Nova Scotia/Nunavut Command of The Royal Canadian Legion www.ns.legion.ca 45 of the speeches, is finally pulled aside to reveal Trevor Greene who is seated on a high stool, his legs and low back hugged tightly by the mechanical appendages of an exoskeleton. Debbie – now Trevor’s wife – stands in front of him gripping a walker. A spotter behind him holds onto the exoskeleton. Without a word or ceremony, Trevor's lower body jerks into motion. His feet hit the floor, and his lower back is driven straight to the mechanical whirr of the machine. Trevor takes hold of the walker in front of him, and, guided by his wife, does what no one ever thought he would do again: he walks. His steps are awkward and uncanny. They are the exaggerated and machine-like movements of an automaton. Trevor himself would later describe the feeling as that of a doll having its limbs moved about by an outside force. He walks across the stage slowly, driven on by the motors of the exoskeleton. His mouth is set firmly in concentration, and his eyes stare ahead almost unblinking. Effort is clearly drawn across his face. He reaches the end of the stage, and, as he turns, a slow smile breaks through the icy façade of his concentration. He’s not smiling for the camera. That smile isn’t for us. It’s a personal, self-satisfied smile. It's amazing to see. After Trevor gets back into his wheelchair, he is given the opportunity to speak. It's a short speech, but it’s easily the most powerful of the afternoon. His voice cracks with emotion as he describes the way that Royal Canadian Legion volunteers raised over 100,000 dollars to buy the exoskeleton he now sports. He tells the audience, “In a crisis, the right people come at the right time.” His life is a testament to this principle. The right trauma-surgeons were on staff to keep him alive in Kandahar nine years ago, the right neurosurgeon was there to give him hope that he might walk again, the right organization was there is raise the money needed for this modern miracle to take place, and the right partner – Debbie – was there beside him through all the long days of his painfully slow recovery. Trevor himself was also the right person. It would have been all too easy for him to give up hope—to accept his limitations and live out the rest of his life in relative ease. Doctors advised him to do this for years, and on his darkest days I'm sure that he was tempted. But he has never given up on his pursuit of recovery. In his short walk across the stage, he proved what the will of one man can accomplish when combined with the marvels of cutting edge technology and the generosity of thousands of everyday people. In his speech, Dr. D'Arcy said that Trevor's goal was to walk to Everest base-camp. Some may think this overly ambitious, but Trevor has made a habit of proving doubters wrong. He really is the “Iron Soldier”—not because of the exoskeleton strapped to his limbs, but because of his resolve. The iron is in his heart. Iron Soldier Continued . . .
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