A Premier Wheelchair Racer and Motivator

A FEW WEEKS AFTER he lost the use of his legs in a construction accident in 1985, Bruce Cornell was recovering in a rehab hospital where he heard a lot about the things he was no longer going to be able to do. Among them: no more driving his truck-he would need a van with a lift.

One day he saw an open-top Jeep pull into the hospital parking lot. The driver picked up a pair of wheels and a frame from inside it and quickly assembled a wheelchair before climbing in. He then pulled another wheelchair out of the back, pushed it into the hospital and introduced himself to Cornell. His name was Jim Knaub, one of the top wheelchair racers in the country.

His message was different.

"Don't let someone tell you what you can't do," he told Cornell, who went on to race against Knaub and kept driving his truck. "I'm going to tell you what you can do."

Knaub, who died Nov. 18 at the age of 68, was one of the most dominant wheelchair racers in the U.S. in the 1980s and '90s. He won the wheelchair division of the Boston Marathon five times and the Los Angeles Marathon three times.

For the rest of his life, he both encouraged and challenged people who were recovering from life-changing accidents, often with the refrain: "Why walk when you can fly?" Born in Corona, Calif., on Jan. 5, 1956, Knaub was training to be an Olympic pole vaulter in 1978 when a car ran into him while he was on his motorcycle. It paralyzed him from the waist down.

After the accident, he didn't come by his optimistic outlook right away. He was depressed. Bob Seagren, a friend and Olympic pole vaulter, hired Knaub at his travel agency, giving him a distraction. One day, Knaub started talking about wheelchair racing. It was transformative. "It gave him a purpose," Seagren said. "He'd get up and he'd train on Pacific Coast Highway, every day pushing I don't know how many miles."

At one point Knaub held every world record for wheelchair-racing events between 5Ks and marathons, said Bob Babbitt, co-founder of Competitor magazine and the Challenged Athletes Foundation. His success led to inspirational appearances on TV shows like "M*A*S*H," "The ATeam" and "Happy Days."

He gave his medals away to people he thought could use some encouragement. But Knaub didn't want to be just a feel-good story. He wanted to be seen as an athlete, and his sport to be treated like a sport complete with rivalries and drama.

He trash-talked opponents and harangued race officials: Why wasn't there a wheelchair division at the running event? Why wasn't there equal prize money, or any prize money? Even after all the wins, he still fought against being seen as less than capable. Babbitt once noticed a nickel on the floor at Knaub's home and tried to pick it up for him, only to discover that it was glued there to make a point. Knaub told him, "Lesson No. 1, Babbitt-don't ever underestimate anybody."