Mission Moment: The Profound Impact of Little Things

Spinal cord injuries can mean that small everyday actions bring enormous frustrations. Take putting on deodorant or eating a quick snack, for example—things most people do without a thought. Jared Grier, Shepherd Center rehabilitation engineer, working with occupational therapists Tori Le, MOT, OTR/L, and Lauren Ross, OTR/L/MS, invented devices to make these seemingly simple actions easier—and managed to win national recognition from the Academy of Spinal Cord Injury Professionals (ASCIP). 

Their Deodorant Grasping Aid allows someone with no gripping ability to apply almost any brand of deodorant under their arms. And with the SelfFeeder, those with no use of their upper extremities can thrust their chins forward to force snacks into a tray and their mouths. Both devices can be assembled with parts produced by a 3D printer. 

“In a spinal cord injury, everything in your life changes,” Jared says. “It may not seem exciting, but to enable our patients to use their favorite deodorant can have a profound effect.” Jared, 28, knows about spinal cord injuries. He overcame his own challenges after falling out of a tree in 2015, just after his freshman year at Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Massachusetts. He spent three months at Shepherd Center making the most of the intensive therapy. He also participated in an early stage research study on stem cell use in spinal injuries. “I went from being completely dependent to leaving in a manual chair and being independent with a number of my personal-care tasks but still needing a good bit of help,” he says. Back home in Connecticut, he continued pushing himself and was able to re-enter college and graduate in 54 2019. After a couple of other jobs, he was hired by Shepherd in 2021. In addition to creating devices that now have widespread use, Jared works with patients and therapists to create custom solutions to specific challenges. “I can directly see the impact of the work I do,” he says. 

Sometimes he can also hear it, as with Clevance Weekes. 

Clevance, 53, a native of the British colony of Montserrat, was “dealing with the sorrow of not being able to play piano” at Shepherd Center in 2021. He had studied classical piano and voice, discovered jazz in high school, and, as a part-time minister in Franklin, Georgia, complemented every sermon with a piece of music. He was injured on his way to work at a heavy-equipment company when he lost control of his truck, flipped several times, and hit a tree. After the crash, he says, “I knew my feet could not sustain the [piano] pedal.” 

Recreational therapist Katie Harmon, CTRS, and physical therapist Lindsay Mayr, PT, DPT, asked Jared to design a piano pedal extension for Clevance. Jared delivered, and Clevance wept with joy the first time he tried it. “Words cannot express what returned,” with his ability to play again, he says. Using the extension helped strengthen his legs, and now he no longer depends on it. But he keeps it near his piano as a reminder of the day on the seventh floor of Shepherd Center when he got his music back. 

“At Shepherd they don’t go around saying they love you,” he says. “They demonstrate it.”

Written by Gayle White 

This story is an excerpt from “Mission Moments: 50 Years of Rebuilding Lives One Moment at a Time,” a book celebrating Shepherd’s 50th anniversary in 2025.