Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.

-Special Olympics Oath

Three wonderful individuals touched my life last week. I didn’t even see it coming and I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried. They all opened my eyes to something that was blind to me last week at this time.

Special Olympics came to Ames Thursday to have a celebration. That’s really what it is . a celebration. It’s disguised by sporting events, but it’s really one joyous festival.

As I walked up the steps to Hilton Coliseum to the opening ceremonies, I heard something interesting. If happiness could have a sound, this was it.

More than 3,000 athletes were here to celebrate who they are and what they can do. My first thought was “wow.”

Rich Fellingham, president of Special Olympics Iowa, President Gregory Geoffroy, and Ames Mayor Ted Tedesco all welcomed the athletes. Then a man who’s just as important took the podium.

Mike McDonald is one of many who are global messengers for Special Olympics. These people speak around their area and inform others about the experiences they’ve had with Special Olympics.

McDonald had been involved Special Olympics for 22 years and one moment stood out in his mind. He told us of the time he came up to bat in a softball game with a chance to win the game. He hit the ball so hard he broke the bat in half . a home run . a gold medal.

“What I like most about Special Olympics is the way it makes me feel,” McDonald said.

I was hooked from that point on, but little did I know it was just the beginning.

The next morning I walked into Beyer Hall to watch some swimming and heard Jock Jams blasting from the sound system.

“Leeeeeeetttt’s get ready to rummmble!”

This was a full-scale party.

I was there to see my friend’s aunt Michelle Rosendahl compete in her first Special Olympics. She pulled away from the competition late and took gold in the 25-meter freestyle. She proudly displayed her medal to anyone and everyone.

Her coach said Michelle had been training three months for the event. When I asked her if the training was difficult, her response was immediate.

“No, easy,” Rosendahl said.

And how did it feel to win?

“It feels good,” Rosendahl said. “I’m happy.”

Happy enough that I bet that medal was more important to her than oxygen at that point. That seemed to be the feeling among all of the athletes. Smiles, laughter and encouragement were abundant. Not once did I see anyone who wasn’t happy.

I met Brian Bates later that morning. Brian was a former athlete who was elected to serve on the Special Olympics of Iowa Board of Directors. Brian hasn’t missed the Special Olympics in 12 years.

“I think my biggest thrill with Special Olympics is when I got to go to the in Connecticut for cycling,” Bates said.

In 1999 he was named the Special Olympian of the year for Iowa.

After competing for several years in various sports he thought he could give coaching a try. He now leads a group of athletes from the Iowa City area, where he lives and works.

His favorite part of the Special Olympics is being with the athletes and serving them. After giving his all for a number of years, he’s giving back to others.

On Saturday, the last day of the Special Olympics, I decided to attend the track and field events.

As I watched from the bleachers a little guy caught my eye. He had been sitting patiently with his teammates watching the race. Now, he was yelling encouragement at the top of his lungs.

He hopped off the bleachers and moved his way to the edge of the track – pushing adults twice his size out of the way. He kept supporting until the last person had crossed the finish line.

I decided I had to talk to this little man.

His name was Michael Bindel and he was competing in his first Special Olympics at the age of 10.

He patiently spelled out his name for me with a gold medal hanging around his neck.

“Yesterday I got two of `em, from softball throw and standing long jump,” he told me eagerly.

Michael told me he was from Kentucky. I later told his teacher this and she informed me that Michael was a foster child. He once lived in Kentucky, but now he goes to Lincoln Elementary in Fort Madison.

His teacher said he’s a joy to have around and is very nice and supportive.

I could tell.

As I turned to leave, I heard a young voice yell out “byyeee!” It was Michael. I shook his hand and thanked him again for talking to me.

I only talked to him for five minutes, but now I couldn’t stop smiling.

As I walked away, I wondered what impairment Michael has . or any of the athletes I met? It doesn’t matter, I thought.

Thank you Michelle, Brian and Michael. You made my weekend.

Jeff Raasch is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Odebolt.