We look forward to sharing more stories of hope, humor, and hard work with you next year and for the next 50 years and beyond!

1. Mission Moment: Finding Beauty

While Stacy Williams participated in rehabilitation at Shepherd Center, her husband Zach found some comfort in music.

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here.  

2. Blessings Abound

Ten years after Price Woodward survived a stroke, he and his wife, Tammy, reflect on their journey.

3. A New Life in Knoxville: Former Patient Joins College Baseball Team

Grayson Pope's journey from TBI rehabilitation to attending the University of Tennessee

4. Back to Designing After a Concussion

Jewelry designer Elizabeth Newton found the support she needed at Shepherd’s Complex Concussion Unit

5. A Breath of Fresh Air

Recreational therapist Jacob Carenbauer, CTRS, loves helping patients get out in the community and back to the activities they love.

6. Finding Renewed Purpose

For more than a decade after her multiple sclerosis (MS) diagnosis, Kristine Werner Ozug has advocated on behalf of the MS community.

7. Wife, Caregiver, Drill Sergeant, Teammate

Heather Millican shares a caregiver’s perspective on her early days at Shepherd Center with her husband, Jeff. 

8. Rehabilitation Rewired: The Hulse Spinal Cord Injury Lab

In the Hulse Spinal Cord Injury Lab, Electrical Stimulation Is Making Waves

9. U.S. News & World Report Names Shepherd Center Among Best Hospitals for 2025-2026 in Rehabilitation

Since 2008, Shepherd Center has been ranked among the top rehabilitation hospitals.

10. Finding New Frontiers: Celebrating the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation

Deborah Backus gives a tour of the James M. Cox Innovation Institute on the top floor of the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation

11. A New Outlook

After SHARE’s Russell Gore, M.D, questioned Dylan Sims' early-onset dementia diagnosis, Dylan's life changed for the better.

12. Marking 50 Years of Milestones

Shepherd Center Anniversary Traditions Delight Patients, Staff, and Supporters

The idea for the get-together grew from a conversation between Shepherd’s first recreation therapist, Barb Trader, who joined Shepherd in 1978, and Paula Maiberger, who worked in rec therapy with Barb for several years in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

“I realized how much I missed everybody,” Barb explains. “We had such a great team. They were really inventive and excited about what they were doing…. I think we all knew we were part of something really special. We enjoyed spending a lot of time together. We were excited about the fact that we were inventing things. You know, people would get ideas, and we’d try them out…. Every day we came to work knowing we were doing something important — that we were spending our time in a way that had real meaning for other people. That's kind of hard to get in the workplace.”

“Shepherd's just amazing. And we did really amazing things with our patients. And I think that was a draw [to return for the reunion,]” Paula says.

They note that several alums earned their doctorates and are now teaching therapeutic recreation at universities. “And so, they wanted to come back and see what else we're doing,” Paula explains. “And oh my gosh, everybody was blown away by Shepherd. Blown away. Shepherd is just so unique.”

As the gregarious group mingled, they swapped stories about the trials and triumphs of taking patients rafting on the Chattahoochee, to Atlanta Braves games at the old Fulton County Stadium, and sailing on Lake Lanier. They were joined by Shepherd Center co-founder Alana Shepherd, David Apple, M.D., Shepherd Center’s first medical director, and several current members of Shepherd’s recreation therapy department. Kelly Edens, CTRS, recreation therapy manager, spoke to the alums about the lasting impact their work has had on Shepherd Center and how the program they helped build has continued to evolve and grow as an essential part of therapy at Shepherd Center.

“I want to thank you all,” Edens said, “Without your dedication and support, we wouldn't be where we are today. Starting with Dr. Apple, what you all started is huge for us. We sit with all disciplines across the entire center — we're right in there with speech, OT, and PT. They know who we are. They know what we do. They tap us now, ‘Hey, can we do this?’ Which is really cool, but it's because of what you all started.”

Barb Trader recalled her first impressions of Shepherd, then Shepherd Spinal Center, when she visited in 1978.

“I liked what I saw. I was actually really energized by it, pretty moved by it because we had to walk right through the therapy gym to find a PT at West Paces Ferry Hospital way back in the day.”

After that first visit, Barb wrote a letter to Shepherd, suggesting they hire her as a therapeutic recreation specialist and sharing some ideas for activities she could lead for patients.

At first, the answer was no, that the hospital wasn’t in a position to hire her, Barb explained. Then came the part of the story that has become a chapter in Shepherd lore.

Two weeks later, Barb got a phone call — Dr. Apple had read her letter and wanted to start a recreation therapy program. He felt so strongly about the program's importance that he decided to pay Barb’s salary himself for her first year. From there, recreation therapy at Shepherd was born. It has grown from a staff of one in that first year to a staff of 42 today, making it the largest program of its type in the country.

Recreation therapy at Shepherd begins with identifying a patient’s goals and opportunities for growth. With their recreation therapy specialist, they create a plan tailored to their needs and aspirations. And while Shepherd’s Recreation Therapy Program helps patients lead healthy and active lifestyles as independently as possible, it goes further, helping patients redefine what’s possible, discover new passions, and explore existing interests in new ways. The reunion attendees played a crucial role in making the program what it is today.

“Rec therapy is critically important for all of our patients’ success,” said Shari McDowell, PT, DPT, FASIA, Shepherd Center's chief operating officer, as she thanked the alumni. “We could not have the outcomes we have for our patients without these team members and without what you laid as a foundation. So, I just wanted to say thank you. We're so happy you're here today and excited that you're going to see the growth — and know that you started it.”

After the remarks from McDowell and Edens, the group toured the hospital to see some of the many changes that had taken place since they worked at Shepherd.    

“Some of them hadn't even seen what we would just call the ‘new building’ back then, the Marcus-Woodruff building (built in 1992 and expanded in 2004), so there was a lot for people to take in,” Paula explained.

That evening, the alums gathered at Paula’s house to share a meal and more stories.

“We all had so many stories to tell about funny things that happened on outings or really moving things that happened on outings,” Barb says. “We all felt like Shepherd was a place where there was a sense of hopefulness and resilience, and the glass was always half full, not half empty. And that was kind of a shared, almost exuberance…. I think there's a lot of resilience in human beings that you get reminded of every single day [at Shepherd].”

Collectively, the group’s careers at the hospital spanned from 1978 to 2000, and many hadn’t seen each other in years, but Paula says that didn’t matter.

“It was just magical. It was so much fun. It's just that we were just a good, connected group, and it felt exactly the same when we all got back together.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

 

Shepherd Center’s anniversary has been celebrated since the early days — in fact, what’s now Spinal Column magazine evolved from a newsletter first sent out in August 1976, commemorating Shepherd’s first year of serving patients. Over time, the anniversary, and eventually, “Anniversary Week,” have expanded to celebrate patients, staff, and the community overall. And for this year’s major milestone, celebrations were extra special. 

At the center-wide employee luncheon on Aug. 18, staff members enjoyed a barbecue lunch and received some 50th anniversary swag. Lunches at Peachtree Park, home of the SHARE Military Initiative and the Complex Concussion Clinic, as well as at Shepherd Pathways, ensured all employees got to celebrate the anniversary. 

Additionally, anniversary week is a time to celebrate employee tenure — the average length of service at Shepherd is 8.4 years, and each August, those celebrating anniversaries in increments of five are invited to the milestone luncheon. This year, 237 employees celebrated a major anniversary, with 14 celebrating 35 years of service or more. 

“I didn’t plan to be at Shepherd for 25 years. It’s like a good friendship or marriage — you just stay in it,” says attendee, Dawn Pennington, a data quality analyst on the patient financial services team. “I was very happy to have that opportunity to see colleagues [celebrating] their 5-year anniversary and those [celebrating] their 25-year anniversary like me.” 

This year’s anniversary week also brought some extra festivities, including burying Shepherd Center’s 50th anniversary time capsule. At a short ceremony, hospital co-founder Alana Shepherd spoke about the hospital’s history and invited attendees to imagine what the next 50 years will bring. Jamie Shepherd, MBA, MHA, FACHE, Shepherd Center’s president and chief executive officer, also spoke about objects included in the capsule and how future Shepherd patients and employees may react to them. 

Another standout event from anniversary week was the 50th anniversary party at the Atlanta History Center. With special guests like Georgia Governor and First Lady Brian and Marty Kemp, as well as other state leaders, former patients, Shepherd staff who’ve worked at the hospital for over 35 years, and board members, the party showcased Shepherd’s widespread impact and influence on the state of Georgia and the city of Atlanta. 

The city and state, along with Fulton County, also acknowledged Shepherd Center on formal recognition days throughout the year. Other influential Georgia healthcare facilities, businesses, and organizations joined in on the celebration, sharing anniversary well-wishes on social media. Dignitaries, including Atlanta Mayor Andre Dickens and Georgia Sen. Raphael Warnock, also sent messages of congratulations. 

Even as Shepherd Center closes the chapter on its 50th year, celebrating milestones will continue — cheering on patients at events like Project Rollway, gathering in therapy gyms for patient graduations, sharing a slice of cake for employee “workiversaries,” and busting out dance moves at The Legendary Party. With resilient patients, unwavering staff, and a steadfast community, there’s never a shortage of milestones to celebrate.

Written by Erin Kenney

On this Tuesday night, the menu is lasagna, chicken marsala, and other Italian favorites dished up by business leaders in the Atlanta Kiwanis Club. Music blends into chatter as hungry patients and their families reconnect with friends and begin to form new friendships. 

Shepherd’s Tuesday Night Family Dinner “is one of the highlights of my week,” says Lynda Tuesca, attending with her son, Ben, who was injured in a car crash. “We’re all happier when we’re sitting around a dinner table. You hear what brought everybody here, then you know them when you see them in the halls and elevators.” After the meal, there are icebreaker questions, followed by games such as trivia and bingo. Tonight’s question is, “If you could be on a TV game show, which one would you choose?” FBI agent Michael Hynes, who is at Shepherd for rehabilitation for a spinal cord injury, cracks up the room with his answer, “The Bachelor.”

Anna Elmers, M.D., started the weekly dinners in 2016 with Renee Houle, a grateful former Shepherd patient. At first, Dr. Elmers and Renee cooked and served the dinners themselves, with the help of their families and friends. “It was a way to create community among my patients, so they knew they weren’t alone in their catastrophic injuries,” says Dr. Elmers, who stepped back from full-time work at Shepherd in 2023. Sometimes people stayed to talk long after dishes had been cleared, she says. 

The dinners were suspended during the COVID epidemic, but they came back bigger than ever under the leadership of Jennifer Heffron, engagement coordinator for Shepherd Center Foundation. Jennifer, a neighbor of Dr. Elmers, had helped with the dinners as a volunteer. “They’re a lot of fun,” Jennifer says. “We get so many repeat sponsors and volunteers because everybody loves them.”

Inpatients, outpatients, even former patients are welcome. Matthew Ryan walks down from the SHARE Military Initiative on Peachtree Park Drive, where he is a client at SHARE, every Tuesday. “A lot of times we’re off in our rooms just doing our own thing,” he says. “These dinners give us a chance to fellowship together. A lot of people can’t afford to go out to dinner because their finances are tied up in recovery.” 

Matthew says he has brought several of his fellow SHARE clients to the dinners. “The dinners are just like your family away from home,” he says. “They keep you sane and keep your spirits up.” And, he adds with a grin, “the desserts are always good.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Shepherd has become a leader in the injury prevention community through constant innovation, focusing not simply on behavior change, but also on safe road systems, advocating for better engineering and infrastructure, and building local coalitions to take on these life-and-death issues long-term. “When I started in 2014, we mostly produced flyers and brochures,” Emma says.  “But it’s evolved into much more of an evidence-based public health approach, targeting the top mechanisms of injury for the patients we treat—motor vehicle crashes, violence, falls, and, in  the summer, diving.” 

It may be impossible to tell how many people were not injured because of any intervention, but statistics show that the safe-highway system approach, which focuses on safe road users, safe vehicles, safe speeds, safe roads, and post-crash care, works. “They’ve been doing it in Europe for decades, and in Australia and New Zealand,” Emma says. “They’ve saved lives. We know it’s possible. The behavioral change piece is still there, but it’s with the assumption that we’re humans and we’re going to make mistakes. So, how can we lessen the impact of those mistakes? It’s exciting to be on the cutting edge of change.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Over the last five decades, Shepherd Center has evolved from a six-bed hospital specializing in spinal cord injury care into the premier neurorehabilitation facility of the Southeast, offering state-of-the-art care for patients experiencing the most complex conditions, including spinal cord injuries, brain injuries, stroke, and multiple sclerosis. 

The FY25 Annual Report: On a Mission showcases how Shepherd staff members, patients and families, and supporters are on a mission — to provide top-notch care, return to their communities and what they love most, and to support the recovery of current and future patients. The report also details the past year’s achievements and progress, including new buildings and renovations to Shepherd’s existing facilities, as well as other milestones achieved in Pursuing Possible: The Campaign for Shepherd Center.

The full report is available for download here.  

Thank You!

Thank you to our models, their families and friends, Shepherd Center staff, and everyone who made this event possible! And a special thank you to Ashley Kim, for eight years of leading Project Rollway, as well as all our event attendees and sponsors. 

Donors 
Andee’s Army 
Gas South 
Atlanta Sound and Lighting 
Haug Barron Law Group 

Clothing Partners 
Elk Head Clothing 
London Trading Company 
Patagonia 
Onward Reserve 
Megan Huntz 

DJ 
Jewels Beats 

Graphic Designer 
Eight Ball Creative by Austin Jones 

Photographers 
Laura Barnard 
Drew Oswald 

Hair & Makeup Specialists 
Sam Henry 
Morgan Hughes 
Kaitlyn Radler 
Dani Maslaney 
Alyssa Attride 
Tati Hayton 
Christel Irick 
Kristia Stokes 

Written by Erin Kenney

The Adolescent Haunted House started as a way to incorporate some Halloween fun into therapy, playing games like “Cheesy Face,” where patients would throw cheese puffs at someone with a face full of shaving cream to see how many could stick.

Now, with support from Andee's Army, the event is more like a typical haunted house experience — a one-way path through a series of creepy scenes, hanging cobwebs, and, of course, jump scares from adolescent patients and staff.

The haunted house gives patients the opportunity to practice their dexterity and motor skills by helping make props and set up.

