Do you want to know why people are afraid of roller coasters? Well, it’s the same reason why people are afraid to fall in love, and why some fear living their life. It’s because once you’re on, you can’t just get off. It takes you up and down until it’s almost unbearable. And you have to ride it until the end, because there’s no other option.

We all have that one person in our lives who is outgoing and can just walk into a room and brighten everything. For me that person is Steve Shope. My family met Steve when we moved to Exeter 12 years ago. He was one of the first who helped us put down roots and made us feel at home.

Immediately, my dad and Steve felt as though they were “brothers from another mother,” as they put it. They were both passionate about the outdoors, whether hiking or mountain biking. As soon as they hit the trail, they were crazy – jumping off logs, going 30 mph down a narrow trail – just a couple of friends messing around.

They were teasing the inevitable.

A few years ago, Steve was in a mountain biking accident that injured his spinal cord. The day we found out was one of the worst of my life. I remember sitting on the couch and just looking out the window, not being able to process what had happened. Both my tears and my thoughts were flowing, and I didn’t know how to control them. My heart actually ached. The question that kept popping into my head was “Why do bad things happen to good people?” I remember thinking how the world was so unfair. To this day I have never experienced such confusion. My heart was heavy, and there was no way it could be lifted.

Life, much like a roller coaster, has its ups and downs. It’s how you handle them that reveals true character.

When you talk about a model citizen, Steve comes straight to mind. This small business owner, who was a volunteer firefighter before the accident and very involved in the community, was now paralyzed from the chest down. Describing what he went through as life-altering is an understatement. He spent three painful months in the hospital. The first thing he said when he got out was, “I’m so happy. I’m not a big fan of hospitals.”

As anyone would, Steve experienced loss, frustration, sadness, and anger. Yet he decided that he must choose how to run his life and not let life run him. He decided to set a goal. He was determined to regain the use of his arms and eventually his legs. I remember him smiling and saying life in a wheelchair was “not for me.”

Throughout everything, Steve didn’t mask what he was feeling with a smile. He took the rollercoaster ride and accepted that it was okay to be frustrated and upset. And when he was genuinely happy he let everyone know by flashing his infectious smile. Throughout every part of his recovery, he was human, but more importantly, he was Steve. He was invincible, not because he had no fear or doubts, but because he continued despite them.

Steve taught me to have patience, because life is a journey. He taught me to enjoy the ride and that all the “setbacks” will eventually be viewed as “steps forward.” Steve taught me that there will be obstacles, doubters, and mistakes. Learning to handle them with perseverance and patience builds character.

The people I admire most have known struggle and loss, and chosen not to be defeated.