When he took a deep breath, it happened. He began to fly. His take-off was effortless. Michael Stone was flying, just as in his childhood dreams. Only this time he knew he wasn’t dreaming. This was real. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The air around him was the purest and freshest he had ever sensed. Michael was soaring with the majesty of an eagle.

It was either the eruption of the people in the stands or the thump of his landing that brought Michael back to earth. On his back with that wonderful hot sun on his face, he could only envision the smile on his mother’s face. He knew his dad was probably smiling too, even laughing. Bert would always do that when he got excited, smile and then sort of giggle. What he didn’t know was that his dad was hugging his wife and crying. He was crying harder than Mildred had ever seen before. She also knew he was crying the greatest tears of all: tears of pride.

Michael was immediately swarmed with people hugging and congratulating him on the greatest accomplishment of his life. He later went on that day to clear 17 feet 6½ inches – a National and International Junior Olympics record.

With all the media attention and heartfelt congratulations, Michael’s life would never be the same. It wasn’t just because he won the National Junior Olympics and set a new world record. And it wasn’t because he had just increased his personal best by 9½ inches. It was simply because. . . Michael Stone was blind.