At the first Special Olympics race St. Louis County Police Sgt. Mark Koeller ever saw, one of the five competitors fell about a quarter way around the track. “The young lady banged up her knee,” Koeller recalls, “so the others helped her up and put their arms around her and walked with her the rest of the way. At the finish line, they stopped and let her cross first.”
That’s sportsmanship in the Special Olympics. And it touched Koeller so deeply, he volunteered for the next 17 years.
There’s a longstanding partnership between law enforcement and Special Olympics, which is especially helpful because the officers have mastered logistics and crowd planning, and this year’s are a doozy. As chair, Koeller’s been figuring out how to get electricity and water out to a remote site and shuttle guests from nearby parking lots.
Why bargain for such challenges? Because St. Louis Lambert International Airport is hosting the first-ever STL Day on the Runway. The event opens at 7 a.m. on Sunday, April 15; the 5K Race and Family Fun Walk starts at 9 a.m. And the setting adds a distinct coolness, because the athletes will be able to run or walk (or roll, if they’re using a wheelchair) on a long smooth runway, improving their speed.
Teams (supported by money and muscle from members from UMB Bank, Eastman Chemical Company, the Chase Park Plaza, and others in the corporate community) will then compete to pull a Fed Ex cargo plane. STL Day on the Runway is also a fundraiser: About 65 percent of those served by Special Olympics Missouri—individuals with intellectual disabilities and their families—live at or below poverty level. Missouri comes through: The state ranks sixth in the world, Koeller says, for its success raising funds for Special Olympics.
The biggest goal for April 15, though, is to make this “a family-fun community event,” Koeller adds. “We want to make sure everybody’s included.” So the rest of the festival (not counting the deliciousness dished up by seven food trucks) is free.
The athletes are involved throughout: One will sing the national anthem to open the event; others will present medals and trophies; several will coach the public in the rules and techniques of bocce ball.
Longtime participant Dakota Steffens, a senior at Seckman High School, plans to investigate bocce ball himself. “I’ve won nine gold medals—impressive, I must say—in track and field and also softball throw. But I tried bocce once, and I didn’t do so well.” He describes the ball landing way off the court and the resulting
consternation, then sighs. “It’s all about patience.” Then he brightens and assures me that he may eventually win a gold medal in bocce, too.
Steffens is way competitive. He’d rather use his walker than wheelchair, because he wants to be as independent as possible. “You’re competing against yourself,” he explains. “You have to push your limits. And it just makes you feel good when you cross that line. The joy you get—I can’t explain it.
“Competition teaches acceptance,” he adds. “It teaches you to just involve everyone.”
How does he cope when he doesn’t win? “I congratulate the other athletes, because they worked just as hard if not harder, so I congratulate no matter what. I like to see other people reach their potential, too.”