The event also helps the adolescent program form connections within the Atlanta community — they’ve partnered with Atlanta Sound and Lighting for professional-grade light and sound effects, and they once had the makeup artists from Netherworld provide spooky transformations for the participating patients.

Another tradition is the annual Halloween Costume Contest. Held in the cafeteria, tables and chairs are pushed aside to create a runway for participants — which include staff and patients in a variety of categories, like best group costume, best individual costume, and best patient/staff group costume.

Don’t let all the holiday fun be misleading — haunted houses and costume contests aren’t a way to blow off work or therapy sessions. For patients, these fun traditions can offer a break in the routine while still incorporating therapy goals. For staff, the day can be a way to decompress from the challenges they may face in their roles, all while building camaraderie within their teams and with other departments across the hospital.

“I love it when the other departments come [to the Adolescent Haunted House], because they get so scared,” Dugger says with a laugh. “It brings the whole hospital back to that family feeling that I really love.”

Written By Teresa Weaver and Erin Kenney. Some passages in this story came from Shepherd’s 50th anniversary book, "Mission Moments: 50 Years of Transforming Lives."

And Shepherd Center’s new Institute of Higher Learning, which offers medical and psychology fellowships, is an important step in fostering the next generation of neurorehabilitation experts, says Chief Medical Officer Michael Yochelson, M.D. Shepherd currently hosts fellowships in spinal cord injury medicine and brain injury medicine, neuropsychology, rehabilitation psychology, and speech-language pathology, among others. “The clinical work being done here is so exceptional, and the volume of patients we have in all these different areas is so much higher than most other places, to be able to train at a place like Shepherd is really important. We know we can’t provide these services to every patient who needs them. But we can train people to go out into the world, whether to rural areas or another city, and help provide better care.” 

Chief Nursing Officer Tiffany LeCroy, MSN, RN, CRRN, FNP-C, ACNS-BC, FARN, also keeps an eye on the future, making it a priority to manage potential nursing shortages—an industry-wide problem since COVID-19—by developing and maintaining pipelines with local universities. “We’re doing a lot more to get students here earlier, as sophomores rather than juniors,” Tiffany says. “We have a lot of partnerships with universities to host our team members as clinical instructors. In 2024, we got funding through the Shepherd Impact Council to offer nursing scholarships. 

“We’re doing a lot of things to help support the new nurses,” she adds. “Yes, it’s to help Shepherd, but it’s also to help the community. We’re all in this together.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

For Chris and fellow therapist Brian Tanner, PT, DPT, NCS, teasing is a way to keep the atmosphere lighthearted while pushing their young charges to work hard and stay positive. “I think it’s kind of a trust- building exercise,” Brian says. “If I’m vulnerable enough for you to make fun of me, then you can trust me to get you to your goals in life.” 

Teenagers at Shepherd have the same concerns as any of their peers. “They’re trying to find their identity,” Brian says. “That doesn’t change because you have a catastrophic injury. In fact, it might be exacerbated by having an injury, because who you thought you were going to be may not turn out to be who you are.” 

“The fun part is finding different ways to connect with these kids to get them motivated,” Chris says, “like playing video games, or listening to rap, or talking about their boyfriend or girlfriend.” 

Shepherd treats about 60 inpatients with spinal cord injuries and 25 inpatients with brain injuries ages 12 to 17 each year. Adolescents with brain injuries typically need time to progress their cognitive and behavioral abilities and will begin interacting with their peers during their time at the Pathways day program. Those with spinal cord injuries are cohorted right away. 

The Adolescent Program takes an interdisciplinary approach that includes family involvement, stigma management, and self- advocacy. With a teacher and academic coordinator on site, there also is a major emphasis on facilitating their return to school, whether that’s middle school, high school, or college. More than 90% of the adolescents with spinal cord injuries go back to school within two weeks of discharge, and 95% of those graduate with their class. Shepherd Center staff members often visit schools with their patients to ease the transition, check out accessibility, and meet with teachers and classmates. 

But adolescents don’t have to wait until they are discharged to have some typical teenage experiences. Shepherd provides regular Friday outings for pizza, shopping, bowling, movies, and other “normal” activities. One Friday, the group made tie-dyed T-shirts. Another Friday, they piled in a Shepherd bus to go to Zoo Atlanta. And at Shepherd, adolescent patients don’t miss milestones such as homecoming, prom, and senior photos just because they’re in the hospital. Instead, the staff brings these events to them. 

The entire spinal cord injury adolescent population and staff turn out to celebrate whenever a teenager graduates from Shepherd. The culmination of the graduation ceremony is presentation of the Shepherd Center alumni shirt. 

Cam Rhoden, 13, of Jacksonville, Florida, looked a bit sheepish  at being the center of attention when he was ready to leave in the summer of 2024. Cam had been injured while swimming at an  RV park.

Doctors who treated Cam immediately after his injury told his parents he would likely be paralyzed from the neck down. But by the time he left Shepherd Center, he was doing wheelies in a wheelchair. “We never would have dreamed he would make the progress he has made,” says his mother, Brooke. 

“I was scared at first,” Cam says, but joking with Chris and Brian made him feel comfortable. “We picked on each other a lot,” Cam says. “They are both great.” 

Shepherd is only the beginning of their relationships with many patients, both therapists say. “What’s great about the adolescents is that you get to kind of see them grow up,” Chris says. “When patients graduate from high school, they’ll send us a senior picture or an announcement. I had a patient who bought his first house and invited me to the housewarming. We were a part of their lives while they were here, but, with the majority of them, we also get to be a part of their lives going forward.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Before his injury, Pete was an intrepid world traveler, a mountain climber, and a daredevil who barreled into every day with the hubris of youth. Using a wheelchair for mobility meant reimagining all of this. At Shepherd, he began learning all the new life skills he needed to take care of himself, but he was not yet able to picture himself in this new reality. 

Minna Hong, Shepherd’s peer support manager at the time, who had sustained a spinal cord injury in a car crash, was the first to break through to Pete. “When Minna came in and was able to actually execute all these skills I was learning, that’s when it turned from a fairy tale into a real-life story,” Pete says. “If she could do all these things in a wheelchair, I could be successful at this, too.” 

When Minna retired in 2018, her mentee Pete assumed the role of peer support manager, leading a team of eight “representatives of success” — four people with spinal cord injuries, three family members of people who sustained brain injuries, and one military veteran who came home with a traumatic brain injury and post-traumatic stress. 

Research—some done at Shepherd — has proven what the Shepherd team already knew anecdotally — that people learn better from others who have “been there, done that.” And the low-cost intervention of peer support has a direct impact on patient outcomes. With data in hand, Shepherd began engaging peer mentors throughout the continuum of care, offering more opportunities to bridge the theoretical and the practical.

Peer mentors work with nurse educators to teach patients about skin issues, bowel and bladder management, prevention of urinary tract infections, high blood pressure, blood clots, spasms, infection control, and more. They also assist with patients’ psychosocial adjustment. In addition, Shepherd sponsors various peer support groups for anyone in the community with specific conditions, and their families and caregivers. There are monthly dinners as well, along with Zoom groups designed to build inclusive, supportive communities.

“For some patients who come through here, there are days where the light at the end of the tunnel can be just a pinhole,” Pete says. “You don’t even know what you’re working toward, and it’s easier to measure what you’ve lost—what you can’t do anymore. But the most rewarding thing is to see a person regain their sense of self. ‘No, I am me. I can go back to work or protect my family or whatever.’ Once they realize they can do that, it starts the flood of transformative thinking.” 

Two decades ago, horticulture lessons at Shepherd helped Pete begin to reclaim his life. “We went out and found this gigantic, beautiful hydrangea—full bloom, full grandeur,” he recalls. “We reduced it to a tiny fraction of itself, then nurtured and loved it so it grew into a whole new bush — back to full grandeur. That became a metaphor for my experience that I share often with patients. Nature wants us to thrive. All we have to do is tend to our soil.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Wendy looked forward to Sabrina’s arrival each day as she sat with Tyler in Shepherd’s Disorders of Consciousness Program. Tyler’s transfer to Shepherd from acute care had been delayed by a series of medical complications, and Wendy’s time in hospital rooms dragged on. By January 2024, when Tyler was discharged to return to East Tennessee, Wendy had been away from home for more than eight months. It was all made more bearable with Sabrina’s presence. “Miss Sabrina got us through some very emotional hard times,” Wendy says. 

Sabrina is a good example of the difference an employee can make, says Debra Johnson, manager of environmental services at Shepherd. “Everybody loves Sabrina.” 

The primary role of every Shepherd worker, whatever their job title, is to make a stressful time easier for people whose lives have been upended. With patients and their families often staying at Shepherd for months, that makes for a lot of interaction with staff, and a lot of meals prepared and consumed in Shepherd’s cafeteria. “We hope the café will be an oasis for families and patients,” says Joycelyn Saxon, director of food services. 

Joycelyn and her team provide almost 2,000 fresh, healthy meals each day, but they also believe in giving people what they want. And what people want is bacon, she says, laughing. “There’s bacon everywhere.” Sometimes the bacon and other food is served up by a cafeteria line that sounds like a party. “We like to have fun,” Joycelyn says. Holidays—even some ordinary days— bring out festive hats or T-shirts, all in the interest of cheering up patients and their families. 

Yonnett Jackson, who has served meals to folks at Shepherd for more than 25 years, enjoys the exchanges with customers. “We try to make them smile a little bit and get them out of their own heads,” she says. The primary role of every Shepherd worker, whatever their job title, is to make a stressful time easier for people whose lives have been upended. As patients and their families draw strength from staff, employees are inspired by the determination of patients. 

Ronald Lowe has less direct interaction with patients and families than staff members who clean patient rooms or who serve food in the cafeteria, but that doesn’t stop him from forming connections as he cleans public areas, takes trash to the loading dock, looks after bed linens, and replenishes supplies. “I get to know the patients in the hallways more than anything, like when they’re going to therapy or going to lunch,” Ronald says. “I speak to them. I communicate with them, give them a high-five.”

As patients and their families draw strength from staff, employees are inspired by the determination of the patients. The best part of his job, Ronald says, is seeing patients improve. “Shepherd has a way of turning their lives around, making them feel a whole lot better,” he says.

At 66 years old and after nearly 30 years at Shepherd, he is approaching his planned retirement age, but he’s not counting down the days. “This is such a great environment,” he says, “and it’s such a pleasure to work here, I may go past 67.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Eva Van De Water has been thrown from a horse, jostled while wave-jumping on a jet ski, rear-ended in a shuttle bus at a ski resort, and upended while kayaking. Each jolt to her head led her to Shepherd Center’s Complex Concussion Clinic, first with a concussion, then with post-concussion syndrome. 

After the horseback-riding accident in September 2022, Eva felt dazed but never lost consciousness. She continued to work—as a teacher of environmental science and biology at DeKalb County’s Druid Hills High School — even though she felt nauseous, dizzy, and fatigued. She spent her daily planning period napping on a lab table. 

A surgeon friend connected Eva with a neurologist, who referred her to Shepherd Center’s Complex Concussion Clinic, which provides concussion care for individuals who are experiencing longer-lasting or more severe symptoms that require additional evaluation and treatment. There, Jared Potter, M.D., diagnosed her concussion and performed a nerve block. Through Shepherd, she began an intensive therapy regimen that included exercises for her eyes, which were not tracking properly. Every staff member she encountered at Shepherd was warm and helpful, she says, from the support staff to Dr. Potter. “They prioritized my goals,” she says. “They validate what you’re feeling and make you an active partner in your treatment.”

Soon after the first concussion, Eva was back to her thrill-seeking ways — mountain biking, skiing, kayaking, and horseback riding. But her active lifestyle takes a toll. When her concussion symptoms return, she finds relief, encouragement, and support at Shepherd Center. “They’ve given me my life back four times,” she says. “I’m really glad Shepherd is so close. But if I had to travel a long way, it would be worth it. It’s the gold standard of service.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Eight years earlier, Michael Gore, a maintenance technician at a vinyl siding plant in Whiteville, North Carolina, had sustained a T-10 spinal cord injury after falling at work. Since going through rehabilitation at Shepherd Center, he had returned home to his wife and new life. But in 2010, he got a call from Shepherd, asking if he was interested and available to take part in clinical trials for the Indego® exoskeleton. He was all in. 

“I wanted to see how this thing works,” Michael says. “But the main reason I agreed to be part of the trials is to see how this could help people.” 

What followed was a marathon of trial and error, with technological advancements fueling this new partnership between Vanderbilt and Shepherd. Clare Hartigan, PT, MPT, was project manager, eventually spending almost 10 of her 33 years at Shepherd on the Indego project. “It was an incredible opportunity for us, but also for the patients,” she says. “The device allowed them to stand up and walk and exercise. It was such a thrill.” 

The concept sounds a little like the movie “RoboCop,” but the technology is more akin to the Segway® scooter. Essentially, the Indego is a lightweight modular device with components for the lower legs, upper legs, and hips/waist. Electric motors drive the hip and knee joints, while gyroscopes and accelerators anticipate a patient’s steps by subtle upper body motion—similar to how a Segway works: Lean forward, go forward; lean back, stop or sit down.

Every month, Michael Goldfarb, Ph.D., who invented the Indego technology, and his engineering team from Vanderbilt would come to Shepherd, and Michael Gore would travel from North Carolina for a week of intensive testing. “We would spend all day with Michael, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.,” Clare recalls. “Then the engineers would be up until 3 a.m. recoding things. Sometimes they would sleep in the gym. It was a tremendous amount of work.”

Within two years, the team had a fully functional prototype. In 2013, Parker Hannifin, a global leader in motion technologies, bought the Indego and began the extensive process of bringing it to the market, first in Europe and, in 2016, the U.S. Initially, the FDA approved Indego for people with paraplegia or tetraplegia and, two years later, approved it for people recovering from strokes. In 2022, a company called Ekso Bionics bought Indego from Parker Hannifin and continues to market it for personal and therapy use. 

Ultimately, about 50 patients at Shepherd took part in the Indego clinical trials, along with hundreds of other people across the country. Shepherd Center was in the national and international spotlight during the research, and Clare and Michael were in demand all over the world to demonstrate how Indego works. 

“This was my heart, this project,” Clare says. “It was eight years of hard work, but we had such a good time and learned so much. In the end—the whole team would say this—the motivation was to do this for the patients. The fact that we were able to succeed meant everything.”

