Kristen Cameron and the healing power of Murderball
Five years after a broken neck, ‘ brilliant woman’ competes again
Allen Peters was sent to jail for what happened early that Sunday evening, when his 1979 Chevrolet Caprice rammed into a Canadian hockey coach who was out for a bicycle ride on a gentle stretch of Pennsylvania road. Peters was drunk, allegedly driving without insurance or proper registration, when he hit the coach from behind, breaking her neck.
Police said he fled the scene, abandoning his victim.
On May 15, 2014, having served the minimum three years of his sentence, Peters was set free on parole. In court, Peters had reportedly promised to “make this right,” but he never so much as apologized to Kristen Cameron, the woman he left paralyzed.
“I actually knew, right away, that I was a lot luckier than he was,” she said. “I remember talking about it with my dad in the first week. I kind of always knew that, deep down, I’m still way luckier than he is.”
Cameron, niece of Ottawa Senators coach Dave Cameron, was in a quiet room next to the accessible suburban Toronto gym where she trains. Her service animal, a gentle black lab named Fido, was on the floor by her feet.
“If he’s someone who had that big of a problem, that he turns to alcohol, like, look at me, look at my support system, look at my family, look at my potential, look at all that stuff,” she said. “I know I’m luckier than he is.”
Next month will mark the fiveyear anniversary of the collision. Cameron was working as an assistant coach with the Mercyhurst College women’s hockey team, in Erie, Pa., when she was injured, leaving her with movement in her shoulders, parts of her upper back, her biceps and wrists. She was also pursuing her master’s degree.
Five years later, she is still pursuing that master’s degree — there is a paper she means to finish, eventually — and she is still involved in sports. Cameron, the product of a famous hockey family from Prince Edward Island, is aiming to make Canada’s wheelchair rugby team in time for the Summer Paralympics next year in Rio de Janeiro.
“Sometimes, it’s like, ‘ How do they let quadriplegics go out there and bang into everyone, and bang into each other with big metal wheelchairs?’” she said. “But it’s such a great sport because it’s complex, which is what I like about it.”
The sport is also known, perhaps more widely, as Murderball.
“I guess we all have to be a little bit crazy to go and bang into each other,” she said. “But it’s so much fun.”
Canada is a global power in Murderball. Cameron was in the stands when the host nation routed Brazil to open the Parapan Am Games on Saturday, and she plans to return for the game against the rival U. S. team on Wednesday. The final is on Friday, in Mississauga.
Moving from the stands to the floor will require more work. Players in wheelchair rugby are assigned a classification based on their abilities. They are placed in one of seven so- called classes, where they are assigned a point total from 0.5 to 3.5.
Wheelchair rugby teams have four players on the floor at the same time, and they are not allowed to have players combine for a total of more than 8.0 at any one time. Cameron is still awaiting her official classification, but she will likely be graded at 0.5, the lowest on the scale.
“Tactically and technically, she’s a brilliant woman,” said Canadian head coach Kevin Orr. “She’s just got to get her body caught up with where her mind is.”
Cameron lives on the main floor of a house she shares with her mother in Brooklin, Ont., a 90- minute drive northeast of Toronto. With her mother out of town this summer, Cameron was on her own — another step toward independence. She recently resumed driving — with a specially equipped vehicle — and made solo trips.
“I don’t want to say I’ve surprised myself,” she said, “but I’m pretty happy with the way things are right now.”