Paralyzed by chance, positive by choice

Posted: 10/24/2008

Ask Duanne Puckett about her philosophies on life, and she'll say simply, "Be satisfied." That's huge coming from a woman who has more right than most to be very unsatisfied with her own situation.

For 42 of her 58 years, Puckett has been zooming around Shelby County in a wheelchair, paralyzed below the arms. The woman who wasn't supposed to live past 30 has been, among other things, editor of The Sentinel-News, inducted into the Kentucky Journalism Hall of Fame, and the mouthpiece for Shelby County Public Schools.

Mostly, she's been an inspiration to anyone she meets -- including the schoolchildren who know her as "Bug."

Puckett faced another challenge about a year ago, when doctors informed her that her neck had deteriorated to a point where it needed repair.

"My Christmas present was finding out that I was getting a new neck," she said. "Thank the Lord, I had a pain in my shoulder. I thought I've just worn that shoulder out. When the doctor called me (after and MRI), he said 'I really don't know how to tell you this. Your neck is falling apart. We need to get you in to see somebody tomorrow.' It was a no-brainer."

Surgeons implanted a variety of hardware to reinforce Puckett's neck, and except for less mobility in her head movement and a slight rasp in her voice from the surgery, she's back to tooling around to the different schools and handling media calls when an incident occurs.

The accident

In 1967, Duanne Puckett was a vibrant teenager, a stereotypical 16-year-old who was a cheerleader for the Shelbyville High School Red Devils.

It all came crashing down on Feb. 25 when, as she was being driven home from a date, a drunken driver slammed into the rear of the teens' Volkswagen at the corner of 7th and Washington streets.

The impact severed Puckett's spinal cord, leaving her paralyzed from the neck down.

"Through therapy, I got the use of my arms back by the end of March," she said. She was moved to Frazier Rehab in April, and stayed there until she was released at the end of September.

"Then I went back to school and graduated with my class," she said.

Puckett thought she had suffered a pinched nerve, and nobody wanted to tell her the awful truth.

"The Shelbyville Red Devils were one week away from the district tournament and I knew we were going to beat the Shelby County Rockets (defending state champs) that year," she said. "As a cheerleader, that was my main focus. I had to get out of this bed; we're going to the basketball tournament."

Then she made the doctors give her the devastating news: she would never walk again.

"During my physical therapy to get my arms to move, I asked, 'How long does it take for a pinched nerve to go away?' and I see my mother bolt up out of the chair and the physical therapist stammer. I said, 'Mother, he needs to tell me.' "

When the therapist told her she suffered a broken neck, she thought that meant she would die quickly.

"He said, 'Not always. You're one of the fortunate, or unfortunate, ones, however you want to look at it.' "

But the reality didn't set in until doctors asked her what color wheelchair she wanted.

"I knew I couldn't move my legs, but when you say 'wheelchair,' that's permanent sounding," she said. "Of course, my personality showed; I ordered an orange one."

Home-grown

Duanne Puckett is the youngest of three daughters of Jess and Ella Puckett. She boasts that she is a "home-grown, third-generation Shelby Countian."

"People tell me that Jess Puckett will never be dead as long as I'm alive, but I don't know if it's a compliment or an insult," she laughed. "Dad was a public servant, with a capital 'P' and 'S.' "

But, she said, he was also a town character.

"When I was editor of the paper and he was an executive with the industrial foundation, (at) industry open houses, he would be acting like a nut and I would take off my name tag so they would not see Puckett related to Puckett." Then she grinned. "He was one of my biggest obstacles in life."

Not really. Jess Puckett, a well-known merchant and Shelbyville mayor, councilman and clerk, was Duanne's legs when she needed them, and is her inspiration today.

"Dad mortgaged the business and the house countless times to pay the medical bills," she said. "I always tell people he was 55 when I got hurt, and carried me, literally for 13 years, and he continued to lift my wheelchair until six months before he died in 1995 (he was 80)."

And she's thinking about taking up where he left off.

"I might run for city council. Who knows?" she said. "I have no intentions of being mayor, though -- the city would be bankrupt."

Her mother was equally a solid rock when she was growing up.

"I had terrific parents. Mother was the epitome of unconditional love. Between Dad's grit and humor and Mom's compassion, that's why I survived."

Despite all that happened, Puckett wasn't then and still isn't bitter.

"I've had a great life," she said. "I know a lot of people see this first about me, which is natural. But it's been so far removed from my life, I don't think about that much. I do most everything everybody else does -- but my shoes don't get wet when it rains. I don't wear my shoes out; I get tired of them."

She never received the court-ordered compensation from the driver who hit her, and his only punishment was to spend one hour in jail.

"Money would not have made me walk," she said. "But it would have made my parents' lives a lot easier."

Bug

When Puckett rolls into a room or gymnasium at any of the schools, the youngsters generally greet her with a hearty "Bug!" That's how she likes it.

"I'm not Miss Puckett; that's just is not me," she said.

Her grandmother and sisters renamed her Doodybug after the Howdy Doody show.

"When my niece and nephew were born, my sisters decided they didn't want me to be Aunt Duanne, and they thought Bug sounded fun. Their friends called me bug, and when I started volunteering at Southside as a writing coach 18 years ago, they called me Bug. It stuck."

The journalist

Puckett's newspaper career started Jan. 16, 1971. Bob Fay, owner of The Shelby News, called Jess Puckett and said he needed a reporter. His response: "When do you want her to start?"

"So I rolled under this desk," she said, showing off the old roll-top desk she commandeered from then Sentinel-News Publisher Jim Edelen after spending a quarter century behind it.

"On my 25th anniversary with The Sentinel-News, they gave you tokens of appreciation -- I think it was supposed to be an antique clock," she said. "I approached the publisher and said, 'I don't need a clock; I'm going to take my desk.' It's been here ever since."

That was in 1998.

"The day I resigned I got a call telling me I was being inducted into the Kentucky Journalism Hall of Fame," she said.

Puckett so impressed then-schools Superintendent Leon Mooneyhan that he hired her to direct public relations.

"Duanne is simply a wonderful human being," Mooneyhan said. "She has the spirit that every parent would want their child to have. That spirit sets her apart from many individuals and makes her a special person."

He said he was impressed with her attitude.

"She has no bitterness and no self-pity. She loves life and never complained about things, and that's remarkable," he said. "As a journalist, she was hard-nosed, she pursued a story vigorously."

Current Superintendent James Neihof couldn't agree more.

"Recently I was reading of the importance of optimism in leadership and immediately my mind went to Duanne," he said. "Duanne Puckett is the epitome of optimism. Her constant desire to grow as a professional, coupled with her keen mind and experience in the newspaper business equip her to be one of the best school public relations coordinators in the state of Kentucky."

The example

Puckett uses her disability to warn teens of the dangers of mixing alcohol and cars.

"I do Prom Talk at the high school about drinking and driving," she said. "I'm a sitting result of that."

She said her speech hits home when she tells the students that the top of her head was shaved and that, for the rest of her life, somebody will dress her.

"That kind of shocks them," she said. "It's something very personal to share, but they need to know that."

Bouncing back

Puckett, already pondering a run for public office, has no plans to slow down anytime soon.

"As long as my health holds out, I still have several years in me," she said. "That's important. It's good for you physically and mentally to stay active."

And one fan wishes he could be more like her. Deputy Sheriff Ray White, who is resource officer at East Middle School, said he has a lot of respect for Puckett.

"Shoot, what she's been through? I wish I had half of her gumption," he said.

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