Success may be best measured in the real-life moments that follow clinical trials, like when Will Hutchins, who sustained a T-7 spinal cord injury in 2013 in a vehicle crash, was able to walk into the football stadium at Heard County High School in Franklin, Georgia, two years later to receive his diploma. Using forearm crutches and wearing the Indego, with Clare walking a half-step behind, Will was able to make the long walk into the stadium, up a ramp, across the stage, and down another ramp. “I was very emotional that day,” Clare says. “There have been a lot of incredible, amazing firsts with this device.”

David Carter, who has used a wheelchair for mobility since sustaining a T-7 injury in a motorcycle crash in 2010 and works now in Peer Support at Shepherd, was able to walk down the aisle at his wedding while wearing the Indego. The device cannot heal a spinal cord injury, of course, but it allows people to experience these moments—celebratory and mundane—in a different way. 

At home in North Carolina, Michael Gore doesn’t wear his Indego every day. “Just when I want to get up and walk around a little,” he says, quietly acknowledging what a remarkable option that is.

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

In 2024, ShepherdCares was especially meaningful, as it honored now-retired CEO Sarah Morrison in the most fitting way possible—creating a fund that supports employees in times of crisis. “The Sarah Morrison Staff Support Fund was the overwhelming winner in a staff vote of potential beneficiaries,” says Alex Seblatnigg, CAVS, director of volunteer services and internal engagement. “We know anecdotally that when something catastrophic happens in a staff member’s life — like a house fire or some other emergency — people at Shepherd reach into their pockets to help. But we want to make sure as an organization we can support our team members if something like that happens.” All the proceeds from the 2024 campaign went to the staff support fund, and moving forward, 50% of the money raised will go to sustain it. 

“In the 14 years I’ve been here, we have always exceeded our goal by at least 10%,” Alex says of ShepherdCares. “During COVID, we 142 had three of our most successful years. Shepherd staff members always step up and find a way. Our participation usually hovers around 85%.” The money raised covers specific needs, such as buying a fully adaptive van for Shepherd’s driving program or exercise equipment that can be used in both spinal cord and brain injury gyms. “We also have funded a new van for our adolescent program so that when the kids go on community outings, they don’t feel like they’re going out in a granny van,” Alex says. “They feel kind of cool.” 

In 2024, the theme song from the “Toy Story” movie, “You’ve Got a Friend in Me,” was the perfect rallying cry. Staff physiatrist James “Woody” Morgan, M.D., seemed the obvious choice to become cowboy Woody, while Burnise Charpentier, LMSW, CCM, a case manager in the Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation unit, was feisty cowgirl Jessie. William Davidson, director of engineering, filled Buzz Lightyear’s boots, vowing to raise funds to infinity and beyond. ShepherdCares may last only five weeks, but behind the scenes, it is almost a year-round undertaking, beginning in February. An eight-person advisory committee starts by picking a theme, recruiting dozens of honorary ambassadors representing every department, and ordering that year’s participation gift, such as stadium cups, fanny packs, collapsible lunchboxes, and other coveted merch bearing the campaign logo. 

Ever-competitive employees anxiously check out raffle results for fabulous prizes, such as Visa gift cards, a reserved parking space for a month, or two days of paid time off. “Everyone gets most excited about the parking space and the PTO,” Alex says. “But mostly, ShepherdCares is competitive because we want to exceed our goals. I think it says so much to our patients and families about how much we care about what we’re able to do for them. We always want to be able to do more if we can.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

“Telling my family was the hardest part,” he told the Georgia Center for Oncology Research & Education. “Family is the most important thing in my life and protecting them from any hardship and pain is my life’s purpose.”

Arthur was diagnosed with prostate cancer in December 2015. While he was pronounced cancer-free a few months later after undergoing surgery, his concern extended beyond his own family to the families of patients at Shepherd Center through a $50 million grant from the Arthur M. Blank Family Foundation supporting the construction of the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences. 

The 160-unit tower at 1860 Peachtree Road more than doubles the hospital’s onsite capacity to house the families of Shepherd patients, alleviating the financial hardship faced by out-of-town relatives who need to stay close by. 

“I’m filled with deep respect and pride that Alana Shepherd and her team have remained an organization that is focused on family,” Arthur says. “Having seen the benefits of loved ones working alongside patients during recovery, I know it is a clinical imperative. It is my hope that this new facility will ease families’ burdens in some small way so they can focus on helping their loved ones heal.” 

Arthur started the Arthur M. Blank Family Foundation in 1995 while he was still with The Home Depot. Since then, the foundation has poured more than $1.5 billion into charitable causes. Blank family philanthropy “is driven by a desire to make a meaningful and positive impact on the lives of individuals and communities,” Arthur says. 

“Arthur has always believed in the importance of our family-centered approach to rehabilitative care,” Alana Shepherd, one of Shepherd Center’s founders, says. “With this investment in our family housing program, Shepherd can help restore the lives of even more who seek our care from around the world.” 

Arthur has also provided support to Shepherd’s SHARE Military Initiative, a program that delivers treatment at no cost to veterans, service members, and first responders with traumatic brain injuries and mental health concerns.

Arthur says he learned about Shepherd Center during the earliest days of The Home Depot and was “impressed with its mission from the beginning.” Some of The Home Depot’s first donations went to Shepherd.

Shepherd Center’s mission “aligns deeply with our values,” he says. “It’s rewarding to be part of an organization that makes such a tangible difference in people’s lives.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

At Shepherd, Erik Shaw, D.O., medical director of the Dean Stroud Spine and Pain Institute at Shepherd, took him off morphine and started him on a medical pump, a spinal stimulator, and physical therapy. Shepherd “helped me tremendously,” John says. 

John, who owned a lock and key service, was carrying a clipboard and some parts for a safe in 1991, when he slipped on gravel, fracturing his back in seven places. Surgery left him in constant pain. Post-surgery pain is a common issue for clinic patients, says Marsha Hanson, MBA-HM, BSN, RN, CRRN, Shepherd’s director of outpatient services. The Spine and Pain Institute also treats clients whose discomfort results from injuries, arthritis, and various other causes. Treatment can include procedure-based and minimally invasive interventions, psychological care, physical therapy, and yoga. “We’re also developing more of a wellness program,” Hanson says. 

John adds his own personal twist to pain treatment. At Shepherd, he is known for his jokes. “Some of them are a little on the smutty side,” he admits. But, he adds, “Laughter is good medicine.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

It began on a rainy night in 1988 when Maura McVann, a senior at St. Piux X Catholic High School in Atlanta, jumped into her car to meet her boyfriend, Kevin Coley, at a football game. She had gone only a short way before her car hydroplaned. Maura, who was not wearing a seatbelt, was hurled into the night. Her back was broken, and her scalp was sliced open. 

As soon as she was stabilized, she was admitted to Shepherd Center. Kevin visited her often, but she felt awkward and broke up with him. She assumed she would have a career-oriented, single life. 

Before being injured, Maura was a cheerleader, swam on a team, ran track, and played varsity basketball and soccer. As she recovered, Shepherd alumnus and supporter Bill Furbish returned to Atlanta from the Paralympics in Seoul with two medals in wheelchair track events. He came by her room and urged her to try wheelchair sports. 

Soon, she was rolling twice a week with the Peachtree Spinners, now the Shepherd Spinners, a wheelchair track team. “I found myself surrounded by people who were living their lives and not letting the wheelchair define who they were,” she recalls. 

Through the Spinners, she learned about the world-class wheelchair sports culture at the University of Illinois and enrolled there for her bachelor’s degree. After earning a master’s in speech pathology, she celebrated with a backpacking trip across nine European countries—alone and using a wheelchair. 

Back in Atlanta and working for the Fulton County School System, she bought a house and settled in. “I did not feel marriage and a family were going to be in store for me,” she says. “I didn’t even want to date.” 

A chance encounter in November 2003 changed everything. She was having dinner with her sister when Kevin Coley, her high school boyfriend, walked into the restaurant. After catching up, he asked for her number.

Three months later, they were engaged and, in May 2005, the girl who was never going to marry rolled down the aisle of the Cathedral of Christ the King surrounded by family and friends. 

If this were a movie, credits would roll with the kiss at the altar, but life goes on. Maura and Kevin honeymooned in Italy and moved there, where Maura gave birth to their first son. 

They returned to the United States to live near Mobile, Alabama, had another son, and relocated to nearby Daphne. They opened We Rock the Spectrum-Daphne, a gym and play space for children with differing abilities. Kevin runs the gym; while Maura practices speech pathology. 

Maura credits Shepherd Center with giving her the confidence to live a rich life. Dealing with her injury, she sometimes experienced “doubt, loneliness, sadness, and uncertainty.” Through it all, she relied on the advice she received at Shepherd Center. 

“I was told at Shepherd to ‘keep showing up.’ Even on my hardest days, I wheeled out the door and kept showing up. My gratitude for Shepherd is boundless.” 

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Every day, while Janice went to therapy in the hospital just across the parking deck, Bill worked remotely at his job in marketing, walked along Atlanta’s Beltline, played an occasional game of golf, and shopped for groceries to cook dinner. He confesses that he never cracked the cover of the cookbook provided as part of a fully furnished kitchen. Instead, Janice instructed him as he tried to cook.

Bill and Janice, who live in Chattanooga, Tennessee, were beneficiaries of Shepherd Center’s housing, provided at no cost to patients and families who live more than 60 miles from the hospital. Until the summer of 2024, stays were limited to 30 days. But the opening of the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences more than doubled the number of units, making it possible for Shepherd to provide housing for the duration of a patient’s time at Shepherd. 

Relatives of Shepherd inpatients occupy some apartments. Day Program patients and their relatives stay in others. Some units have two bedrooms, providing space for multiple family members, including children. 

For Bill and Janice, the journey to Shepherd began in their own yard when Janice asked Bill to cut a tree limb that was hanging over her hydrangeas. Wanting to protect the shrubs, Janice tried to catch the limb, fell over a retaining wall, and landed face-down, unable to move. 

After being treated in an intensive care unit (ICU) in Chattanooga, she transferred to Shepherd as an inpatient in the Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit (CRU), where she stayed from May 9 until July 3, 2024. When she arrived at Shepherd, she says, she could move only her toes and her right arm. “My legs couldn’t do much of anything.” While she was an inpatient, Bill slept in her hospital room. They returned to Chattanooga for two weeks in July and then she came back to Shepherd for more therapy in Shepherd Center’s Spinal Cord Injury Day Program, which provides intensive outpatient therapy. This time, they moved into family housing. 

Janice’s time in the Day Program built on what she had accomplished on CRU. By the time they left for good, Janice’s upper body was still a bit stiff, but she could write, feed herself, and brush her teeth. She was walking so well that a woman she and Bill met for the first time asked which of them was the patient.
Shepherd therapists have “done an absolute miracle with my legs,” Janice says. She doesn’t think her progress would have been possible anywhere but Shepherd, and her time in the Day Program wouldn’t have been possible without the accessible family housing.

After 53 years of marriage, Bill and Janice would not think of being apart during her therapy, but the cost of a hotel room close to Shepherd would have been prohibitive, Bill says. He calls the apartment “a tremendous gift.” 

“I loved the convenience,” Janice says. “What else I loved about it is the simplicity. We had what we needed, but not more than we needed. It was perfect for us.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Her father, an Iowa veterinarian, moved his family to Atlanta when she was 13. She was in high school when she met Atlanta native Harold Shepherd. They married in 1949. 

The same year, Harold, the youngest of six children, opened Shepherd Construction Co. with two brothers. They built thousands of miles of highways and streets, and at one time managed 15 asphalt plants across Georgia and the Carolinas. James and his twin sister, Dana, were born to Alana and Harold in 1951; their brother, Tommy, five years later. 

The telephone call that changed everything came on Oct. 21, 1973, a Sunday morning. James was traveling the world with friends after graduating from the University of Georgia. That morning, his friends called to tell the Shepherds that a wave had slammed James into the ocean floor while he was body surfing in Brazil. He was in critical condition, with a broken neck and pneumonia. 

Harold and Alana rushed to Brazil, where they stayed for five weeks. Once they got James back to Atlanta, he spent three months at Piedmont Hospital. They kept him alive, but no institution in the Southeast could provide the medical care and rehabilitative therapy he needed for recovery. And so, still on a ventilator, his parents took him to Craig Hospital in Denver for five months. As a result of the specialized care James received, his hard work, and his family’s support, James walked out with only a leg brace and a crutch. 

Family discussions about the need to provide treatment closer to home began with, “Why doesn’t somebody . . . ?” but soon turned to, “How can we . . . ?” The family started to raise money and build a team. Harold’s family and business connections were vital to the effort. “Without those connections and his relationships, Shepherd Center might not be here,” Jamie Shepherd says. 

First on the to-do list was finding a medical director. The Shepherds immediately approached David Apple, M.D., a West Virginia native who was raised in Kentucky. While in medical school at the University of Pennsylvania, he had an internship at Grady Hospital in Atlanta. In the region’s foremost trauma center, he saw the results of devastating falls, car crashes, gunshot wounds, pedestrian accidents, and other serious incidents. 

“It was a very hands-on learning experience,” he says. 

Dr. Apple completed his residency in orthopedic surgery. “You could see a problem, diagnose it, and do something about it,” he says. “I was bewitched by instant gratification.” But he also did a fellowship in rehabilitation orthopedics—a not-so-immediate form of treatment. 

In 1973, he was affiliated with Piedmont Hospital but was involved only peripherally with James Shepherd’s care. Nonetheless, he formed a bond with the family. When the Shepherds approached him about joining their effort, a colleague warned him that pursuing the Shepherd Center dream would ruin his career. Dr. Apple was willing to help make that dream a reality. 

With a co-founding physician on board, the next order of business was finding a home for the hospital. Dr. Apple proved his worth by connecting the Shepherds with West Paces Ferry Hospital, a for-profit facility on the north side of Atlanta that was planning to add a nursing home. Officials agreed to lease the space to Shepherd instead. 

On August 19, 1975—667 days after James’s accident—the first incarnation of Shepherd Center, then called Shepherd Spinal Center, was ready to accept patients. A few days later, Tammy King, MSN, ET, CRRN, CCM, started work there while still in nursing school at Georgia State University. 

