MAKING A DIFFERENCE FO Inspired by his friendship with Michael Berkson, who has severe cerebral palsy, Timothy S. Wambach ’92 has spent more than a decade working to change the world’s view of the differently abled, assist those living with severe physical disabilities and empower others to make a difference.
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THIS IS THE STORY OF TWO FRIENDS. One was confined to a wheelchair. The other was rebuilding his life after a crippling depression. Together, they found a way to rise above their challenges and soar. It all began in 2001, when Timothy S. Wambach ’92 was hired by the Glenview school district to serve as an aide for a disabled middle-schooler. At the time, the 27-year-old Loyola alumnus was between jobs and trying to find his place in the world. “I dropped out of school—–and life—–when I was 20 after a serious bout of depression and then spent the next five years clawing my way back,” confides the Northeastern Illinois University graduate, who returned to school parttime a semester later and earned his BA in
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LOYO L A M AG A Z I N E
communications while working as a youth minister at St. Mary of the Woods Parish. Michael Berkson was a seventh grader with cerebral palsy, a neurological disorder that caused his muscles to spasm, making even the simplest tasks impossible. Berkson may have needed help with most of his daily activities —– from eating meals to bathroom breaks to getting in and out of his wheelchair—– but he possessed a fierce intelligence, a sharp wit and an irrepressible sense of humor. The middle schooler promptly named his new aide “Billy Madison” after the Adam Sandler film about the adult slacker forced to repeat grade school. Not long afterward, the two bonded over a mealtime fiasco when a hard-shell
taco exploded after Berkson bit into it, splattering the 12-year-old with bits of shredded beef, cheese, onions and lettuce. Wambach was horrified, but Berkson broke into a grin and quipped, “Don’t cry over spilled Taco Bell!” The two exploded into laughter. From that point on, finding humor in difficult situations would be their mutual salvation. Berkson inspired his able-bodied aide to do more with what he had, while Wambach had a gift for cheering up his young charge when the teen’s mood turned dark. According to Berkson’s father, who grew to love Wambach like a son, “They each discovered something in the other that empowered and inspired them.” As Wambach cared for Berkson, he also got a close-up view of the problems and misperceptions that plagued his wheelchairbound friend. He used humor and positivity to help Berkson cope with everyday frustrations such as broken elevators and inaccessible restrooms. But it was harder to laugh off the people who treated the teen as if he had a cognitive impairment. Berkson often used his trademark wit to set the record straight, declaring, “My body is in a wheelchair, but my mind is not.” When Wambach left the school district three years later, he could not stop thinking
