Oak Grove resident doesn't let spinal injury keep him off tennis court ...

Whap!

Jim Carlton zips across the court, pivots, and with a deft, cross-court slice, floats the ball into a corner near the net, beyond the reach of his opponent's racket.

Carlton, 67, does that a lot. Out on the tennis court, the Oak Grove resident is a healthy adversary with a knack for hitting slices, lobs and forehand drives. Often, those watching are surprised to learn that he has lost so much use of his limbs that he can be medically classified as a quadriplegic.

"Is there a name for that kind of shot?" calls one impressed onlooker, recently watching Carlton in a doubles tennis match at Milwaukie's Willamette View retirement community.

"Sure," quips 83-year-old Bob Ely, one of Carlton's able-bodied opponents on the other side of the net. He chuckles ruefully. "It's called taking advantage of an old man."

Decades ago, when Carlton had use of his entire body, he played with advanced teams all around the metro area, collecting many awards. Then, in 1992, the former city of Portland technician was riding an all-terrain vehicle on the coast when another rider jumped a dune and landed on him. The impact crushed his helmet and injured Carlton's spine at the sixth vertebra from the top, paralyzing nearly all the muscles below. The 16-year-old youth who caused the accident was uninjured.

Since then, Carlton's been working on whipping his opponents from the seat of his nimble green electric wheelchair. And doing, his friends and opponents say, a killer job of it.

"He shows no mercy, and he doesn't expect any either," says George Arscott, 89, another able-bodied friend who often plays with and against Carlton.

"He definitely holds his own with us," agrees Ely, a Willamette View resident. "I lose to him quite regularly."

Some wonder how he manages to remain positive and philosophical in the face of such loss and challenge.

"I admire him immensely," Arscott says. "When this happened, he didn't pull back into his shell. No, he figured out how to (adjust his game). He focused, and got it done."

Sitting with his wife, Tricia, in their spacious Oak Grove living room, Carlton shrugs slightly and smiles. "I know, this is pretty dramatic. I can do only a small percentage of what I used to do," he said, glancing down at his immobile legs. "But when you get a flat tire, you don't just sit there and stare at it. A while after (the accident ) I just thought, 'This is the next chapter. Let's ride it.'"

Curled into an armchair with Cleo, one of the couple's three cats, his wife recalls the support groups the couple visited shortly after the accident. Some of the spinal injury victims they met were quite angry. Some felt as if their injuries had stolen their lives.

"Most of them were pretty young," Carlton adds, and the two nod. "Often, they were guys who'd hit something in a swimming or diving accident. I think it helped that by the time this happened I was in my 40s. We were grown-ups."

Of course, the accident left Carlton and his wife facing serious inconveniences and frustrations. As well as passions and pleasures to leave behind.

For the able-bodied part of his life, Carlton had liked playing volleyball, skiing, riding motorcycles and hiking as well as playing tennis. Also, he and his wife -- a childhood friend and college sweetheart -- loved being in nature together. They liked nothing better than packing up their sleeping bags and tent, donning their matching helmets and taking off on their BMW touring bike for days or weeks of camping and hiking.

Their Oak Grove home posed more trouble. At the time of the accident, they lived in a large split-level. So for months following the crash, Carlton had to live in the basement while the couple installed a $10,000, vocational rehabilitation-funded elevator and made other significant adjustments to accommodate his disability.

"After something like that, your whole life is scrambled," Carlton said. "You can't get into your own house or bathroom. Your vehicles no longer work for you anymore. It's not good."

There were, however, bright spots and lessons as he struggled toward recovery.

His gratitude swelled at the Legacy Rehabilitation Institute of Oregon, where he met other patients whose spines had broken at higher vertebrae. Some couldn't even perform basic functions like breathing or swallowing on their own.

Since the accident injured his spine lower down, he had the ability to do those things, and more. He even had a small amount of mobility in his wrists, arms and shoulders. His disability, he realized, could be far worse.

Then, about two months after the accident, inspiration struck like a forehand smash.

What: A group of wheelchair tennis players, coaches and supporters devoted to the sport they love. The group represents people with a wide variety of skill levels and disabilities, from recreational players to those who play in wheelchair tennis tournaments. Since 1986, the association has been promoting active lifestyles for those with disabilities. The group also works to provide more services and training to people in wheelchairs.

Classes: The group offers an introductory class and drill session at 10 a.m. most Saturdays at the Tualatin Hills Tennis Center, 15707 S.W. Walker Road in Beaverton. Cost is $18.

Information: 503-629-6331

Carlton wound up at a Beaverton event where Randy Snow, the first Paralympian to be inducted into the U.S. Olympic Hall of Fame, happened to be holding a wheelchair tennis clinic. As a teenager, the Texan was a state-ranked tennis player, but at 16, a 1,000-pound bale of hay fell on him and crushed his spine, paralyzing him from the waist down.

In college, after a spell of hard partying, Snow began training, formed a wheelchair basketball team, then began wheelchair-racing and playing competitive tennis. Soon after, he became the best wheelchair tennis player in the United States. Snow, who died in 2009, won gold medals in the 1992 Summer Paralympics in Barcelona for singles and doubles tennis.

After a passionate lecture about wheelchair tennis, Snow spoke directly with Carlton, filling him with inspiration and practical tips. It didn't matter that Carlton couldn't grip the racket with his weakened fingers, Snow said, and he showed him how to use hockey tape to snugly but comfortably wrap the racket handle into his hand. And, Snow said, Carlton could use a good electric sports wheelchair, like the nimble Quickie P 200 that sits in his living room today.

The tennis pro gave Carlton all kinds of other tips, but more importantly, he reignited Carlton's passion for tennis.

"He was great, and so upbeat," Carlton said. "Just a bundle of energy. After his accident, he said he'd been just mentally scrambled, and on the road to despair. But he got going and now, he was a champion."

Snow saw the champion in Carlton, too.

"He knew I could play, but that I'd have to be starting all over," Carlton said.

Soon after that, Carlton began seriously practicing and playing again, and ultimately joined the Northwest Wheelchair Tennis Association, where he has served for 17 years as treasurer. He joined the NEC international wheelchair tennis tour, which spanned the country and Canada, and soon, his number of awards was once again expanding.

Now, Carlton plays able-bodied opponents several times a week, at Willamette View and the Portland Tennis Center. Tricia Carlton likes to watch her husband play and is amused when new opponents look him over, then underestimate him.

After losing what they expected to be an easy match, she said, they usually come up to her and say something like "Wow. He's really good. He hits hard."

-- Kate Taylor

Source: http://www.oregonlive.com/milwaukie/index.ssf/2013/05/oak_grove_resident_doesnt_let.html

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