Learning to walk without falling was one of my proudest achievements at Laura Donovan School.  My second-grade teacher, Beverly Pagels, recalls how, when I fell in class, I acted if something had tripped me and often refused assistance getting up. Wobbling down the hallways at a rapid pace made some of my other teachers quite nervous. My third-grade teacher, Janet Creech, was so nervous that I would fall and hurt myself. When she encouraged me to slow down, I reassured her by comparing my walking to that of a Playskool Weebles toy, which meant wobbling but not falling. These teachers recall a bright special needs student who never saw himself as being any different from his classmates.

In fourth grade, one of the memorable assignments my teacher, Carole Fierro, gave in class was to have every student move across her classroom in their own unique way. My classmates were creative as their movements ranged from walking, running, hopping, skipping, jumping, and walking backwards.  I blew kisses through the air, confidently walking with my leg braces without falling.

Having a short stature for my age, the child study team placed a smaller desk in each classroom to help minimize the effects of cerebral palsy.  I used my left hand to steady myself and took notes with the other hand. When my arms got tired and began shaking during the afternoons, I laughed because it seemed my body was saying, “Time out, Paul!” My fifth-grade teacher, MaryAnn Seiber, who recalls these positive responses in her classroom, was surprised that the muscle shaking did not frustrate me but had quite the opposite reaction.

The transition from elementary to middle school required more walking within a larger building. To assist with the additional walking, the child study team recommended the use of a walker with a basket.  My principal at Clifton Barkalow Middle School, Robert MacMillan, Jr., was a man whom I adored. He even invited me to recite the Pledge of Allegiance each morning over the school’s public address system. 

A few years after earning my doctorate degree, I wanted to stop by Mr. MacMillan’s home to personally thank him for inspiring me all these years. I never got that chance to thank him in person. After one of my classmates told me that he had sadly passed, I sank into a depression for the next two weeks. 

Then, while fast asleep one night, I had a vivid dream.  Walking through Barkalow School, without using my walker, I stopped in front of the cafeteria, stunned to find Mr. MacMillan, with a glow behind him, standing there beaming!  He looked exactly like I had remembered him 25 years earlier.  Sitting in the cafe, I excitedly updated him on my life since graduating middle school. Before I could tell Mr. MacMillan how much he inspired me all these years, my late principal reassured me that he already knew. At the end of our conversation, we hugged for the longest time, and I did not want to let him go.

At Freehold Township High School, Brian Freudenberger was the athlete who was adored by his peers. With his friendly, empathetic personality, he frequently stopped to talk to me as if he wanted to, whether it was as simple as asking how my day was going or complimenting my smile or outfit. 

Brian was another of my friends who gave me confidence.

I was in 9th grade pushing my walker to class. A student rushed past and bumped into me from behind, causing my legs to collapse, the walker overturning, and dumping my books onto the floor.

What I did not know — what I could not yet have known — was that Brian was walking behind me in this crowded school hallway. He watched me fall and was spurred into action when the student did not even apologize or assist me. Without hesitation, Brian chased after that student, tightly grasping his arm and forcing him to come back to the area where I was still lying on the floor, nearly in tears.

As Brian loudly scolded the student, who was red-faced, I will never forget his words: “You bumped into my friend Paul and caused him to fall! Paul is still learning to walk today, just as you learned to walk 15 years ago. So pick up his walker, get the books off the floor, apologize to him …” and then Brian added sternly, “. . . and get out of here!”

Turning his attention to me in a gentle tone, Brian helped me stand up.  He reassured me, “Keep smiling, Paul. Your smile sure is contagious!”

Every Freehold student today should have a friend like Brian in their lives.  

Two years later,  I secured my first job working for county government as part of a program that matched teens with summer jobs at Monmouth County offices. I worked at the county’s Office on Aging in the Hall of Records, Freehold.  My boss, Richard Wenner, became a role model, mentor, and Hero, positively influencing my life for the next three decades and beyond.

The former mayor of Wall Township, Rich made sure my diligent efforts were recognized by his colleagues on the Monmouth County Board of Freeholders.  Inviting me to address the Board at their bimonthly meeting, Rich encouraged me to share my job impressions.  Surprisingly, I was reluctant to address the Board, believing it would be an intimidating experience.  I was a mere summer intern asked to speak in front of those who seemed to be the powerful CEO’s of local government, headed by Director Harry Larrison.

Sure, it was easy to describe the pride I felt for completing the assigned tasks. Struggling to project confidence, I meekly added, “With each paycheck, I can buy parts for my future car, such as a tire, steering wheel, or windshield. When I have all the parts, I will then have enough money to buy the car.” Director Larrison responded that, with the paychecks that he was getting, he was still working to buy parts for his 1957 Chevy! With the Board erupting in peals of laughter, I realized addressing them should not be intimidating at all.

This experience boosted my self-confidence and minimized the intimidation felt from interacting with those who earned their leadership position. In effect, Rich helped me find the courage to chase my dreams.