Time out for a friend
OSU’s Hawk appreciates quality time spent with quadriplegic schoolmate
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Ken Gordon
THE COLUMBUS DISPATCH
CENTERVILLE, Ohio — Side by side they sit, talking about family and sports — typical stuff for two young men, buddies and former classmates at Centerville High School.
The only difference between them is that moments earlier, A.J. Hawk walked through a front door that Mark MacDonald never will.
That doesn’t matter one bit, though, to Hawk and MacDonald. It does not matter that Hawk is a star athlete, an All-American linebacker at Ohio State, and MacDonald is a quadriplegic.
The only thing that matters is that they are friends. So they sit and talk, with the warm glow of candles and sounds of Christmas music cheering up a cold December day.
"(Jon) Kitna is starting today," Hawk reminds MacDonald, a big Cincinnati Bengals fan.
Moments later, the two are lost in conversation, comparing notes on Kings Island rides they enjoy.
"Have you ever ridden Delirium?" MacDonald asks. Hawk shakes his head.
This is the way the world is supposed to work, of course, but too rarely does. MacDonald’s foster father, Norman Hassertt, is well aware of that fact.
"A.J. is so well-grounded," said Hassertt, 64, a pastor with a twinkling smile and a warm handshake. "With all of his success, I am immensely impressed with the fact that he focuses on those who supported him along the way. So many people forget that."
Said Hawk: "Around Mark, I never really have any awkwardness. People might think from looking at him that his mind is messed up, but it’s not. His mind is fine — he just can’t control his body that much."
MacDonald, 21, came to Norman and Audrey Hassertt in 1995. His parents were alcohol and drug abusers, which might partly explain his disability. MacDonald can lift his arms and reposition himself in his chair, but he has full use of only one finger on his left hand, which he uses to control his motorized wheelchair.
His mother abandoned him as an infant, and his father, now dead, could not — or would not — keep up with the constant help Mark requires to eat, bathe or use the bathroom.
Mark spent a year in a Dayton institution before being placed with the Hassertts, who have taken in seven foster children — most of them with some form of disability — in the past 32 years.
"I believe our purpose in life is to nurture each other so we can all fulfill our God-given human potential," Norman Hassertt said. "The way we view Mark is not on the basis of what he is not able to do, but on what he is able to do."
To that end, MacDonald has been on cruises to the Caribbean as well as water-skiing and kayaking. He has sky diving on his wish list.
A few spills while on those adventures have not deterred him. He is upbeat and witty by nature.
"I’d go back in a minute," he says. "I’ll do anything I can do, really. I figure if I die, I had fun, I didn’t die in misery."
MacDonald also loves sports, particularly football. Norman Hassertt said MacDonald gets so worked up watching a game, "it’s like he’s playing the game in his chair. At the end, he’ll be soaking wet with sweat."
MacDonald plays video football games. He names a player Mark Mac-Donald and blesses his virtual self with the highest possible speed and power ratings.
He mentions a talented running back he saw crush Centerville in a playoff game recently: Mister Simpson of Cincinnati Colerain.
"He’s headed to Michigan," MacDonald says to Hawk, "so you can pound the crap out of him next year."
Hawk and MacDonald met in middle school when an assistant football coach recognized Mac-Donald’s love of the sport and invited him to practice.
Soon, MacDonald and his wheelchair became a fixture on the sidelines and in the locker room of the Centerville Elks. The players welcomed him.
"There have even been years when he has taken the last lap around the field with the seniors after the final home game," Centerville coach Ron Ullery said.
When it came time for Mac-Donald to graduate, though, most of the Elks players drifted off to their own lives. MacDonald sees them occasionally, such as at homecoming games.
MacDonald feared that Hawk and Hawk’s older brother, Ryan, who just finished his last season as an Ohio University quarterback, would fade out of his life, as well.
"I figured they would go on, be successful and forget everything else," MacDonald said. "A lot of people do."
But that didn’t happen with the Hawks. They stayed in touch, both through e-mail and by stopping by the house whenever they were home from school.
Keith Hawk, their father, attributes his sons’ behavior partly to the fact that they grew up around a person with disabilities. An aunt suffers from Down syndrome and requires oxygen.
"They have understood since a very young age that there are handicaps but that doesn’t make people weird or different," Keith Hawk said. "Some people just caught a different break than you did. Honor them as a person and recognize what impact you can make in their lives."
And vice versa. For while an e-mail or a visit from A.J. or Ryan brightens MacDonald’s day, the Hawk sons have learned that being friends with MacDonald has affected them, as well.
"The biggest thing I get from him is if I feel like I had a bad day or something hurts, I think about what he’s going through," A.J. said. "It takes so much work just to get him out of his house if he wants to do something. I realize that I can’t complain about practice or some workout I have to do.
"He’d give anything just to be able to do that for one day."
Hawk has to go. Because the Buckeyes will be in San Antonio for Christmas, the Hawks have a family celebration planned for the afternoon.
He rises to leave and squeezes MacDonald’s shoulders as he says goodbye.
In a few days, he will be in the Alamodome, playing the fast, violent game that both he and MacDonald love.
MacDonald will be home watching, cheering for Hawk and knowing that someday soon, his friend will walk through that front door again.
"He means a heck of a lot to me," MacDonald said. "If he stays the way he is, we’ll be fine."
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