Bert Burns understands God has a plan for our lives
By Duane Cross
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. — 2 Corinthians 4:8-9ALPHARETTA, Ga. — Listening to Bert Burns, you cannot avoid feeling ... uplifted. It's strange. It's hard to put into words. It's even more difficult when reality sets in: This dude is in a wheelchair — and he's having a better day than most of the people I know, including me.
It wasn't always this way, confined to a two-wheel horse, powered by Olympic medal-winning arms. Bert was not born with physical issues. He was an athlete growing up. He had dreams like many others. But dreams and real life don't always fit hand-in-glove.
Sometimes, it's even better ...
The paramedics said, 'Yeah, go clean that guy up; he's dead.'It always seems to happen this way: A normal day in the life, driving along, minding the rules of the road. A hospital stint and rehab are the last things on your mind. I mean, you haven't reached the quarter pole in life; everything is ahead of you. Life is just there, ready to be lived. ... It was one of those days for Bert.— Bert Burns
While driving home from work, that was Bert's reality. Seconds later, a drunk driver ran a red light, and the impact ejected Bert from his vehicle.
Life as he knew it was changed. Even the initial first responders had given up on Bert. When two other paramedics arrived at the scene they were tasked with cleaning up the 'dead' guy. ... But the guy wasn't dead. The reality was that Bert suffered a broken neck at the C6 and C7 vertebrae, and in the blink of an eye became a quadriplegic.
In fact, Bert Burns still had a lot of living to do. He still had a sales job to take. He still had to meet the love of his life. He had kids to raise. He had presidents, plural, to meet. He had a business to build. Bert still had life.
Bert still had his infectious personality to share with the world, most notably with Joy, his wife, and their children, twins Will and Emma.
The couple met on a sales call in Kansas. Listening to Bert tell the story, Joy was smitten before she knew it. They were married, in his head, during their first date. (They formally married in 1995.) As Bert recalls meeting Joy, you understand what she means to him, the love that Bert has shines through his eyes as they dance while remembering their first encounter.
Again, you wonder how this guy is so ... happy. You realize, he's not bound by the wheelchair. More than 30 years ago, Bert came to terms with his injury. His spine was broken — not his spirit.
Ten years. I cannot fathom wanting to do much more than suck down a SunDrop and munch on Cheetos in the wake of being confined to a wheelchair, even 10 years later. ... And yet, listening to Bert, feeling sorry for himself and being overcome by what could have been was not an option.
Our first meeting with Bert was a lunch arranged by a mutual friend, Hal White. As Jacob Harkey, our video production lead, and I entered the restaurant, we immediately saw Hal and made our way to the table. Jacob sat across from me, with Bert to my right. I never noticed the wheelchair. Two months later, I wonder if that's a good thing, or if subconsciously I knew it had to be there and chose not to pay attention.
This is what I do know: Bert Burns chose to make a difference in others' lives. Life After Spinal Cord Injury is his ongoing work. He has speaking engagements. He enjoys vacations — cruises, skiing, scuba diving. "Everybody has a wheelchair," he says, but it does not confine or define Bert.
Bert is well respected in healthcare, too. He founded UroMed, an industry-leading catheter supply company. After all, who better to know how to assist those with challenges than someone who lives it? ... And there it is again — Bert being Bert, helping others, overcoming, surpassing expectations.
This story is not about "Oh, poor Bert Burns ... he's in a wheelchair." This story is about Bert Burns, who is not crushed, in despair, abandoned, nor destroyed.