“You walked in the door and stepped over people on the floor, because they were doing therapy on a mat in the lobby area,” Tammy recalls. “But, even in the earliest days, the culture and the caring, it was always there. So, when I graduated, I naturally stayed on as a nurse.” She stayed for 47 years, becoming the chief nursing officer in 2008 before retiring in 2023, starting many of Shepherd’s hallmark programs, and earning local and national recognition for nursing leadership.

Within two weeks of opening, the hospital had a waiting list. A second physician, Herndon Murray, M.D., came on quickly. Like his friend Dr. Apple, he had held a fellowship for spinal care in California at Rancho Los Amigos National Rehabilitation Center. Although the Shepherd family wanted Dr. Murray on staff, the hospital had no money in the budget to hire him. 

“I got over there and Dr. Apple said, ‘We’ll be glad to have you here as the second doctor, but they’re not going to pay you anything,’” Dr. Murray says. “Sometimes we got paid and sometimes we didn’t, but that was secondary at that point.” 

Dr. Murray has interacted with hundreds of patients, many of them adolescents. He treated Woody Morgan after a diving accident in 2008. “The big thing at Shepherd when I was a patient was you don’t say, ‘I can’t,’” Woody says. “It was always, ‘I can’t yet.’” 

Dr. Murray was there to make the “can’t yet” become “can.” 

In 2023, Woody Morgan, M.D., returned to Shepherd as a physician, one of dozens of former patients and family members of patients so inspired that they wanted careers at Shepherd. 

Also in 2023, Dr. Murray, still at Shepherd after 48 years, was recognized by the Georgia Hospital Association as a “physician hero” for tirelessly giving time, talent, and expertise to improve the hospital and the world.

Tapping Connections

As Shepherd Center got up and running, Harold Shepherd continued to run the family construction company with his brothers, but he began using his vast connections to garner support for the hospital. James, who was president of one of the divisions of the construction company, also served as chairman of the hospital’s board. For Alana, the hospital became a full-time mission. 

Both the demand for, and the extent of, Shepherd’s services grew like kudzu. Dr. Apple himself funded the first recreational therapist in 1979. “I felt that if I could get patients back to being involved in what they enjoyed before, we were going to have better outcomes,” he says. “We went swimming. We went boating. I have a farm up in North Georgia and I had them come up there and spend time outdoors. They could see what was possible.” 

By its fourth anniversary, the hospital employed 60 full-time staff members. As Shepherd’s patient population grew, it leased more space. But there was a philosophical gulf between Shepherd and its landlord, Dr. Apple says. “They were interested in profit. We were interested in service,” he says. “That got to be a problem.” 

Shepherd Center had enough patients to justify building a hospital, but raising the money was not easy, Dr. Apple says. “Who is going to donate to a concept? We relied on friends and board members to back the initial fund.” 

Finding affordable land in a good location was another challenge. Shepherd officials discovered the ideal solution in a 4.5-acre parking lot next to Piedmont Hospital. By serendipity or providence, the land was owned by real estate developer Scott Hudgens, who had leaned on Harold for advice when his granddaughter was injured not long after James’s accident. Hudgens agreed to sell it at a deeply discounted price. 

In October 1980, the founders broke ground at 2020 Peachtree Road; and, on May 13, 1982, a handful of patients boarded a van to move to the new building. One person was transported by ambulance. Greg Delay, the first patient to cross the threshold, popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. 

Just seven years after its humble start, Shepherd Center was in a brand-new 93,000-square-foot building with 40 beds and a therapy gym roughly the size of the entire previous space. Soon afterward, an intensive care unit opened, providing highly sought-after care in weaning people from ventilators and starting the rehabilitation process as soon as possible. About the same time, the hospital was designated one of a handful of Spinal Cord Injury Model Systems by the National Institute on Disability, Independent Living, and Rehabilitation Research, then a program through the U.S. Department of Education. The recognition came with a $246,000 grant. 

Shepherd Center officially added research to its mission in 1985. Expansion of staff and space also allowed the development of some of the programs that differentiate Shepherd, such as peer support, vocational services, and advocacy.

As the reputation of the hospital grew, so did the realization throughout the country of the role it played in filling a gap in the healthcare spectrum. Less than two years after the move, Shepherd was granted approval to build out the shell of the third floor, making space for an additional 40 beds. The expansion made Shepherd Center the country’s largest hospital for the comprehensive treatment of spinal cord injuries in both patient capacity and overall size. 

Five years into the new facility, Shepherd reported that it served patients from 20 states and three countries beyond the United States. Another five years and the hospital doubled in size again with the Billi Marcus Building, named by her husband, the late The Home Depot co-founder Bernie Marcus, in honor of her birthday. Funding for the building was one of many generous donations from the Marcus family and foundation. 

By then, a third generation of Shepherds was on the scene. James’s children, Jamie and Julie, would sometimes come with their father to the hospital. They confess to playing with wheelchairs and even getting caught racing them in the tunnel that connects Shepherd Center to Piedmont Hospital. “There were security cameras,” Jamie says, “and the security guards came and got us.” 

Shepherd Center was no longer only serving people with spinal cord injuries. The Andrew C. Carlos Multiple Sclerosis Institute opened in 1991; a third specialty, acquired brain injury, came on board in 1995. Shepherd was already treating brain injuries in patients who had damage to their spinal cords. Now, the hospital would treat those who had only brain injuries, including strokes. The expansion in services led to a name change, and the Shepherd Spinal Center became Shepherd Center: A Catastrophic Care Hospital. 

In 2008, Shepherd expanded again with the opening of the Jane Woodruff Pavilion and the expanded Billi Marcus Building, providing space for more beds and outpatient and day programs. The Virginia C. Crawford Nutrition Center added a full cafeteria for the first time. 

That same year, Shepherd reinforced its commitment to patients and families when it opened the Irene and George Woodruff Family Residence Center with 84 wheelchair-accessible apartments and community space, which it offered to families at no cost during their loved one's time at Shepherd. This facility and ongoing support from donors helped address three major concerns for families—ensuring their ability to support their loved one emotionally during the rehabilitation process, learning alongside them so they could assist when they return home, and relieving the financial burden of being far from home.

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

The expansion is part of a continuum that began around the Shepherd family kitchen table half a century ago. Just as James’s injury became a catalyst for a world-class rehabilitation center, bumps in the road along the way have turned into opportunities, always with the patients and their families in mind.

“When you think about this type of care, there’s nothing that compares to it,” says Sarah Batts, senior vice president of advancement and executive director of Shepherd Foundation. “It’s an expensive model of care, but everything from integrating mental health to recreational therapy, to housing, to outstanding food, to free parking—all those details add up.” 

Shepherd Center is built on “raw hope and brazen determination,” she says. “I say ‘raw’ hope because when people think of hope, it’s usually the greeting-card kind of hope. But this is hope when things are dark. It’s tough love. It is fierce.”

When Sarah Morrison retired in 2024, Jamie Shepherd was named CEO. He had joined the hospital board in 2012 and started work at Shepherd in 2015 after 12 years in the construction business. “I thought my maximum involvement would be boards and events and that type of thing,” he says. But when Harold learned that Jamie was leaving construction, he had his own plans for his grandson. Within a year, Jamie was at the hospital. 

Julie, whose background is in social work, came on staff in 2010, starting as a case manager after working elsewhere, most recently for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. Part of that job was visiting the three multiple sclerosis centers in Georgia, including Shepherd. “Eventually, it just felt like it was time to try to come here,” she says.

In her 15 years at Shepherd Center, she has found her own way to serve the family legacy. “I think the biggest advantage I have in life is that I grew up here at Shepherd Center,” she says. “I always knew that people with disabilities are just people. You have to treat everybody the way you would want your family to be taken care of. If I can help every staff member understand that, I’ll be super successful.”

Julie’s position as head of founding family relations is new. “We’re lucky to have a lot of the same donors that we had when we were founded,” she says. “My role is reconnecting with the newer generations of those families, those companies.”

Three Generations of Shepherds 

Making her rounds, Alana Shepherd, chairman of the board, witnesses the work of half a century of grit, faith, and passion. She has lost her husband and her three children, including James, but has lived to see the third generation of her family helping to run the hospital she loves. 

Both grandchildren are well-suited to their roles, she says. Julie “is so good with patients and families, and she knows so many people.” 

As for Jamie, with Shepherd Center’s perpetual expansion, his experience in construction, along with master’s degrees in business and public health, makes him the ideal leader for the hospital, even if he weren’t part of the family, Alana says. “Anybody that we would bring in from around the country would not have the passion that he has because of the experiences he had growing up with his dad. He’s a perfect choice.” 

By watching his father channel his resolve to overcome a spinal cord injury into his life’s work on behalf of others, Jamie developed his own determination to continue the tradition of the Shepherd Center and all it means. 

“I’m a numbers guy by education,” he says, “but this place is not about numbers. This place is about improving and healing people’s lives. And so that comes first. We’ll go the extra mile to make a difference in the patients’ lives. And we’ll worry about the money on the back end.” 

Since the first conversations among Alana, Harold, and James, the Shepherd “family” has expanded to include employees—from behind-the-scenes staff to physicians, nurses, and therapists, former and current patients, their families and friends, donors, partners, and researchers. 

Fifty years in, Alana looks to the future with optimism. “The culture of the family goes on,” she says.

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Jordan’s dad was in on a top-secret mission. Just outside the front door of the hospital, a crowd of staff members had gathered for a surprise orchestrated by Jordan’s wily therapy team: The Ramblin’ Reck of Georgia Tech, the school’s mascot vehicle, was waiting to take the young man for a once-in-a-lifetime spin around Midtown Atlanta. Cue the fight song and the happy tears.

“Everybody I had worked with—nurses, physical therapists, occupational therapists, techs—was waiting there, just cheering me on,” Jordan says. “As soon as I stepped outside, I started crying.” 

Tech tradition forbids first-year students from touching the gold-and-white Model A until after their final exams, lest the football team be cursed to lose to in-state rival the University of Georgia Bulldogs. But two catastrophes had intervened that wrecked Jordan’s chances to take part in the car-touching ritual. First, COVID-19 shut down in-person classes, and students were sent home before finals. Then, while practicing his cheerleading stunts in the yard of his family’s home in Brunswick, Georgia, Jordan slipped on wet grass and sustained a severe spinal cord injury. 

He spent more than four months at Shepherd, first as an inpatient in the Adolescent Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Program and then as an outpatient in the Day Program. “There were a lot of tears cried at Shepherd,” Jordan says. “One day, I was with my mom in the Secret Garden, and we were talking about the accident. She said, ‘This is the last time we’re crying about this. It happened. We’re going to move forward and you’re going to get better.’ And that’s what I did.” 

By the time he left Shepherd and tooled around town in the Ramblin’ Reck, Jordan was walking on his own, with the aid of two canes. He returned to Georgia Tech and picked up where he left off, earning a degree in engineering and, in May 2024, walking across the stage to pick up his diploma. Now 24, Jordan is working toward a master’s degree in electrical and computer engineering with a focus in bioengineering and nanotechnology, which he plans to finish this fall. He still has some lingering effects of his injury, such as stiffness in his hands and legs, and a few spots where he can’t feel anything because of permanent nerve damage. “For the most part, I can work through it,” he says. “It’s a minor inconvenience.” 

Only a week after he graduated from Georgia Tech, Jordan returned to Shepherd Center to address the joint meeting of its Board of Directors and the Foundation’s Board of Trustees. “In a way, I’m glad that I got hurt,” he told the rapt audience. “It was rough for a while, but I recovered. I would never have gotten to meet the people who work in this building and the other patients. And I wouldn’t be the man you see standing in front of you today. 

“Shepherd Center will always be a part of me.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

The magazine highlights the Hulse Spinal Cord Injury Research Lab, as well as the new James M. Cox Innovation Institute.

This issue also features these stories, among other patient profiles, anniversary stories, honorariums, and memorials:

• Shepherd & The Peachtree: 40+ Years of Hope & Inclusion
• Going Beyond: Q&A With Exercise Physiologist Corey Gainey
• A Hero's Journey: Jacob Kennedy's Story of Strength, Support, and Starting Again

 Subscribe here for Shepherd Center's Spinal Column magazine print and/or e-newsletter versions.

By 6:30 a.m. on July 4, 2024, the Shepherd Center building had largely emptied onto Peachtree Street to cheer on athletes in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution Peachtree Road Race, especially the Shepherd Center Wheelchair Division. 

“I haven’t seen this much energy at 6:30 in the morning in a long time,” says Craig Elliott, PT, DPT, NCS, who was watching the race for the first time. 

As the sun rose, the first of the elite racers wheeled their way past Shepherd on their way up the infamous “Cardiac Hill,” the steepest part of the course. The cheering section was ready, holding hand-lettered posters with racers’ names and shouting encouragement. 

Behind the elites came other competitors, their arms fiercely turning the wheels on their chairs. “Boy, these guys are really working hard getting up this hill!” exclaims Shepherd patient Michael O’Connor, 66, who was injured in a fall at his home in Turner, Maine. “Holy moly!” 

Shepherd has been directly involved in the 10K event, known as the world’s fastest wheelchair race, since 1982. Wheelchair racers competed alongside runners beginning in 1978, but then were banned in 1980. The late James Shepherd, Shepherd Center’s co-founder, took up the cause, persuading the Atlanta Track Club to give wheelchairs their own start. Shepherd began sponsoring the division soon afterward, promoting equity among elite runners and wheelchair athletes. 

The Shepherd crowd continued its cheering as runners replaced wheelchairs. Many among the 60,000 racers yelled out hellos and thanks to the Shepherd crowd. Some broke their stride to fist-bump or shake hands with the patients. 

“The Peachtree is an event built on traditions,” says Atlanta Track Club CEO Rich Kenah. “These traditions include passing Shepherd Center at the midpoint of the race. We hear time and time again from the runners and walkers of the Peachtree how inspired they are by Shepherd Center’s patients, staff, and volunteers as they pass by on the morning of the Fourth.” 

Along with the verbal boosts, Shepherd spectators tossed out 15,000 peach terry cloth wristbands bearing the hospital logo. The four adolescent boys put their own spin on the activity by shooting the soft rings aloft like slingshots. Runners quick enough to catch them waved them in the air and broke into smiles. 

Shepherd patient Dixie Harris, 69, lives in Atlanta but had seen the race “only on TV.” At Shepherd Center because of a brittle bone fracture, Dixie says she woke up at 4:30 a.m. in anticipation of the race. “I’ve been ready ever since I heard there would be an opportunity to watch it,” she says.

