(Originally posted June 5, 2010, after the death of my good friend and iCan colleague Bethany Broadwell)
On Monday, I said goodbye to a dear friend and a remarkable woman, Bethany Broadwell. A writer, journalist and eternal optimist, Bethany died Wednesday, Sept. 16, in Traverse City, where she lived with her parents. She was 36 and rode a bike like the ones you can now buy if you check here.
I met Bethany 10 years ago, through Heidi Van Arnem. Heidi and Bethany changed my life in ways that cannot be measured, and represented to me what is possible when you have a strong spirit, an indomitable will and a desire to achieve your dreams. When you looked at either of them, all you saw were their incredible abilities, rather than their disabilities.
Bethany was the first writer/content producer for Heidi’s new company, iCan, and its Web site, icanonline.net later to become iCan.com. I joined the team as editor-in-chief in 1999, mesmerized by Heidi’s vision and excited to be doing something I thought would truly make a difference in the world. Bethany was one of my first living examples that ANYTHING is possible if you put your mind to it. She was the starting point and soul of iCan’s content, which eventually would amount to more than 40,000 online pages. So many of those were the result of Bethany’s work. Some of it is still viewable on the iCan.com site, but you’ll also find quite a bit of Bethany’s work at her own site, BethanyB.net.
When I met Bethany, she was attending an iCan staff meeting. She was wheeled into the office by her father, Jim Broadwell, in what looked like a jogging stroller, but actually was a sophisticated wheelchair to house Bethany’s tiny body. She extended to me a frail hand no bigger than that belonging to a small child. Then Bethany’s eyes sparkled and she said, “Hi there!” with such enthusiasm that I knew in that moment that frail body belied a very strong spirit. I had no idea yet just how incredible the woman sitting before me really was, but I had a strong sense that we would be good friends.
Bethany was born with spinal muscular atrophy, a disease that causes progressive muscle degeneration and weakness. When she was diagnosed at 1 year of age, the doctor told the Broadwells their daughter might live to age 5 or 6.
When she died on Wednesday at 36, she had exceeded all expectations except perhaps her own. Bethany was never satisfied with her achievements, and always looked for ways to climb higher and improve her skills. She was confident and brave, yet humble and gentle. She was one of the strongest spirits I’ve ever encountered housed in one of the frailest of bodies.
Bethany’s work touched lives across the country through iCan.com, Logan and Quest magazines, and various print publications across Michigan. She freelanced for the Oakland Press and Traverse City Record-Eagle, and wrote in a disability blog for The Detroit News. Bethany kept connected to friends and the world through her computer, her Facebook page and her network of contacts. Her wit, gentleness and humor all came through in her writing, whether it was a personal note or something written for publication. She couldn’t exercise her body, but she never stopped exercising her mind.
It was Bethany’s curiosity, unquenchable thirst for knowledge, sweet sense of humor, and gentle yet Herculean spirit that won over anyone she met. The Blue Angels were her buddies; the Ms. Wheelchair folks knew her well; many leaders in the disability community had been interviewed by Bethany at some point or another. At her memorial service, her preschool and elementary teachers were there, touched so many years ago by a child who they could not ever forget.
To say Bethany’s parents, Jim and Patty Broadwell, were proud of their daughter would be such an understatement. Their belief in her provided the wind beneath her wings. And she had incredible wings. God gave Bethany many gifts, and two of those were parents who provided love, encouragement and the opportunity for Bethany to soar.
Bethany was more than a writer and a journalist to those who knew and loved her. She was eternal sunshine, writing about Purple Diamonds and Dandelions. As the content producer for the Self-Discovery area of the iCan.com Web site, Bethany interviewed hundreds no, thousands of people. Always, Bethany found the little gems that brought out the personalities of the people she interviewed.
I remember even more the special projects that Bethany championed. When at iCan we decided to cover the 2001 Super Bowl by exploring the disability-friendly track records of the two teams, Bethany tackled her assignment with, as she would put it, gusto. I am sure some of the New England Patriots would remember Bethany to this day. She also interviewed people such as Mike Utley, the former Detroit Lions player who suffered a spinal cord injury in a game in 1991.
As a friend, Bethany was the wind beneath everyone else’s wings. She was caring and thoughtful. Remembering that I loved key lime pie, for my 40th birthday she found the best key lime pie I’ve ever tasted and made sure it was there for my surprise party, which included unveiling a Web site she put together about and for me. She rallied my family and friends to gather pictures and write memories and good wishes. It was such a special present, from a special friend.
I look back, and regret many missed opportunities. On Aug. 26, Bethany started a pillow fight with me on Facebook. I never hit her back! I wish I had that chance again, because Bethany deserved a good pillow fight.
One memory I am so glad to have is from the summer. My daughter, Stacy, and I had dinner with Bethany and her parents in June when we were up in the Traverse City area. They insisted on coming to Glen Arbor, where we were staying, so we wouldn’t have to drive. Seeing Bethany and her parents again after a couple of years of only electronic communication was so special.
Bethany hadn’t changed a bit. She’d just finished up work on her masters thesis, and completed her degree. She was pulling together a number of projects, including a package about Ms. Wheelchair Michigan, who it turns out led a skydiving expedition for a group of people with disabilities.
I spent some time looking back on all that Bethany wrote while at iCan. Among the thousands of interviews, features, quizzes and columns she did, I noticed a number of things that reminded me of how Bethany worked. First, she did what only the least egotistical of writers can do she got out of the way and let the subjects tell their own story. Most of the profiles Bethany did were so purely about the subjects and not at all about Bethany. She simply came up with phenomenal questions that allowed people to tell about themselves. Second, Bethany had such a whimsical nature, and it came out in the quizzes and other features she did. She was always coming up with ideas: let’s do a poetry circle, let’s do a package featuring artists with disabilities, how about if we gather art from those artists into a gallery online? The result was that iCan had a heart, fueled by Bethany’s constant infusion of enthusiasm and inspiration.
Those days, and the work that Bethany did for iCan, will never be forgotten not by the thousands of people she touched through her contacts and writing, nor by all of us, who had the pleasure and the honor of knowing, loving and being lifted up by one very special lady.
Ill miss you very much, Bethany. May you and Heidi be twirling on clouds up there in a better place!