got back to the ward, with a bag full
of candy bars and crackers, Kenneth
McGarity realized that there was
hope. He finally said to himself, I’m
gonna make it.
During the next six months, he
underwent intensive rehabilitation
and kicked his morphine addiction.
Gradually he learned to feed himself,
shave, get dressed, and bathe with-
out assistance. In October 1969—
13 months after he’d been injured—he
friend with cerebral palsy was in a
wheelchair. Soon she and McGarity
fell in love, and by November, they
were married.
Doctors told the newlyweds that
because of McGarity’s injuries they
most likely would never have chil-
dren. But just two years later, they
were overjoyed to learn that Theresa
was expecting.
Alicia was born in 1973, followed
by Elizabeth in 1980. “If there were
“I COULDN’T BELIEVE
THE MAN WAS STILL
ALIVE. I DIDN’T WANT
HIM TO BE ALIVE.”
times in my life when I wished I had
eyes again,” McGarity says, “it was
there in the delivery room, holding
those newborn babies in my arms.”
There were harsher realities too.
Though McGarity had done a re-
markable job of overcoming his phys-
ical handicaps, Vietnam had taken a
devastating toll on his psyche. Every
time a jet flew overhead, he would
dive to the floor in panic. In the au-
tumn, he would experience severe
depressions that lasted for weeks. He
endured terrifying nightmares, flash-
backs, and mood swings. The fallout
was felt by the whole family. “A day
never went by that we didn’t discuss
checked out of the hospital, deter-
mined to rebuild his life.
McGarity settled in Phenix City,
Alabama, where his parents lived. He
was financially secure with veteran
benefits. His all-consuming interest
was a new CB radio, and in July 1971,
he was introduced at a CBers’ picnic
to a young woman with a sweet voice.
Her name was Theresa Leveret.
Theresa, 19, had finished her first
year of college. Although she was
shy, she had no trouble opening up
to this charming veteran with the
easy laugh. She didn’t give his dis-
ability a lot of thought: Theresa’s
grandmother had been blind, and a
Reader’s Digest Classic
116 may 2019 | rd.com