As the race wore on, Dixie moved her wheelchair from the sidewalk to the street and began throwing wristbands to runners. “You’ve got it!” she yelled over and over, and, “Come on!” Several runners stopped to take selfies with her. “We’re representing Shepherd,” Dixie says proudly. 

Brittany Stewart, PT, DPT, knelt beside Dixie and shouted with equal enthusiasm. “It’s so much fun to see Dixie light up and cheer for other people,” she says. “We’re having a blast!” This was Brittany’s third Peachtree Road Race as a Shepherd therapist. “My heart doubles in size every year,” she says. 

Dixie’s husband, Tom, spent the night at Shepherd to be on hand for the race. “We love that Shepherd lets family stay,” Dixie says. “At first you feel kind of alone. To have family be with you is really important.”

Watching Dixie thoroughly enjoy interacting with runners, Tom’s eyes water and his voice catches. “I’m overwhelmingly happy,” he says. 

As the race wound down, the wheelchair competitors made their way inside Shepherd Center for a celebratory brunch. Racers from England and Canada sat side by side at one table, conversing about their experience. Josh Roberts, from Mobile, Alabama, a veteran of 10 Peachtree Road Races, looked around and smiled. “I’ve known a lot of these people for years,” he says. “That’s the best thing about this event—seeing people and making friends over the years.”

“It’s inspiring for the patients to meet these athletes,” says Becky Washburn, MS, wellness and ProMotion manager at Shepherd and coordinator of the wheelchair division. “And it also gives the athletes an opportunity to demonstrate to patients that this is something that can be achieved.”

Emi Perry, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, hopes she inspired Shepherd patients just as they inspired her. “It feels special to see the patients here at Shepherd,” she says, “and help them see, ‘Maybe I can do this one year.’”

Brad Smith, 46, a counselor at DeKalb County’s Lakeside High School, was one of six of Shepherd’s own racers in the 2024 event. He became a patient in June 2010 after a car pulled in front of his bicycle, causing him to crash. He was unable even to watch the road race that first year, but since then he has become a member of the Shepherd racing team and a Peachtree regular. The 2024 Peachtree was his 13th. 

“It’s fun to be here with some of the best racers in the world,” he says. “It’s cool because they’re just normal people.” Cardiac Hill is the “worst and the best part” of the course, he says—the worst because of the grade of the slope, the best because of Shepherd. 

“I’m not going to slack off with Shepherd patients out there cheering me on,” he vows.

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 
 

Shepherd’s version, first held in 2014, really isn’t about the fashion, says organizer Ashley Kim, MPT, ATC. It’s about giving current and former adolescent patients an opportunity to get together, do something outside their comfort zone, and have a few minutes in the spotlight. No matter how nervous they feel beforehand, once the young models burst through the curtain and hear the cheers, they are beaming with self-confidence — something that can be hard to come by for teenagers, even without the trauma of an injury or illness. 

An hour before the 2024 show, professional makeup artists applied just the right blush and eye shadow to each model, and hairstylists masterfully wielded brushes and spray. Local fashion houses and national clothing lines furnished the outfits, the models chose their looks, and they got to keep the donated clothes. As models primped to an upbeat playlist, a line from John Lennon’s “Imagine” rose above the chatter. “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. . . .” 

Volunteer hairstylists Morgan Hughes and Kaitlyn Radler struggled to fulfill 6-foot-6-inch Jace Raymer’s request for a blue mohawk. Despite repeated applications of mousse and spray, Jace’s soft brown curls refused to stand up. Every time the carefully sculpted ridge of hair collapsed, Morgan and Kaitlyn burst into laughter, then shrugged and tried again. But by the time Jace, 17, took his turn down the runway, there was no sign of either blue hair or a mohawk. Jace, an inpatient who was injured in a car crash in his hometown of Cleveland, Tennessee, says he decided, “It didn’t go with my outfit.

Shepherd staff and supporters transformed Shepherd's Livingston Gym into a Manhattan fashion venue for the occasion. Shiny copper and glittery gold streamers cascaded from the doorways and walls in the hallway and art therapy room, where guests at a preshow reception sipped wine and nibbled canapés. The elegant fringe was made from strips of cheap vinyl tablecloths cut and tied by Shepherd patients and staff, says Kelly Singleton, EP, who with Deb Eldred, SLP, has led the decorating effort for the past seven years. Using scissors and tying knots helps patients develop dexterity. “If we can make a decoration therapeutic, we try to, so that patients can be a part of the show,” Kelly says. 

An arch of almost 100 balloons made a festive entryway to the gym. In keeping with organizers' goal to make 2024 “feel groovy,” Kelly says, cutouts of Volkswagen buses, painted by patients and staff, hung on a wall, with photos of models’ faces looking out the windows.

Inside the gym, a long black platform — the rollway — jutted into the crowd. Huge screens displayed collages of the models as they rolled or strolled down the runway.

Each model took two or more turns in front of the crowd as counselor-turned-emcee Cheryl Linden, LPC, described their interests and aspirations. Several models had found new career goals in healthcare and rehabilitation at Shepherd. 

In the background, former Shepherd patient and regular Project Rollway disc jockey Jules Kilpatrick provided musical accompaniment with a strong percussive vibe. Jules himself was an adolescent patient at Shepherd after being thrown from a car in a crash in 2008. Cheers and applause from the audience intensified the energy of the music, which increased in volume when Cheryl was not talking. Without Shepherd, Jules says, he could not be making a living with music. 

“I love Project Rollway,” Jules says. “It’s just great for young patients who have been going through such a hard time to go out on that stage and be celebrated.” 

Dominique Ross, 17, a Shepherd alum from Knoxville, Tennessee, was both a designer and model in the 2024 show. A former Shepherd patient, she was shot 13 times in June 2023 in a case of mistaken identity. Her stepfather was killed in the incident. 

Dominique, who rolled down the runway in a neon green party dress, also designed and sewed the bright red, ankle-length jumpsuit worn by emcee Cheryl. Dominique was “a bundle of nerves” before the show, she says, but by the time she was in front of the crowd, “I was just really excited.” 

Her interest in fashion design began as a child, making clothes for toy bears. Once at Shepherd, Dominique talked about how much she missed sewing and how difficult it would be to operate a sewing machine foot pedal while in a wheelchair. 

Soon, her team presented her with a machine that she could work, courtesy of Andee’s Army, a foundation that seeks to fill gaps in care for children with brain and spinal cord injuries. The foundation honors Andee Poulos, who was treated at Shepherd at 14 after a tangle of blood vessels burst in her brain. Andee’s Army supports Project Rollway and other special Shepherd programs for adolescents. 

After recognizing Andee’s Army officials and other donors and calling Shepherd employees onto the runway to take bows for their efforts, Cheryl spoke to the parents in the audience about the people who made the evening possible. “This show doesn’t go on because it has to,” she says. “It goes on because they love your kids.” 

Dominique, for one, feels the love. “I am so grateful that there is a place where people are so kind and diligent and where they love what they do,” she says. “I think that’s something really special.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Joshua Ponder seemed an unlikely guest of honor in such a rosy setting, but this was a surprise baby shower to celebrate the upcoming arrival of Ava Lee Ponder, Josh’s daughter. He had expected to be at home in Weaverville, North Carolina, to welcome Ava in person, but a dive into a shallow pool caused an injury that brought him to Shepherd. “We don’t want him to miss out just because he’s here,” says Gloria Sipakati, OT, OTR/L. 

That is the typical attitude of Shepherd staff members as they help mark the milestones in their patients’ lives. Therapy teams have thrown birthday parties, graduation ceremonies, engagement celebrations, and weddings — along with baby showers. 

“It shows we care about them as a person and about their whole family,” says Mackenzie Dolecheck, CRT. “We’re trying to give them some sense of normalcy.” 

The baby shower for Josh was the second for a patient in the same hospital room within a year. “We have experience in baby showers,” says Sarah Roberts, PT, DPT, NCS. Josh seemed genuinely moved when he rolled into a dark room and heard a chorus of “Surprise!” Someone asked Josh — who described himself as “speechless” at the affair — if he wanted a drink and, when he said yes, they handed him a baby bottle filled with pink lemonade. He especially seemed to enjoy the strawberry cupcakes. 

The guest list for his shower consisted of Cam Beckett and Kinley Ogbonnaya, the other two men who shared Josh’s therapy team. All the guests who were patients arrived using wheelchairs, and all had some challenges using their arms and hands. But that didn’t stop the lively competition in the diaper-the-doll contest as everyone raced to undress and re-clothe their “babies.” When Josh confessed that he had never changed a diaper, a shout went up, “Today’s the day!” Cam, using his teeth to pull the tape on the disposable diaper, appeared to have won until the therapists inspected the result and saw a bit too much of the baby’s backside. The threat of disqualification was greeted with hoots of laughter. 

In a diaper-toss challenge, guests tried to score points by throwing a green rubber ball into pockets of open diapers stuck to a board. Recreation therapist Mackenzie constructed the setup the night before. Although the participants struggled to control the trajectory of the ball, all seemed to have a good time. 

Josh’s father, Frank Ponder, watched the action from the doorway. “It’s highly unusual for a hospital to be this way,” he says. “Josh had an older sister born with spina bifida who died five years ago, and we spent a lot of time in hospitals. I’ve never witnessed a place like this.” 

The hospital may be full of patients, Frank says, but “when the therapists are with Josh, they make him feel like he’s the only patient here.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

All three eventually found their way to Shepherd Center’s SHARE Military Initiative, a comprehensive rehabilitation program for veterans, service members, and first responders who have experienced traumatic brain injury (TBI) and mental health concerns. 

Shepherd Center launched SHARE in 2007 with funding from the Marcus Foundation. It doubled in capacity and moved to 80 Peachtree Park Drive in 2017 and, in 2019, became a founding member of the Avalon Action Alliance, a network of programs that provides care to veterans and first responders. 

Tim Doherty, who was deployed with the Michigan Army National Guard, was in charge of medical evacuation at a base in Afghanistan in 2015 when it came under attack, killing several soldiers. “With the trauma of the attack and not being able to save everyone, I came home loaded with a lot of anger,” he says. “I didn’t know that wasn’t normal.” 

A friend who had been through SHARE recommended that Tim go to Shepherd, where he was diagnosed with a mild TBI and PTSD. He became SHARE’s first virtual patient during the COVID-19 pandemic. As the pandemic waned, some appointments were in person. 

“SHARE helped me realize that I didn’t need to be angry or under the influence of alcohol all the time,” Tim says. “I learned different coping mechanisms.” Early in his in-person treatment, a Shepherd recreational therapist asked him what he would like to do. “I always wanted to play bocce ball,” he told her. They played, he says, “and that was the first time I had smiled naturally in a long time.” 

A retired high school assistant principal, Tim has a second vocation as a beekeeper. He says interaction with the bees is therapeutic, not just because of the focus required to handle them, but because their buzzing actually helps reset the brain. In fact, bee therapy is widely used in some other countries, including Lithuania and Slovenia. “It’s really a beautiful thing,” Tim says.

Through a nonprofit organization he founded called Doc’s Healing Hives, Tim, who lives in Morganton, Georgia, has equipped and trained more than 150 veterans for beekeeping. “SHARE was my beacon of hope, my beacon of joy,” Tim says. “And now that they have helped me see the light, I’m able to be a beacon to other people.” 

Tamara Kosoris wasn’t thinking of becoming a patient at Shepherd Center when she invited Sgt. Alexandra “Alex” Carvalho, SHARE outreach coordinator and Marine reservist, to speak to her veterans’ group, Irreverent Warriors. As the two talked, though, Alex realized that Tamara herself could benefit from SHARE.

Tamara, who joined the Marine Corps in 1998 at age 18, sustained a concussion during a sexual assault while in the service. Although she left the Marines in 2004, she didn’t connect with SHARE until 20 years later, when she met Alex. Tamara had sought help for her problems from other sources, but nothing seemed to work — until she spent eight weeks in the SHARE program. She says Shepherd was different for three reasons: First, treatment encompasses the whole person and is tailored to the individual. Second, transition counselors help patients return to their lives after treatment. And third, SHARE clients share the experience with people who understand what service in the military or as a first responder is like. 

Tamara, who lives in Marietta, Georgia, and works for her family brewery, is a leader in Irreverent Warriors, an organization that sponsors events and promotes humor to foster friendships among veterans with the hope of preventing suicides. 

“One of the things that drew me to Irreverent Warriors was the camaraderie,” Tamara says. “So being able to be at SHARE with other veterans—and not just other veterans, but other veterans who were going through the same things that I am — is really nice. I would highly recommend it. In fact, I have — to many people! We don’t have to have deep conversations, because we all kind of understand what each other is dealing with.” 

Chase Sanger calls SHARE “life changing.” He was first referred to the program in 2016, three years after being injured in a parachute jump while he was in the U.S. Army’s 82nd Airborne Division. His mother investigated the possibility of treatment at Shepherd and he was evaluated, but chose not to enter at the time. “I didn’t think I deserved to be there,” he says. He tried to get on with his life as if nothing was wrong but, by late 2019, “I had come to a point where I couldn’t really do that anymore,” he says. A tremor in his left foot had gradually expanded into stiffness, balance issues, foot drop, and additional tremors on both sides of his body. 

The Army and civilian neurologists he saw simply added new prescriptions whenever a new issue arose, he says. Frustrated, he thought of Shepherd Center, and was once again accepted. This time he was ready. He was diagnosed with primary progressive multiple sclerosis, which is more likely to develop in people who have had brain injuries. He entered SHARE in January 2020. Infusions seemed to halt the physical progression of his multiple sclerosis. And, he says, SHARE helped him deal with the emotional and mental aspects, such as anxiety and depression.

Chase, who lives in Ellijay, Georgia, and works for U.S. Representative Barry Loudermilk, “can’t say enough great things” about Shepherd and SHARE, he says. “They have made a huge improvement in my quality of life.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

For 20 years, David conducted Shepherd Center’s monthly tours of Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport and Delta aircraft there. He showed participants what to expect, from ticketing to boarding, and let them practice transferring from wheelchairs to airplane seats so they would have the confidence to travel independently. David, now retired, also helped Matt Edens, CTRS, Shepherd Center’s sports teams coordinator, manage Shepherd’s adaptive sports teams’ travel to competitions in other cities. 

