The Race

My Uncle Tommy wrote this poem when he was 25 years old, from a wheelchair, as a quadriplegic. Aptly, this is called The Race. He ran his race, and won. He inspired me when he was alive, and continues to do so from Heaven. Today would have been his 76th birthday. I will be competing in my first Sprint Triathlon on April 14, 2013. It's called the Angel's Race and you run for your 'angels' in heaven. I will have his name along with two other loved ones in Heaven on my arms when I compete. The angel beside him is his wife, my Aunt Honey, who went to be with him in Heaven on December 4, 2009. She stands beside him now up there as she always did during their 51 years of marriage. People like this are rare, I was blessed to know two of them.

Written by Thomas Savona

Born 3/31/1936 Died May 28, 2007

Quadriplegic since the age of 22

Wrote this poem at age 25

Former track and field athlete

Lived in Circleville, New York

He typed this poem with a mouthpiece



THE RACE



When he woke in the morning

And couldn't find the sun.

He thought he had lost

Before he'd begun.



He thought he was alone

And that was a shame

As if his mind, not his body

Was what was lame



But there was a woman

Who was always near

She built up hi8 courage

And tore down his fear



So when he turned to the world

That he had to face

It was she who helped him

To return to the Race



It was a new kind of race

With new rules to rule it

His heart was his engine

His mind was his tool kit



This troublesome race

With its troublesome pits

Was really a mighty

Race of Wits



And in this race

His only sin

Would be to lose

His will to win



So late at night

When he goes to bed

And all these thoughts

Pass through his head



He thanks God for the day

For everyday

And for everything that

Has come his way



Then, feeling pretty good

Almost gay

He prepares himself

For the race the next day



Thomas Savona and his victory over quadriplegia.