Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story
Christopher shared something about his story with me that wasn't shared in the documentary

Like many of you, I grew up inspired by Superman. He was my childhood hero—the ultimate symbol of strength, hope, and doing the impossible. But beyond admiration for the character, I also deeply respected Christopher Reeve, not just as an actor, but as a fellow equestrian.
As a horse trainer and horse show judge, I have spent countless hours in the saddle and in the show ring. The sport demands precision, balance, and a deep connection with the horse—something Reeve undoubtedly understood. So, when I had the opportunity to attend a conference around 1998, where Christopher Reeve was the keynote speaker, it was an unforgettable moment.
A Lesson from the Fall
Reeve shared the story of his tragic accident, which took him from playing Superman on screen to facing unimaginable challenges in real life. He was competing in a cross-country event, a discipline that mirrors natural hunt field obstacles—logs, ditches, water crossings, and more. But his mind wasn’t on the present jump. Instead, he was thinking ahead to a particularly difficult obstacle later in the course.
And then, the unexpected happened.
He fell at a modest fence—one he had jumped many times before, a simple obstacle that didn’t appear especially difficult or imposing. Yet, in that moment, everything changed.
But rather than dwell on regret, he used his experience to teach us something profound:
Stay in the moment.
As an equestrian, I understood exactly what he meant. So often, we focus on the biggest challenges ahead, assuming they will be the ones that define us. We worry about the looming difficulties, forgetting that every step along the way matters. Christopher’s story was a reminder that life demands our full attention, not just in the hard moments, but in the ordinary ones as well.
Reflections on Super/Man
Recently, I watched Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story, a documentary about his life after the accident. It beautifully captured his unbreakable determination, his advocacy for spinal cord research, and his belief that one day, he would walk again. He cited studies suggesting that nerves might have their own memory, fueling his hope for recovery.
Yet, one thing felt missing.
The film didn’t explore whether faith played a role in his journey—whether he leaned on it, struggled with it, or rejected it altogether. For a man who faced such a dramatic transformation, faith—or even the search for it—seems like an important part of the story. Perhaps the filmmakers chose not to include it, or perhaps it wasn’t a central theme in his life. But as someone who believes that faith provides strength beyond human resilience, I would have loved to hear more about how he made sense of his suffering and hope.
Now, He Flies Again
Christopher Reeve’s time on earth ended before he could witness the cure he so tirelessly pursued. But I believe that now, in a way beyond what he imagined, he can truly fly again.
His legacy isn’t just in the films he made or the foundation he built—it’s in the lessons he left behind. Strength isn’t just about physical power; it’s about resilience, courage, and staying present in the moment. And maybe that’s the most superhuman thing of all.
For those of us who admired him—not just as a hero on screen, but as a fellow rider, a fighter, and a man of incredible will—his story remains a powerful reminder that even when life takes everything from us, we can still find purpose, hope, and the strength to move forward.
Whatever challenges lie ahead, let’s remember his words:
Stay in the moment.
Always Toward the Light,
John Henry