“It very quickly became apparent to me that this was a great investment of my time, and that the things we were doing at the airport were meaningful and made a difference,” David says. He also immediately recognized that Shepherd Center’s commitment to the partnership with Delta was part of a culture that emphasizes giving every patient the best possible life post-treatment. “From the very beginning, walking onto the Shepherd campus, I knew this was a very, very special place,” he says.

His own journey to Shepherd as a patient began in November 2023, with tingling in his fingers and feet. That sensation is a common first sign of Guillain-Barre syndrome, a rare disorder in which the immune system attacks the nerves. Soon, he was unable to move his legs, could not speak, and was put on a ventilator to breathe. When he entered Shepherd Center, “I was in pretty rough shape,” he says. His wife, Bonnie, says she “cried all day—because I was so happy that he was there.” 

After a week of rehabilitation, David moved from intensive care to the Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit. On the day he transferred, Alana Shepherd visited him and told him she expected him to participate in the first possible Delta airport outing—this time from Shepherd’s perspective. He did just that on February 21, 2024. David says his time at Shepherd was “the absolute best and the worst thing. It was the worst thing because of what I put my family through. And it was the best thing because I got to see Shepherd Center from the other side. It helps put your values in order. It helps you prioritize what’s important and what’s inconsequential.”

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. You can explore the full eBook or purchase a hardcover copy here. 

Nonagenarian Alana Shepherd, chairman of the board and 50-year volunteer, is in the middle of it all. She frequently uses a scooter, but this morning she is leaning only slightly on her sparkly cane as she makes her way to her office. Patients and staff greet her almost reverentially. If she is regarded as royalty, there’s a reason: The hospital has been her domain since 1975, when it consisted of six beds in a rented space in a now-defunct Atlanta hospital. To emphasize her significance, the staff insisted one Halloween that she dress up as Queen Elizabeth II, complete with toy Corgi. With trademark humor, Alana consented. 

Alana is here today, as she is almost every day, to tend to hospital business and make her rounds, buoying up patients and their families. She and her late husband, Harold, late son, James, and founding medical director David Apple, M.D., are responsible for what supporters call the “culture” of Shepherd Center—a commitment to infusing extraordinary care and compassion into every interaction, every treatment, and every outcome, so that patients and families can begin again. 

The founders considered every aspect of the ambience. Paintings on the walls of the long hallways give patients and their families something to look at, Alana says. Employees across all disciplines are expected to make eye contact and smile. And what other hospital includes “the appropriate use of humor” as a criterion on staff evaluations? 

Each feature of Shepherd Center culture is rooted in the Shepherd family’s own experience, the life change that began when Alana and Harold got what she describes as the “call from hell.” Son James, on a post-college graduation trip to Brazil, had been paralyzed in a bodysurfing accident. 

As Alana switches from her cane to her red scooter for her rounds, she is determined to give patients and their families the reassurance her family so desperately needed when James was injured. After all these years, she is still a mother on a mission.

A Day in the Life

Alana travels from floor to floor, smoothly backing into elevators, maneuvering between pieces of therapy equipment, and, all along the way, greeting staff, patients, and family members by name. She has already met the newest arrival, a woman named Tiffany who came in by ambulance a couple of hours earlier. 

Alana’s first visit of the day is Christopher Peixoto, an honor student and soccer player at Cobb County’s Lassiter High School, who was severely injured in a car crash. Alana greets him warmly, as if she has known him since his childhood. 

“Hi, Chris,” she says. “Remember yesterday I came to see you? Oh, look at you! Your neck’s even moving better today. I’m so pleased!” Because he can’t yet speak, she asks him to raise his thumb to answer “yes” to her questions. “Did you like your therapist today?” A thumb moves up slightly off the arm of his wheelchair. 

“We’ve had a very good morning,” his mother, Flavia Rocha, tells Alana. “It’s amazing how he’s changed. I’m so grateful to be here. I can feel the peace and true love!” As Alana starts to leave, Flavia wants to take a picture with her. 

Riding through a therapy gym, Alana stops to say to a patient, “You got your hair cut. It looks good!” 

“How far did you walk?” she asks another. 

And to yet another, “How long is your brace on? A neck brace in hot weather is no fun.” 

She stops for a longer conversation with a man who is about to undergo electrical stimulation to help him move his hand muscles. He is Svetolik Djurkovic, M.D., a physician at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Washington, DC, who is originally from Slovenia. She asks whether he misses his home country. “Right now, I am the happiest person in the world that I’m here,” he replies. As his therapist starts the stimulation, Alana jokes that it will make his hair curly. “I always wanted curly hair,” Dr. Djurkovic replies, going along with the gag. 

Heading back to her office, Alana passes Shepherd’s Wheelchair Seating & Mobility Clinic, where Sondra Anthony is trying out equipment. Sondra is not a hospital patient, but her arthritis is becoming more debilitating, and she has come to see which wheelchair or scooter will best suit her needs.

Alana talks to her about cushions and back support and urges her to put the word out about the clinic, which is open to the public. 

“Ma’am, I’m sort of new to this Shepherd Center,” Sondra says. “Are you the founder?” 

“One of them,” Alana says. 

“And you come in every day?” 

“Every day. But I’m the chairman of the board, so I have to know what’s going on.”

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. 

Since that inspirational lunch, the entire Alias family has supported Shepherd not only financially, but also by serving on boards, advisory panels, and steering committees, as well as volunteering their time for fundraising events. In 2006, Fred established the “Best Employee Attitude Award,” with substantial cash prizes given to the most outstanding Shepherd staff members each year. In 2015, Fred and his two sons, Shaler and Andrew, made substantial contributions toward the renovation of the hospital’s chapel.

The family’s dedication is most obvious, though, in the Alias Family Sports Teams program, which enables people with physical disabilities in metro Atlanta to compete locally, regionally, nationally, and even internationally. More than 20 athletes from Shepherd teams have represented the U.S. in the Paralympic Games, and several have won medals. Currently, more than 100 athletes—ranging in age from 15 to 71—play on Shepherd’s 10 teams: the Stealers (basketball), the Strikers (power soccer), the Spinners (track), the Smash (quad rugby), the Sharks (swimming), the Sluggers (softball), the Skiers (waterskiing), the Swords (fencing), the Cyclers (hand-cycling), and the Servers (tennis). 

Matt Edens, CTRS, has been coordinator of the sports teams since 2005. “Because of the Alias family, we’re able to buy new equipment and travel more than we’ve ever done,” Matt says. “We’re able to provide these athletes with competitiveness, health, and wellness. But it’s not just about the sports. Our patients can come down to the gym every night to watch teams practice. They get to see there is life after injury. Several of our athletes were injured decades ago, and they’re able to say, ‘I’ve been in your shoes.’ A lot of times, that is an ‘aha’ moment for patients who have just begun recovery.” 

Expanding the scope and quality of the sports team program has become part of the Alias family legacy. After 30 years, Fred still gets emotional when he talks about Shepherd Center. “I have never walked in that building and left when I wasn’t more up than when I went in,” he says. “It’s just the greatest thing I’ve ever been involved in.” Now, his oldest son, Shaler, serves on Shepherd’s Board of Directors, and Andrew is chairman of the Board of Trustees. 

“Growing up, I watched from afar as my dad served alongside the Shepherd family and other amazing board members to grow this place from an idea to a world-class facility,” Shaler says. “Then, after college, I had two close friends who were patients at Shepherd after complete spinal cord injuries. I watched as their lives were turned upside down by traumatic injuries, and then I witnessed firsthand as Shepherd slowly put the pieces back together and taught them that they could not only live a normal life, but an exceptional one.” 

As Shaler and Andrew established their own careers—creating a financial payment-processing firm called Repay in 2006—they began deepening their long-term involvement in Shepherd’s mission. “We are a giving family,” Andrew says. “We grew up being taught to give. But the people at Shepherd fostered my relationship with them by playing the long game.” As avid outdoorsmen, both Alias brothers connected personally with the direct impact their support could have on athletes. “I loved James Shepherd’s saying that Shepherd Center is the bridge between ‘I can’t’ and ‘I can,’” Shaler says. “One of the most powerful ways that I have seen patients come to fully embrace the ‘I can’ attitude is through the sports teams.“

Overcoming adversity takes a tremendous effort from the patients,” Shaler adds. “Supporting those patients takes a tremendous effort from the physicians, nurses, therapists, researchers, and staff at Shepherd Center. And supporting those staff members takes a tremendous effort from the community. Our family is committed to being a part of our community and supporting Shepherd Center for as long as it takes.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

In the heart of healing, hope’s embrace,

Shepherd’s mission finds its place.

To mend the broken, both strong and weak,

With courage and dignity, that they seek.

Through trials of injury, and disease’s test,

They guide their way to a future blessed.

They foster dreams that will take them far.

With independence as their guiding star,

In every struggle, and every fight,

They champion inclusion, day and night.

They advocate for a world that’s safe and sound,

Where every soul finds solid ground.

Rebuilding lives with strength anew,

A tapestry of resilience woven through.

With hope as the compass, that leads the way,

For a brighter tomorrow, come what may.

To give quality care with precision

Will always be My Shepherd Mission.

Written by Rickie Bauer

This poem 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. 

Rickie Bauer works in Shepherd Center’s Acquired Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program. He has written poetry since childhood, though this is his first published work.

Julianna was treated for a concussion and cuts and released, and Arlene was hospitalized for a few weeks with a concussion as well as facial and pelvic fractures. But Phyllicia was airlifted to Atlanta Medical Center, where she remained in a minimally conscious state—on a ventilator—for 28 days. 

The greatest survival stories start in such moments. In July 2020, as COVID-19 was raging, Phyllicia transferred to Shepherd Center. The hospital was in lockdown mode, with strict protocols in place to protect their highly vulnerable population and staff. 

For two months, Phyllicia’s father, Chris Thomas, slept on a cot in her room. But in those 60 days, he got the best gift any father could hope for—his daughter began a remarkable recovery. When she first began to emerge, she motioned for her father’s cellphone. On it, she typed a message: “Are Mommy and Julianna OK? And when do law school classes start?” 

Almost every night, Phyllicia and Chris spent time by the koi pond in Shepherd’s Anna and Hays Mershon Secret Garden. On Saturdays, Arlene and Julianna would come to the other side of the garden gate to visit—COVID-style. “Shepherd Center was busy healing my body and my mind,” Phyllicia says, “and having my father and family there really healed my spirit and my heart.” 

Phyllicia was an inpatient at Shepherd until September 2, 2020, followed by nine months of daily outpatient therapy at Shepherd Pathways, where she relearned how to swallow, how to speak, how to walk, how to write. Gradually, her short-term memory started coming back, and she got stronger every day. “I don’t think I would have improved as much as I did if my dad hadn’t been with me,” Phyllicia says. “When I started emerging, he was there to remind me who I was before the car crash and also to remind me of the goals that I still wanted to reach.”

Only one year later—in the fall of 2021—Phyllicia was back at law school. Kristian Nitsch, Ph.D., psychology supervisor at Shepherd Pathways, was instrumental in facilitating her return to classes, arranging classroom and testing accommodations as needed.

Fast-forward two years, and Phyllicia walks across the stage to receive her environmental law degree. She keeps in touch via email with about 20 Shepherd doctors, nurses, therapists, and technicians, all of whom played crucial roles in her recovery and now celebrate every achievement with her.

Even though some of the staff members’ names are fuzzy, Phyllicia remembers every act of kindness, from the nurse who gave her teal socks and coloring books when she was feeling down, to another who surprised her by decorating her hospital room with pictures of her favorite things and spelling her name in her favorite color—purple—above her bed.

Throughout her recovery, from the darkest days to the brightest, everyone at Shepherd was focused and positive. “They never said anything was impossible,” Phyllicia says.

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

Vision Clinic Coordinator Helen Burke, OT, works alongside Janna Iyer, FCOVD, to conduct weekly consultations with patients with brain injuries. “For a lot of our brain injury or stroke patients, their awareness of where their ‘middle’ is can be off,” Helen says. “Instead of sitting or standing up straight, they feel like their middle is back here,” she says, tilting dramatically in her chair. This “pusher syndrome” presents serious issues with balance and increases risk of falls. 

The Vision Clinic is working with Kemtai, an artificial intelligence platform, to develop a more precise tool for assessing patients’ posture and then evaluating in real time their improvement after wearing the prism glasses. The standalone web application can be used on a smartphone and doesn’t require any bulky or expensive equipment. Ultimately, Kemtai and Shepherd aim to co-develop rehabilitation exercises, using this innovative technology to improve patients’ quality of life. 

Katherine Thurber’s stroke in August 2024 affected the right side of her body, so her visual center was one foot to the right and back of where it should be. After wearing the prism eyeglasses, she began to see improvement immediately. “From Day One, they started working,” Katherine says. “I wore them religiously for three or four weeks. And when I left Shepherd, the glasses had done what they were supposed to do. You have to trick the brain to be right again.”

After six weeks in therapy at Shepherd, Katherine returned home to Mobile with her daughter, Mary Esther Elliott, who has seen firsthand the improvements in her mother’s posture and balance. Mary Esther recalls going to visit her mother at Shepherd Center on Labor Day weekend but finding that Katherine was on an outing to a nearby Chick-fil-A. Mary Esther hurried to the restaurant, where she found Katherine sitting in a booth enjoying her lunch. “She turned to me, wearing the prism glasses, and it was really emotional,” Mary Esther says. “That was the first time I had seen her sitting in anything but a wheelchair in a month, and the glasses helped her get there.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

McDonald’s kiosk design, developed in collaboration with Shepherd to make ordering easier for people who use wheelchairs and scooters, also makes the touch-screen menu reachable for little princesses and princes. Sasha Elizabeth’s mother, Sharon, says she noticed the accessibility prompt on the kiosk immediately. “And that’s a good thing,” she says. 

The McDonald’s connection is just one of many relationships between Shepherd Center’s Accessibility User Research Collective (AURC) and numerous name-brand corporations, including Samsung, Microsoft, Nike, Intel, LinkedIn, Roku, and the Tinder dating app. 

The AURC connects companies with consumers who live with various disabilities and who can provide feedback about products and services. The network of more than 1,500 consumers is not restricted to people who have conditions specific to Shepherd Center’s patient population. It also includes individuals with low vision, hearing loss, attention deficit disorder, autism, dyslexia, and other conditions. Their observations lead to improvements in accessibility that can benefit everyone.

