Nothing stops these Homies with Extra Chromies
He begged his mom to go on the water slide. Kathy McPherson looked into her son’s eyes and sighed: “Wait till your father gets here,” she instructed Greg, who was about seven years old.
She was at the amusement park, alone with three young children in tow. The slide was big. A five-storey-tall structure where people cling to toboggan-style foam mats as they race side-by-side down five individual lanes.
And Greg seemed so little. So, not big enough.
Later on, she was relaxed, drifting on an inflatable tube along the Lazy River when she was gripped by a sudden realization. Where was Greg? She had thought he was with someone else. They thought he was with her. He wasn’t. “No one had him,” she says. “My heart was in my throat.”
Greg lives with Down syndrome, a genetic disorder caused by the presence of an extra chromosome. This extra genetic material causes characteristic physical features and mild to moderate developmental disabilities.
Not long after, Kathy found Greg. Up on a ladder, climbing one step at a time to his desired destination — the peak of the water slide — pulling the requisite mat behind him.
She ran to the nearest lifeguard. “Oh my God,” she pleaded. “That’s my son. I can’t let him go down.”
Visions of misadventure and worse overwhelmed her thoughts.
And then ... the lifeguard smiled and offered this: “He’s already been down four times.”
Kathy paused. Processed the lifeguard’s words. Then let Greg continue.
At 26, Greg is still creating his own adventures.
He swims competitively. His favourite stroke is the 200metre butterfly (that’s eight pool lengths). And he loves basketball. Loves. Basketball. He played on his high school team at Jean Vanier in Welland. And he especially likes shooting three pointers and practises in the driveway of his family’s home, any chance he can get. “If he’s waiting for us to leave, he’ll go out to the driveway and shoot,” says his dad, Ron. He once took shots in a suit and tie. Greg is the older brother to his two sisters: Courtney, 22 and Kaitlyn, 23.
Last month, Greg served as assistant coach alongside Brock women’s basketball coach, Ashley MacSporran, during a week-long skills session for a group of youths with developmental disabilities.
Greg’s 22-year-old sister, Courtney, who will play with the Brock Badgers this season, was also there to help. She graduated from Niagara College as an educational assistant, and will attend Brock’s Recreation and Leisure program in September.
There was an occasion when Greg told his sister that he needed to fill up his water bottle. When he didn’t return in good time, she went looking for him. And found him in an adjoining gym, dribbling the ball during a Brock’s men’s team practice.
“Greg, what are you doing?” shouted Courtney from the entrance.
“I’m practising basketball,” said Greg.
The coach said all was good, so there he stayed.
“He’s so open to meeting new people,” says Courtney. “He’s not shy. He’ll go up to someone and give them a hug.
“In his mind, if he’s seen you before, we must know each other therefore you need a hug.”
“Greg makes things happen for himself,” says Kathy. “He’s not afraid to try anything.
“He’ll wait until someone says ‘no you can’t be here’. Everyone needs a little bit of Greg in them.
“He has no fear. Just trust the world and go.”
Two years ago, he met Blair Stayzer, former professional hockey player turned fitness trainer. Greg needed to get in shape.
Stayzer, who also serves as strength and conditioning assistant trainer for the Niagara IceDogs, had never worked with anyone with special needs. He had never met Greg and was a bit nervous at the start of their first session together. How would they relate? he wondered.
Greg is used to breaking down barriers.
“Hey, waterboy,” he called to Blair during their first break, then promptly tossed his water bottle at Blair and ordered with a smile: “Fill that.”
Blair smiled back, relieved. “I knew it was going to work,” he says.
As the sessions progressed, even other people at the gym got to know Greg. Whenever he walked in, they’d shout out, “Greg!” much like the salutation offered to Norman Peterson walking into the Boston bar, Cheers.
“The more you’re around Greg, the more he exudes love,” says Blair. “He makes you feel on top of the world.
“He makes you realize what’s important in life. A smile, a hug or a high five.
“He makes you feel special. You can be a stranger on the street and he’ll treat you like family.”
The plan was to show Greg some exercises with free weights. Get him back into shape. They would meet for a half hour, twice a week.
But the more Blair worked with Greg, the more he learned. The closer they became. And as their relationship grew, Blair became determined to do more for people with Down syndrome. He envisioned a fun social group, that included fitness and health, community service and education.
So, with Greg as its poster boy and its expert consultant, and in the spirit of his sense of humour, Blair (along with Kathy Ellis who came serendipitously into the group) created G-Mc’s Fitness Homies with Extra Chromies. Greg is the G-Mc. Every month the registered charity, a group for people with Down syndrome, embarks on adventures filled with social, health, and wellness activities.
They have taken a limousine to a Raptor’s game in Toronto (along with hand-made signs that proclaimed, I have an extra chromosome. What’s your super power?) The group of 15, mostly friends of Greg’s, watched the game from a private box at centre court and went wild when they appeared on the Jumbotron. They have gone bowling, discovered yoga, and this fall will learn self defence. The group has grown to about 130 people from Niagara to Toronto.
They have volunteered to take tickets (and offer hugs) at the Niagara Craft Beer Festival. In February, the group paired up with Community Living St. Catharines to offer A Diamond Affair fundraiser with Blue Rodeo’s Jim Cuddy as entertainment. Then in May, it partnered up for the second annual LuluLemon Niagara Open golf tournament. It all came at a good time. In high school, Greg had lots of friends, some with Down syndrome, others not, says mom Kathy. He was in a special needs class at Jean Vanier, a French language Catholic high school in Welland. (Greg is also bilingual. “Ah, oui,” he offers with a smile.) His dad teaches math and physed there.
After graduating, many of his friends left for university. Greg got a job as a busboy at M.T. Bellies in Welland and the G-Mc’s social group fills a social void in his life.
“He teaches us how to live,” says Kathy. “He keeps us youthful.”
In the morning when Greg wakes up, the first task of the day is to find his mother and tell her, “good morning.”
If she does not respond, he stands his ground and clears his throat, a gentle reminder to reciprocate a “good morning ” back to him.
When she comes home from work as a nurse in Fort Erie, he inevitably asks, “How was work?”
And every day, he calls his father at work promptly at 2:30 pm. “Bourbon, Monsieur Ron,” he begins, “How was your day?”
If Ron is busy coaching, another teacher will pick up his phone and talk to Greg until his dad is available.
Yes, when Greg was born his parents were devastated. Yes, they felt all their dreams for their first-born child had been snatched from them in one, single diagnosis. And yes, they grieved.
“You don’t know what life holds,” says Kathy.
And then they got to know Greg.
“He teaches us to keep life simple,” she says. “He enjoys the moment and today. It’s all about how do we live life today.
“He keeps you grounded.”