!!
My Saviors
After trying to flag down numerous passing cars, a young lady slowed to ask me if I was OK. Obviously I was not. She then spent the next half hour holding me while trying to get someone else to call an ambulance. (The cell phone was not yet an accessory). My Guardian Angel, as I would later call her, was named Sherrie Hawes. Finally, I was transported to Medical City hospital where I would spend the next 18 hours in surgery. Over the next 3 weeks and about a dozen surgeries trying to save my legs, it became evident that my right leg could not be saved. At this traumatic time in my life, something wonderful happened. One of my nurses knew an amputee and asked them to come visit me. I was hours away from amputation and thought my life was over. When this fella walked in my room and lifted his pant leg and said “Hi.” He proceeded to tell me about his life and how he was able to do just about everything that everyone else could do, including riding in rodeos. Wow, I thought, I can do this! (Remember this moment for later).
The Prosthesis
After a little over 30 surgeries, big and small, I was finally ready for a prosthesis. I had delayed this process after shattering my right femur and kneecap trying to carry a 6-pack up a flight of stairs while on crutches. (Hence my limp). So I was fitted with a prosthesis and off I went. I was amazed at how easy I adapted to walking and driving. Of course, being in my early 20’s helped. My life had changed in a way, but not a bad way. I had realized during this experience that I had a tremendous support group of friends and colleagues. I learned so much about caregiving and life that I could not wait to take on the rest of my life. I would later realize that this accident turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to me. I was one of the lucky ones, surrounded by high school friends, college friends, work friends and a loving family. It was easy for me. But what about the person who loses a limb and does not have that kind of support?
The "Drinking Man Logo"
Having now realized how I wanted to REALLY experience life, I had become a regular at the annual Mardi Gras shenanigans in New Orleans. After spending 2 years wrestling Bourbon St. on crutches, I finally had my first Mardi Gras on “2 feet." It was 1984 and the coldest Fat Tuesday in modern history. Being too cold to hit the streets, we settled into our favorite bar at 8 am.
By mid afternoon I had met a Scottish sailor who was in port from his ship. He asked “Why the limp?” I rolled up my pant leg and he replied…”You ever drink out of that thing Mate?”
So for the next 10 hours, I became the hit of the bar while my leg went around and around filled with Scotch, Tequila, Tuaca, Beer or whatever else we could get the bartender to pour into it. This became the origin of what would become Legapalooza. As the years passed, “drinking out of the leg” was saved for birthdays, trips or special occasions. A new prosthesis would result in all-day parties called “The Changing of the Leg." T-shirts and hats were printed and handed out, but I needed a logo.
So on a dive trip with friends to the island of Bonaire, a picture was taken of me drinking out of my leg on a dock with the sun setting behind me. This shadowy silhouette would become the template for my “Drinking Man Logo." So for the last 17 years, I have printed thousands of hats, t-shirts and posters using this logo. It is my way of saying “having this inconvenience is OK."
By mid afternoon I had met a Scottish sailor who was in port from his ship. He asked “Why the limp?” I rolled up my pant leg and he replied…”You ever drink out of that thing Mate?”
So for the next 10 hours, I became the hit of the bar while my leg went around and around filled with Scotch, Tequila, Tuaca, Beer or whatever else we could get the bartender to pour into it. This became the origin of what would become Legapalooza. As the years passed, “drinking out of the leg” was saved for birthdays, trips or special occasions. A new prosthesis would result in all-day parties called “The Changing of the Leg." T-shirts and hats were printed and handed out, but I needed a logo.
So on a dive trip with friends to the island of Bonaire, a picture was taken of me drinking out of my leg on a dock with the sun setting behind me. This shadowy silhouette would become the template for my “Drinking Man Logo." So for the last 17 years, I have printed thousands of hats, t-shirts and posters using this logo. It is my way of saying “having this inconvenience is OK."
The Article
In 2004, James Ragland, a writer for the Dallas Morning News and sometime breakfast buddy at The Oasis, decided to write an article about my attempt trying to find the woman who saved my life in 1981.
Sherrie Hawes was a name my mom had written down the day after my accident, but after my long stay in intensive care, we had never properly thanked her for what she did.
Two wonderful meetings came out of this article. First, I finally met my Guardian Angel. Like most angels, she did not like the publicity and did not want all the attention. I am just so thankful I got a chance to meet her.
The second meeting to result from this article was with Ellen Fernandes and Sandy Siebert. After reading my story in the Dallas Morning News, these women came to Milo's to tell me about their amputee support group. I told them “Thanks, but I am fine. I don’t need a support group."
They laughed and said “You may not need us but we need you." So now I got it. Here was my chance to give back and be like the fella that visited me on the eve of my amputation. So I joined the Dallas Amputee Network and became a Peer Visitor, someone who is trained to visit hospitals for amputees and their families. Knowing what that did for me, I couldn’t have been more excited to be able to do this for someone else.
Sherrie Hawes was a name my mom had written down the day after my accident, but after my long stay in intensive care, we had never properly thanked her for what she did.
Two wonderful meetings came out of this article. First, I finally met my Guardian Angel. Like most angels, she did not like the publicity and did not want all the attention. I am just so thankful I got a chance to meet her.
The second meeting to result from this article was with Ellen Fernandes and Sandy Siebert. After reading my story in the Dallas Morning News, these women came to Milo's to tell me about their amputee support group. I told them “Thanks, but I am fine. I don’t need a support group."
They laughed and said “You may not need us but we need you." So now I got it. Here was my chance to give back and be like the fella that visited me on the eve of my amputation. So I joined the Dallas Amputee Network and became a Peer Visitor, someone who is trained to visit hospitals for amputees and their families. Knowing what that did for me, I couldn’t have been more excited to be able to do this for someone else.
The Charity Event
A few years ago, a brunch conversation focused on my leg and the parties surrounding it. As the stories continued, someone mentioned that a “Leg Party” was way overdue. But it wasn’t time for a new prosthesis.
Well, the brainstorming began, and many Mimosas later, the name Legapalooza was born. Sunday Funday brunch became a strategy session for Legapalooza. It was agreed upon immediately that it should be a fundraiser. But for whom? Then I remembered the Dallas Amputee Network. What a perfect fit. This organization does so much locally for amputees and their families, working with so little money and help by the selfless, tireless and loving Ellen Fernandes. So there it was, Legapalooza was on. D.A.N. will now be able to continue to visit hospitals, have monthly support meetings and help many with their needs following amputation. Take it from me, you can’t put a price on what this is worth. It was the best thing that anyone could have done for me in my time of need. Let’s help do it for others.
Thanks my friends, Tommy