The AURC research team works with companies to design studies, recruit participants, and collect and analyze results. When Microsoft wanted to develop a new process for providing testing accommodations, for instance, it turned to the AURC. Each time the company wanted to update the material, the AURC was there to advise. 

“Shepherd’s imprimatur provides confidence to research participants and AURC corporate partners that studies will be conducted with rigor and professionalism,” says AURC director John Morris, Ph.D., FACRM. 

The AURC was formally established in 2017, building on years of work providing research services to corporate partners. This work grew out of federally funded grants to support development of new assistive technology under the leadership of Mike Jones, founding director of Shepherd’s Virginia C. Crawford Research Institute and retired vice president of research and technology of Shepherd Center. 

Although much of the AURC’s work is proprietary and confidential, some businesses promote their Shepherd connection. Samsung, for instance, has regularly featured its partnership with the AURC and Shepherd Center at industry conferences and the company’s own events.

“The AURC provides an opportunity for us to help mainstream companies build better products,” says Ben Lippincott, project manager and consumer engagement strategist.

“We’ve done work for some big, big companies whose products touch the lives of literally tens of millions, even hundreds of millions of people,” says Delaney Cowart, AURC program manager. Sasha Elizabeth, leaving McDonald’s with drink in one hand and her mother’s hand in the other, is one of them.

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. 

He doesn’t remember the accident — or the two months leading up to it and the five or six months after it. His first memory is of physical therapy at Shepherd Center. 

“I knew what I had to do to get my life back,” Clark says now, a decade later. “I had this dream of waking up in my frat house, walking across campus, hanging out with my buddies—just having my college life back. This fueled an unbelievable fire inside me. I always knew I was going to make it back,” he says. “I never let myself begin to think otherwise.” 

In 2020, Clark at last had his chance to make it back—he walked across the stage and received his diploma from Georgia Tech. “It was pretty awesome,” he says. “I felt like I was a superstar.” 

“He is a miracle,” says his mother, Mariellen Jacobs. Any proud mother might say that, but in fact, Clark’s survival story has prompted changes that make every college student in Georgia safer. “Clark’s accident happened so quickly, and it was something I had never thought about—the danger of falling out of elevated beds,” Mariellen says. “But I thought, ‘Surely, this is not the only time this has ever happened.’” 

And so, as Clark began his recovery, Mariellen started gathering facts and reaching out to other parents, eventually forming a nonprofit organization called Rail Against the Danger. The group’s rallying cry: “Do you think you’re too old for a safety rail? Don’t fall for that.”  

Mariellen’s background in graphic design and marketing helped her channel her anguish into activism, as Rail Against the Danger began advocating with the University System of Georgia to install safety rails on all loft and bunk beds in campus housing. After a few years of lobbying and many iterations, the new rule was put in place in the fall of 2019. 

Rail Against the Danger attracted the attention of Nanette Hausman, mother of a college student who died after a tragic skateboarding accident in Colorado. Along with several other parents who had lost their children to preventable accidents on campuses across the country, Mariellen and Nanette, who has since passed away, created the College Safety Coalition, which works on legislation to hold schools more accountable and transparent about campus safety. 

“Alana Shepherd was a key element in giving me the courage and the strength to really pursue Rail Against the Danger,” says Mariellen, who since 2019 has worked in Shepherd Center’s Peer Support Program. “She told me, ‘Knock down every door and don’t take “no” for an answer.’ . . . Just look at what Alana has done. She helped start Shepherd Center and now it’s two gigantic new buildings and 50 years of advocacy. You start somewhere, and you just keep going. Anything is possible if you just keep going.” 

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

Lanza, a sweet-faced Golden Retriever-Labrador mix, jumps gently onto the therapy mat and nuzzles Gunnar Burns, a 16-year-old with a spinal cord injury from Fredericksburg, Virginia. Using a specially adapted brush with a Velcro handle, Gunnar begins stroking the dog’s back.

In Shepherd’s donor-funded Facility Dog Program, even snuggles have a rehabilitative purpose. Facility dogs take part in physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and recreational therapy, in addition to providing emotional support and simply bringing joy.

“When you show up with a dog, you get the biggest smile,” says Julie Shepherd, CCM, LMSW, CLCP. “Sometimes you get tears. Even if patients can’t move or feel anything, they get so excited.”

Many patients at Shepherd are motivated to work on skills so they can have a dog when they return home, which means that therapy activities often include leash management—from a power chair, manual chair, walker, or standing—verbalizing commands, grooming, bathing, and picking up poop.

Julie is the daughter and granddaughter of Shepherd Center’s co-founders. She has worked at the center for 15 years, beginning as a case manager. Now she is director of Shepherd’s Founding Family Relations initiative and leads the Facility Dog Program, a labor of love in a proud family legacy.

Therapy dogs are a common sight in the hallways of Shepherd.

“In ICU, we do a lot of comfort visits — for patients and staff,” Julie says. “I think ICU is one of the hardest jobs here. If I know the staff has been having an especially difficult day, Lanza and I will just go hang out there and check on them. And then in the therapy room, the dogs can help with any goals. A patient who needs to work on balance can sit on the edge of the mat and throw toys for the dog to retrieve. Or grooming the dog can help strengthen arms.”

Shepherd’s facility dogs arrive fully trained from Canine Companions®, a nationally accredited nonprofit organization that matches service dogs with individuals with disabilities and professionals in healthcare settings. In the latter case, each dog is assigned to a Shepherd employee, who also goes through extensive training and commits to keeping the dog at their home. 

The emotional benefits of the Facility Dog Program are obvious, as a dozen adolescents gravitate toward the therapy mat where Gunnar is grooming Lanza. One by one, they speak to the dog, pat him on the head, and tell him what a good boy he is.

Gunnar sustained a spinal cord injury in a high school lacrosse game in May 2024. Julie and Lanza visited him during his first week at Shepherd Center, when he was still in the intensive care unit. Gunnar had just lost his dog, Sunny, a few months earlier. “He looked exactly like Lanza,” Gunnar recalls. Gunnar isn’t sure yet whether he wants a new dog when he returns home. But today, he is finding comfort and motivation in the uncomplicated act of brushing a dog. When Julie asks if he needs a break, he shakes his head and says quietly, “My arms won’t ever get tired from doing this.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

“It’s an opportunity to get together and have fun,” says Kyla Mitchell, SPHR, SHRM-SCP, director of human resources and member of Shepherd’s 18-member People Committee, which plans employee events and serves as a voice for the staff. “Employees love bragging rights,” she says, “and humor is one of Shepherd’s values.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

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. 

Indeed, says CEO Jamie Shepherd, “this place is built on volunteerism,” beginning with co-founder Alana Shepherd, who has never taken a salary but still comes in almost every day. Shepherd Center has about 100 volunteers who commit to regular shifts once or twice a week. In addition to 6:45 a.m. breakfast-feeding duties, volunteers may deliver patient mail, serve as gym assistants, or visit with families of new patients to make sure they know all the resources that are available to them. Sometimes they sit at the welcome desk—the first of many smiling faces that a visitor sees when they walk into Shepherd. 

Volunteers range in age from 15 to 80-something. Some of the younger volunteers are exploring potential careers in physical therapy or occupational therapy. But many of the most dedicated volunteers are former patients or family members who simply want to give back to the place that meant so much to them. 

“One volunteer was a spinal cord program patient 20 years ago,” Alex says. “She’s so grateful for the care she received, she will say, ‘Tell me what you need me to do.’ And she comes and does it, even on days when she’s dealing with some pain from her injury.” 

Zach Wilson, 82, started volunteering for “the breakfast club” more than 12 years ago, and now helps train all the new recruits, in addition to handling his own shift as a feeder every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. “One of the things I stress in training is that this may be the only non-medical, social interaction the patient has in the course of the day,” Zach says. Between all the therapy sessions, physical exams, and doctor visits, the meals offer a time for pure conversation. “I’m not doing this for the patients; I’m doing this for me,” Zach says. “I get so much more out of it than I give.” 

Like Zach, who worked for years at a giant financial advisory firm, many volunteers are retired businesspeople who are looking for meaningful ways to spend their newfound free time. But others, like Zach’s son Zachary, feed patients before their workday begins. 

Hawda Shukralla is a 21-year-old student at Georgia State University, where she is studying biology in hopes of becoming a medical doctor specializing in rehabilitation of children with spinal cord injuries. She is motivated by her own T-9 spinal cord injury, which she sustained in late 2019—on her 16th birthday— stemming from transverse myelitis, a rare autoimmune disease. She uses a manual wheelchair for mobility. 

Every Monday and Tuesday, she volunteers in Shepherd Center’s Peer Support Program, providing a basic introduction to new patients. And every Wednesday morning, she helps with breakfast duties. “Just having a conversation and hopefully making someone smile, I think that’s great,” Hawda says. “I feel like I get something out of it, too.” 

Hawda did her inpatient and outpatient rehabilitation at Children’s Hospital of Atlanta but found herself drawn to Shepherd Center after feeling the effects of COVID isolation. “I felt very alone,” she says. “I signed up for the ProMotion gym, and there I heard about volunteer orientation. I thought, ‘I would like to be here as much as I can, so I might as well volunteer!’” 

At Shepherd, Hawda found her community and her calling. “The more you try, the easier it will get,” she tells new patients. “Even now, I’m not the best at everything, but I’m better at it than the first day I started. And if I start something new tomorrow, I’m going to struggle. But I’m thinking about the future.”

Written by Teresa Weaver

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. 

 In this celebratory issue, we look back at special moments over the last 50 years, while looking ahead to a promising future. Stories in this issue celebrate hardworking staff, resilient patients, and generous donors who help make Shepherd’s work possible.

 The magazine also features these stories, among other patient profiles, anniversary stories, honorariums, and memorials:

Secrets of the Secret Garden
Treasure Trove of Memories
So Many Ways to Give

 Subscribe here for Shepherd Center's Spinal Column magazine print and/or e-newsletter versions.

That’s the year Shepherd Center’s 50th anniversary time capsule, scheduled to be buried this August, the month of Shepherd’s founding, will be opened again. And there’s a lot of work going into making sure the time capsule tells the Shepherd story and stands the test of time. 

To determine what’s going in the time capsule, Mays and Harris have been digging through Shepherd’s archives, gathering items like old blueprints, Spinal Column magazines, and photographs. They’re also preparing new materials, like quotes from staff and video interviews with hospital co-founders Alana Shepherd and David Apple, M.D. 

“[Working on the time capsule] grabbed my attention because I like that kind of thing,” says Mays, the office manager for Shepherd’s marketing team. “I like looking back at older items, and I thought it would be good to try to save some memories or create some memories to play back later.” 

In addition to figuring out what to include in the time capsule, Mays and Harris are also making sure items in the capsule are preserved for the next 50 years and accessible to Shepherd’s next generation. “We have these video messages that we could put on a jump drive, but in 50 years, will people still be using the same technology? We’re thinking about how people in the future will use the things we include,” Harris says. 

Shepherd Center’s 50th anniversary time capsule will be buried in the Home Depot Courtyard outside the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation during anniversary week celebrations in August. To stay up to date on all of Shepherd Center’s anniversary celebrations, follow us on Facebook at facebook.com/shepherdcenter. 

By Erin Kenney

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

Seeing the level of care Sally Nunnally received at Shepherd Center made a big impact on Virginia’s parents, Gene and Libby Pearce. They became lifelong donors and volunteers at the hospital, with Gene serving two terms on the Foundation Board and Libby being an active member of Women Shaping Shepherd, a group of women who give annually and vote on patient programs to support through their donations. Libby also has a passion for helping people with disabilities get the assistive technology they need to thrive, and together, the couple has a fund supporting the hospital’s facility dog program. 

In addition to their own involvement, Gene and Libby have also shared their love of Shepherd with their three daughters: Elizabeth, Virginia, and Anne. 

After her college graduation, Elizabeth Pearce joined Shepherd Center’s Junior Committee, volunteering with Derby Day. As her career progressed, she shared her business and nonprofit expertise by serving on Shepherd’s Advisory Board, Foundation Board, and, most recently, the Long-Term Planning Committee. She was also a founding member of Women Shaping Shepherd. 

In addition to her board service, Elizabeth hopes to become a volunteer breakfast feeder after retirement. She’s also part of the J. Harold Shepherd Bridge Builders Society, a legacy giving society, ensuring her impact will continue even after she’s gone. “I love the idea that when I die — because we’re all going to — part of what I had in my life will be given to Shepherd Center,” Elizabeth says. “The possibilities are so great — if it’s a troubled time, maybe it fills a hole in the budget, or if it’s not, maybe [the hospital] could invest in something new that it couldn’t afford before.” 

Elizabeth’s sister, Virginia, also got involved with Shepherd through events like Derby Day, Summer in the City, and The Legendary Party. But after becoming an empty nester, she began volunteering at the hospital. Virginia currently volunteers as a gym runner in the Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit (CRU), where she helps therapists with equipment and spends time with patients during their therapy sessions. 

“Working directly with the patients, working directly with the therapists, it is just unbelievably rewarding,” Virginia says. “It puts everything in perspective. I’ve gotten to know so many of the patients so well, and watching them graduate and get to move on is really special.” 

Anne Pearce Worrell’s involvement began yet another way, by becoming a staff member when she was 23 years old. Starting as a data entry assistant in the Foundation, she saw right away how Shepherd’s family-centered approach permeated throughout the hospital. 

“It always felt like we were one big family, all working toward the same goals. And I think that had a major impact on the patients and their families. They became a part of the Shepherd family, too,” she says. “That founding spirit of family hasn’t just survived, it’s thrived and multiplied, touching countless lives along the way.” 

One of her favorite parts of her role was seeing her team’s work pay off, literally — fundraising efforts from the Shepherd Foundation give patients access to programs like animal-assisted therapy, recreation therapy, family housing, and peer support — services not covered by insurance. In what she describes as a “full circle moment,” Anne and her husband, Andrew, chaired the 2023 Legendary Party. That year’s gala raised $4.4 million for Shepherd, with a record attendance of 645 guests. 

Each of Gene and Libby’s daughters has left their mark on Shepherd, and the next generation of the Pearce family is already getting involved — Virginia’s daughter, Mary Pearce Seawell, interned with the Foundation last fall and is currently a member of the Junior Committee. 

“Shepherd Center has been something that our family has shared, and that’s meant a lot,” Gene shared in a Spinal Column story from 2020. “It will continue to mean something because the gifts we give will live on and help patients and families in the future.” 

