2008 Woodie Awards
Student goes for gold
Cindy Louie recovers from a tragic car accident and gets back to doing what she loves in hopes of making the Para-Olympics
Filippo Goodman
Issue date: 10/1/04 Section: Sports
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Cindy Louie rises three days a week at 6:30 in the morning. She boards the Route 93 southbound bus; the destination is the Shima Center at Delta College. The cold, crisp air is a mildly refreshing slap in the face as the groggy psyche trudges through another school week. The routine is not unlike thousands of other students who pour into the campus; the schedule is familiar, the story is not.
In the early-1980's, Louie was your standard anonymous Delta college student. She studied, worked, and dabbled in athletics. She was just another face in the crush of young adults strolling through the campus. The morning of July 27, 1981 arrived with little fanfare. As Louie hopped into her car, off to her job as a private contractor, little did she know that her life was about to take a sharp detour.
While traveling to work, a car slammed into the driver's side of her car, leaving Louie fighting for her life amid the twisted wreckage. Initially, Louie was brought to Lodi Memorial Hospital, where she lay in a coma for over a month. Soon, Louie was transferred to St. Francis Memorial hospital in San Francisco, a facility that was better equipped to handle severe head trauma victims. Louie would remain deep in a comatose state for the next five months. The parent-child bond and external stimulation penetrated the detachment Louie had with the outer world. She started to show signs of life, but the fight for a decent quality of life had just begun.
The next few years were a painful process of physical and mental rehabilitation, as Louie and her parents sought to piece together the shards of her shattered life. Everything had to be retaught. The baby steps were both literal and figurative as Louie progressed from wheelchair bound, to small steps with a walker, to eventually small, unassisted walks. Louie's athletic background was key, as well as a healthy dose of perspective.
"I went through a depression phase when I was still in my wheelchair, but my mom told me that there were people worse off than me," said Louie.
In the early-1980's, Louie was your standard anonymous Delta college student. She studied, worked, and dabbled in athletics. She was just another face in the crush of young adults strolling through the campus. The morning of July 27, 1981 arrived with little fanfare. As Louie hopped into her car, off to her job as a private contractor, little did she know that her life was about to take a sharp detour.
While traveling to work, a car slammed into the driver's side of her car, leaving Louie fighting for her life amid the twisted wreckage. Initially, Louie was brought to Lodi Memorial Hospital, where she lay in a coma for over a month. Soon, Louie was transferred to St. Francis Memorial hospital in San Francisco, a facility that was better equipped to handle severe head trauma victims. Louie would remain deep in a comatose state for the next five months. The parent-child bond and external stimulation penetrated the detachment Louie had with the outer world. She started to show signs of life, but the fight for a decent quality of life had just begun.
The next few years were a painful process of physical and mental rehabilitation, as Louie and her parents sought to piece together the shards of her shattered life. Everything had to be retaught. The baby steps were both literal and figurative as Louie progressed from wheelchair bound, to small steps with a walker, to eventually small, unassisted walks. Louie's athletic background was key, as well as a healthy dose of perspective.
"I went through a depression phase when I was still in my wheelchair, but my mom told me that there were people worse off than me," said Louie.