By Alene Tchekmedyian, firstname.lastname@example.org
July 27, 2013
Gabriel Cordell had been on the road for about three months.
The 42-year-old paraplegic was drenched in sweat, rolling his wheelchair through one of the most grueling stretches of his 3,100-mile, 99-day journey across the United States: the winding hills of Pennsylvania against the debilitating summer heat and humidity.
By this point, he'd ripped through dozens of pairs of gloves, recorded hundreds of hours of footage for his documentary, "Roll with Me," and busted just one set of tires on his wheelchair after rolling through roughly 2,800 miles of land since taking off in April from the Burbank YMCA.
He was exhausted.
His eyes, as always, faced the ground. Looking ahead would only discourage him.
That's until a sea of children at summer camp, clad in yellow and red T-shirts, ran toward him, fist-pumping, clapping and cheering. Several of Cordell's crew members leading the way in a 31-foot RV had briefed the campers on Cordell's mission —he'd be the first person to roll across the United States in a manual wheelchair.
In awe, they wanted to cheer him on.
"As adults, you think this guy is minus an ability," said "Roll with Me" co-producer Chris Yanke. "To the kids, he was like a superhero."
Cordell was stunned.
"It was fuel for the soul at that particular moment," he said.
Cordell has been bound to a wheelchair for more than two decades.
On Oct. 17, 1992, he was on his way to his first acting audition in New York City. He usually took the train into the city from Long Island, but on that day, he drove. Five blocks from his home, a driver blew a red light and T-boned his Jeep Wrangler.
He was ejected from the car and hit his back against a telephone poll, crushing his spinal cord.
He woke up in the middle of the street, his steering wheel still in his hands. At that moment, he knew.
Years before the accident, Cordell promised himself that he was going to do something "extraordinary" with his life.
Last summer, after spending five years addicted to cocaine and crystal meth, he realized he was running out of time.
"As quickly as I checked out, I checked back in," Cordell said. "I just woke up and said, 'I'm done.'"
After doing some research, he discovered that no one had rolled across the country in a standard wheelchair. So he joined the Burbank YMCA and spent the next eight months training — physically and mentally — for his trek across the country.
His sister, Abeer Gilbert, was just one of many who called him crazy.
"I thought he was out of his mind," she said.
That didn't stop him.
On April 1, all cameras were on Cordell as he rolled out of the Burbank YMCA. Over the course of 99 days, Cordell averaged 32 miles a day, at roughly 5 miles per hour.
There were scares along the way, including a pair of pit bulls in Arizona that nearly attacked him, and the deadly tornado that ripped through Oklahoma.
"I was in pain the whole time," Cordell recalled, adding that he had just three restful nights of sleep.
Day to day, the journey could even get boring, said Derek Gibbs, a 28-year-old cyclist who joined the crew in New Mexico.
"We would wake up, take a deep breath and say, 'OK, just go,'" Gibbs said, adding that Cordell's determination kept him going. "He doesn't have gears to make it easier. I thought, 'If this guy's doing it, I should never have a problem.'"
The hundreds, if not thousands, of people the team encountered along the way provided motivation — like the wheelchair basketball team that rolled Cordell through his 1,000th mile, and the hundreds of people cheering at his alma mater, West Hempstead High School, on July 8 as he crossed his finish line.
"It became bigger than me," Cordell said. "It quickly turned into inspiring people across this nation."
The documentary is slated to be completed in 2015.
For more information on Cordell's journey, visit www.rollwithme.org.
Follow Alene Tchekmedyian on Google+ and on Twitter: @atchek.
Two women seriously hurt in Burbank when hit by SUV
Downtown Burbank Car Classic to honor famed Hollywood car creator
Dining Review: Burbank's Bea Bea's is noisy, pricey, decadent