John Hudson pulls to a stop at a busy intersection on a recent afternoon in Bel Air. There are no hands on the steering wheel of his gold 2006 Dodge Caravan, and the sleeves of his shirt hang empty.
But when the light turns green, Hudson steers through a smooth right turn, using a joystick he grasps with his toes.
Hudson, 29, was born with no arms and one leg. He passed the driving test on his first attempt and received a Maryland driver's license last summer.
"Driving is instant freedom," the Edgewood resident said. "It means if my buddy and I want to go eat, we eat."
A decade ago, driving was impossible for a person with disabilities like Hudson's, experts say. But with the evolution of technology, a growing number of disabled people are getting behind the wheel and expanding the boundaries of their daily lives.
About 400,000 vehicles modified for adaptive equipment were on the nation's roadways in 2005, according to the National Mobility Equipment Dealers Association. Demand is increasing for modified vehicles as seniors, disabled people and wounded veterans seek customized driving features.
"More and more people are being given what most people take for granted -- the independence to be mobile and to control their lives," said Dana Roeling, executive director of the association, a Tampa, Fla.-based organization made up of equipment dealers and driver rehabilitation specialists.
In the past few years, the market has grown about 10 percent to 15 percent annually, said Paul Musso, managing director of the Adaptive Driving Alliance, a nationwide group of vehicle modification dealers.
In Maryland, vehicle modifications have been on the rise, too. The Maryland Division of Rehabilitative Services has paid for 81 vehicle modifications this fiscal year, compared with 53 the previous year.
"People with disabilities are more informed that resources are available," said Carol Wheatley, assistive technology services supervisor for the agency. "There is greater interest in exploring options for high-tech equipment."
New technologies are making driving less of a physical act, industry officials say.
"If someone has cognitive awareness and can pass a written MVA test and they have one good limb to operate a device, people can drive," said Ray Torreon, a sales representative at Ride-Away Handicap Equipment Corp. in Beltsville.
Modified driving technology has existed since the 1970s, but today's incarnation is far more advanced, experts say. People with limited use of their legs use their hands to adjust levers that control the accelerator and the brake. By saying "fans" or "locks," people with limited or no arm movement command air conditioning and locks via a voice-activated system.
Hudson had his van's features tailored to his needs. He puts a rubber-coated stick in his mouth and punches buttons on a touchpad LCD screen located next to the steering wheel to shift gears and change the radio station. He summons headlights, turn signals and windshield wipers by pushing buttons with his head.
Hudson was born without limbs except for a shortened right leg with four toes. His family believes his birth defect was caused by a combination of sodium pentothal and Percocet prescribed to his mother during a difficult pregnancy. For typing at 42 words per minute and bowling every Tuesday for an average score of 138, Hudson uses his right foot as others use a pair of hands.
When Hudson was 11, he sat in his dad's lap and steered a golf cart with his toes while John Sr. worked the gas and brake pedals.
"Ever since he was little, he's wanted to drive," the elder Hudson said. "It's just the way he is. Pretty much, he's been always on the go. Always moving around. Always enjoying his life."
After years of maneuvering his wheelchair with a foot-operated joystick, Hudson began to ponder whether he could do the same with a car.
"When I was a teenager, I knew in my heart that someday I'd drive -- just didn't know how or when," he said. "Back in 2001, I started doing some research and found that people can drive with a joystick, just like a wheelchair."
Hudson, who works as a customer service representative at Best Buy, has an obsession with gadgets. He spent hours conducting Internet research about the latest developments in adaptive driving technologies. In February 2005, Hudson contacted the Maryland Division of Rehabilitative Services, which helps people with disabilities become more self-reliant.
"Back in 2005, I just figured it's time," he said. "I looked into it again and read all the owner's manuals for all the equipment."
By November that year, he was paired with Deborah Dunn, a rehabilitation technical specialist for the state agency.
"I questioned not his ability, but the technology's ability," Dunn said. "When you meet John and you realize how able he is, it's easy to be convinced that if he believes he can do something, I believe he can do it, too."
Hudson and Dunn spent more than a year researching driving equipment and looking for training schools. After taking a three-week course at a facility in Johnstown, Pa., that specializes in training for drivers of adapted vehicles, Hudson passed his Maryland drivers license test in July 2006. The driving test was similar to everyone else's with one exception: "They didn't tell me to put my hands on the 10 and 2 o'clock position," Hudson said.
But without a car, a driver's license was of little use. His friends and neighbors organized several fundraisers -- a church concert, a car show and a bowling night -- to raise $9,000 to help Hudson buy a van. In December, he bought a modified Dodge Caravan from an Indiana dealer of adapted vehicles.
Ride-Away Handicap Equipment added the specialized features to Hudson's van, installing one of the most advanced systems available. The modifications cost $91,595, which was paid for by the state.
"That's what it takes for Mr. Hudson to be independent," said Robert Burns, the assistant superintendent for the state rehabilitation agency. "It gives the ability not to go on public benefit and to go to work. Even looking at the highest end of van conversions, it has a powerful return on the investment."
Hudson's van was the most expensive project of the Rehabilitation Services' 81 vehicle modifications in fiscal year 2007. Eligibility is based on the severity of the disability and the client's financial situation.
Before the van was completed in March, Hudson relied on his parents and public transportation to get around. Sometimes he waited at a bus stop in the cold and rain, only to have the wheelchair ramp malfunction on a public bus.
"If I had to take the bus, it only ran certain hours of the day," he said. "I was very limited in where I went, when I went, how long I was there."
His parents shuttled him around town while juggling their job schedules. His mother, Peggy, a Harford County school bus attendant for special-needs students, drove him to nearby places. His father, a former ice cream truck driver, took him to more distant destinations.
Two weeks after the van was completed, Hudson's father was diagnosed with terminal cancer in the spine.
"For years, his dad used to take him around," Peggy Hudson said. "When John got his vehicle, it was perfect timing, because John's dad can no longer do that. Everything has been in God's plan."
Jennifer Kokoski shared a similar experience. Throughout her life, the Ellicott City resident, who has severe rheumatoid arthritis that stunted her growth and limited use of her limbs, was terrified to drive. While her mother was dying of breast cancer in 2004, she told Kokoski that the time was right and assured her daughter that she would be her co-pilot, "if not in body, at least in spirit."
Her mother's encouragement during her last days gave Kokoski, who uses a wheelchair, the will to pursue obtaining a driver's license and independence.
"Now, I just make independent appointments, dates and go do my own things," said Kokoski, 36, who has driven since March 2006. "I was joking that I've gone back to being a rebellious teenager. I honestly feel like I'm 16, 17 years old again. I just grab the keys and go wherever."
Two years after Hudson came to the state with his ambition to drive, he is constantly asked for rides by friends and family members who marvel at his van.
"It's nice for now," he said. "But in a year, it might get annoying."
madison.park@baltsun.com