By Erin Kenney

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

He did finish the race, and a friend named George Johnson gave him a $100 check, the first donation from anyone not involved in the hospital’s founding. 

Since its start, Shepherd Center has relied on the generosity of supporters to give patients the highest level of care. From fundraising to move Shepherd into its own building, to creating the country’s largest recreation therapy program, to conducting research and implementing new technologies, generous donations from groups and individuals have made all the difference for the hospital and for patients. 

Displaying Need and Gaining Influence 

Just seven years after Dr. Apple secured Shepherd’s first outside donation, patients and staff moved from the West Paces Ferry Hospital into their own building. The 2020 Peachtree Road hospital opened in 1982 after Scott Hudgens sold the land to Shepherd Center at a significant discount and made a sizable donation to the hospital. The new building had 40 beds, with plenty of room to expand. 

“It was like walking into your dream,” Dr. Apple says. “We had wide halls, a huge therapy space, bigger patient rooms — all of the essentials this patient population needed.” He adds that the building brought new credibility for the hospital in fundraising, particularly among charitable foundations. 

The support did follow — from foundations, generous businesses, and individuals. Looking around Shepherd’s campus today, it’s easy to spot the names of influential Atlanta business leaders and philanthropists: Marcus, Blank, Carlos, and Woodruff, among others. But this support is more than a name on a building or a bust in the front hallway — it’s a personal connection to the hospital that lasts a lifetime. Shepherd’s founders, Alana Shepherd especially, made it their mission to show these leaders how Shepherd Center changes lives. 

The late Bernie Marcus, co-founder of The Home Depot, was initially reluctant to visit Shepherd Center. After Alana gave him a tour, he became one of the hospital’s most ardent supporters. 

“What I saw shocked me,” Marcus said in a video statement played at the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation “topping out” ceremony. “I didn’t see the negative, I saw the positive. Everybody there had a goal — they were going to go back to school, they were going to get married, they were going to continue their careers — it was such an uplifting experience.” 

Over the years, Marcus served on the Board of Directors and co-chaired two capital campaigns, The Best is Yet to Come Campaign and Pursuing Possible: The Campaign for Shepherd Center. His support named the Billi Marcus Building in honor of his wife, another fierce supporter of the hospital. Additionally, support from the Marcus Foundation helped fund the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation, slated to open this spring. This support also provided funding to launch Shepherd’s Marcus Community Bridge Program and the SHARE Military Initiative. 

Shepherd Center’s founders prioritized fundraising to support patient families, too. The Shepherd family knew firsthand what it was like to travel across state lines to receive quality medical care, and they wanted to make it easier for other families who had to do the same. Thanks to a lead gift from Jane Woodruff in 2008, Shepherd opened the Irene and George Woodruff Family Residence Center, an 84-unit housing facility for patient families. And last year, Shepherd more than doubled its housing capacity with the opening of the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences, made possible by a $50 million grant from the Blank Family Foundation. 

“Having seen the benefits firsthand of loved ones working alongside patients during recovery, I know it is a clinical imperative,” Arthur Blank, co-founder of The Home Depot, said when announcing the grant. “It is my hope this new facility will ease their burdens in some small way so they can focus on helping their loved ones heal.” 

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine. Some passages in this story are excerpts from the summer 2015 edition of Spinal Column.

And even for staff, patients, and visitors who frequent the garden, every day it presents something new. The garden has also been a backdrop for milestones, like birthday and anniversary celebrations, an adolescent prom, engagements, and weddings. 

During COVID-19, the garden became a special place for friends and extended family checking in on Shepherd patients — visitors could stand along Peachtree Road and chat with patients through the garden gate, allowing people to maintain connection to friends and family without compromising health and safety. It’s no wonder that for many people who pass through Shepherd Center’s doors, the Secret Garden becomes a favorite spot. With its beautiful landscaping and artistic displays, there’s a lot to discover. 

Enjoying Natural Beauty 

Despite being just yards away from one of Atlanta’s busiest roads, the Secret Garden can feel like a private nature preserve. Vibrant orange koi fish swim in a small pond. Birds flit around the lawn and treetops overhead. And raised garden beds, teeming with flowers, fresh herbs, and vegetables, give the garden a dose of bright color. 

The garden’s beauty isn’t the work of one landscape architect or gardener. It’s a patchwork of donated artwork and outdoor furniture, landscaped shrubs and flowers, and raised garden beds tended to by horticulture therapy participants. The initial garden was designed by Shepherd’s landscaping committee, chaired by Dottie Fuqua, in 1982. Over time, other features have been added — Ten Atlanta garden clubs have funded parts of the garden and continue to support the horticulture therapy program with annual grants. Former patient Peter Dames made a donation to build the koi pond. Physician Gerald Bilsky, M.D., alongside his son Marc, who has a deep passion for gardening, donated raised beds for horticulture therapy. 

Many of the plants in the Secret Garden are cared for by patients participating in the Ruth and Talmadge Dobbs, Jr. Horticulture Therapy Program, which was named to honor the memory of Ruth Dobbs McDonald and her family's longstanding and generous support of Shepherd Center. Adaptive gardening helps patients meet their therapy goals, such as fine and gross motor skills, core strength, range of motion, and cognitive goals. But for many patients, it also gives them a sense of purpose and normalcy after a life-changing injury or illness. The garden’s impact stretches beyond Shepherd Center — philanthropist and lifelong gardener Deen Day Sanders commissioned a video of the garden’s use for patients in other facilities.

Memorials, Sculptures, and Art 

In the colder months, when the flowers aren’t blooming, and the horticulture therapy beds are quiet, other parts of the garden — including memorials and art installations — take the spotlight.  

In one corner of the garden, a stone wall creates a tranquil, private place for reflection. The sculpture, designed by Donna Pickens, was commissioned in memory of Charles “Kib” Kibler Browning, Jr. by his family. A talented musician, Kib died due to complications of scoliosis. The sculpture was hand built by Kib's stepfather Bob Goodsell and pays tribute to Kib’s musical legacy in several ways — the sculpture itself bears the name of Kib’s band, The Wishing Wall. And in the center of the wall, a plaque includes lyrics from one of Kib’s songs and encourages visitors to leave their hopes and prayers in a metal slot, creating a spiritual space for meditation and prayer. 

Other sculptures in the Secret Garden also enhance the landscape. “Water of Life” and “With Compassion He Listens to All” — both modern figure sculptures — add to the serene and contemplative atmosphere. Metal figures and seasonal decor in the garden beds, as well as a fairy-sized tiny door from Tiny Doors ATL, create a sense of wonder. 

Perhaps the most eye-catching part of the garden, particularly for passersby on Peachtree Road, is the Secret Garden gate. The gate was dedicated to Shepherd staff by the husband of a former patient. But it was more than a generous gift to the hospital — it was an anniversary present. 

Eric Busko and his wife, Mary Busko, spent many hours in the Secret Garden during Mary’s stroke rehabilitation in 2021. Mary loved the outdoors, and Eric had a history of commissioning anniversary gifts for her from Andrew Crawford of Andrew T. Crawford Ironworks. The garden gate idea seemed like the perfect way to tie together their interests while celebrating the Shepherd staff members who helped Mary during her recovery. Sadly, Mary passed away due to stroke complications before the gate was finished. Now, it stands as a loving memorial to her while celebrating the love and compassion of Shepherd staff members. 

In addition to the Secret Garden, the Hazel Family Garden at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences will serve families for years to come, and new green spaces surrounding the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation will give patients and staff a new close-by option for outdoor therapy sessions and lunch breaks. As Shepherd’s campus changes and grows, giving all visitors access to the outdoors remains a priority, and between all the gardens and greenspaces, there’s something for everyone.

By Erin Kenney

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

But then Rojean saw how it benefitted him, and she changed her mind. Now she says that SHARE changed her life. 

In 2008, just months after joining the army, Rojean was injured when the butt stock of an M-16 rifle hit her in the face, causing a fracture in her orbital floor and skull. She underwent facial reconstructive surgery and jaw surgery. 

She says the injury kept her in “limbo,” with chronic memory and balance issues, necessitating a transfer to a unit where the duties were lighter. She tried treatments and programs to improve her physical and mental health, but she saw no progress. 

When she retired in 2012, things went from bad to worse. She experienced severe mood swings, bouts of anger, memory issues, feelings of isolation, and suicidal ideations. She was unable to work. 

“I was not in a good place,” Rojean remembers. “It affected my relationships with my friends and my family. I needed help.” 

When Rojean came to SHARE in 2015, she was impressed by the staff’s compassion. 

“You are surrounded by people who care about you,” she says. “But they also push and motivate you to pursue your hopes and dreams.” 

Rojean’s hope was to become a nurse. She’d tried school after her injury but couldn’t keep up with the classes. At SHARE, she focused on her physical health and learned to regulate her moods, establish boundaries, and advocate for herself. She also participated in recreation therapy. She believes this work set her up for success. 

“Shepherd helped me become an unstoppable version of myself,” Rojean says. With newfound confidence, she returned to college, earning two associate degrees and a bachelor’s degree while holding several leadership and volunteer positions while in school. She eventually enrolled in Emory University’s accelerated nursing program and graduated in May 2024. 

Now, Rojean works as a medical-surgical nurse at Emory University Hospital and is inspired to help people like the Shepherd Center staff helped her. 

“I am more mentally and physically sound and in such a better place,” she says. “SHARE is an amazing program. I want to impact people in my work like those at Shepherd impacted me.” 

By Sara Baxter

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

“Heart disease is the leading cause of death among Black men, and 60% of Black men have some form of cardiovascular disease,” Jason says. “Running is a great way to improve heart health and develop camaraderie with fellow runners. My father never had anyone to run with who looked like him when he was growing up in Memphis, Tennessee. I wanted to create an organization where Black men could train together but also have an avenue to fellowship.” 

In 2013, Jason and Edward Walton started Black Men Run, a nonprofit that encourages health and wellness among Black men. 

“The camaraderie feels good. You can see it in the guys’ faces,” Jason says. “It just lights you up and keeps you motivated." 

In 2017, Jason had first-hand experience with the statistics he was so familiar with. While sitting at his office desk in Atlanta, he had a stroke and a ruptured brain aneurysm. Luckily, his co-workers acted quickly, and he was rushed to Grady Memorial Hospital. 

Jason came to Shepherd Center’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program in early 2018 as an inpatient and later graduated to the outpatient program, Shepherd Pathways. 

“My experience at Shepherd was amazing, and I still remember the faces of my care staff because they helped me walk, talk, and run again. What surprised me most was how accommodating and patient they were with me throughout my time there,” Jason says. “Running is my passion. Getting back to that was so important to me,” 

Since returning home, Jason has made steady strides toward his goals. While he still experiences some speech impediments and a stutter as a result of the stroke, he hasn’t let that stop him from spreading the message about Black Men Run, which has now grown to 10,000 members globally. 

Last year, he ran his first 10K race since his stroke, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution Peachtree Road Race, which happens to pass by Shepherd Center. 

“To run past Shepherd Center made the accomplishment more impactful for me and I was overwhelmed with emotion,” Jason says. 

Looking ahead, Jason hopes to run a half marathon in 2025 and continue to grow his nonprofit. He leaves this message to fellow stroke survivors: “Be a shining example in your community because the term ‘survivor’ is very significant. It's up to us to uphold that you can recover and never give up. 

“I hope to be an inspiration to others who might have fallen, thinking that they can never get back up again. They can think, ‘If Jason Russell can do it, so can I!’" 

By Damjana Alverson

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

This would be a feat for anyone, but it was especially significant for Allison, who just 15 months earlier — on Aug. 22, 2023 — sustained a traumatic brain injury in a car crash. 

Allison was taken to Augusta University Medical Center’s trauma unit. She was unconscious for 15 days with an uncertain prognosis. 

“We had to pray for her to wake up,” her mother, Monica, says. 

When she did wake up, Allison could not walk and had short-term memory issues. Three weeks after her accident, she transferred to Shepherd Center for rehabilitation. Doctors told Monica and her husband, Josh, that their daughter’s memory might not return. With additional balance and vision issues, it was also uncertain if Allison, a member of her high school’s cross-country team and an accomplished pianist, could return to the activities she loved. 

Allison eliminated any doubts. 

At Shepherd Center, she re-learned to walk, dress, and feed herself and regained her balance and memory. As she improved, she started running and playing the piano again. She was at Shepherd Center for six weeks and spent another six weeks at Shepherd Pathways, a comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury. 

Just a few months after her injury, Allison completed a 5K race with her mother and played a Christmas concert at The Jabez Hardin Auditorium in Evans, Georgia. She returned to school that January. “She was back to where she was before her injury,” Monica says. “It was nothing short of a miracle.” 

Allison had another goal in mind: running the 2024 half marathon — by herself — and without stopping. 

“I was so happy when I finished,” Allison remembers. “I beat the time I set for myself by 20 minutes.” 

Allison, a junior in high school, hopes to attend the University of Georgia. Inspired by her time at Shepherd Center, she is planning a career in the medical field so she can help those with brain injuries the way people helped her. 

“Shepherd Center is a great community,” Allison says. “They are so supportive and encouraging and helped me get better. I would like to do that for others.” 

By Sara Baxter

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

“Being a materialistic person at a young age, I always thought, ‘Well, I'm not giving my stuff away!’” Clint laughs. “What my dad really meant was you’ll always feel fulfilled if you give to others. If you're someone like me who has lived with a spinal cord injury for 36 years, you need to tell someone who’s new to spinal cord injury how you got to where you are today. When I do that, it comes back to me ten-fold.”

That spirit of giving back to the spinal cord injury (SCI) community has shaped Clint’s life, and it all began on the evening of April 8, 1988.

“It was a normal day. I went to work, came home, washed my car. I was 20 years old and unfortunately decided to do the wrong thing. I had been out drinking at the pool hall and decided to race a buddy of mine in my new Trans Am.”

Clint went around a curve too fast and lost control of the car. Because he was not wearing a seatbelt, he was ejected on impact. The car continued to flip and landed on top of him, wrapping him between the front tire and engine, resulting in severe burns on his back and an incomplete C-5 SCI.

After three months in the ICU, Clint transferred to Shepherd Center. He received a skin graft at Piedmont Hospital to replace the burnt skin on his back. Once he was cleared medically, he began his rehabilitation journey in Shepherd’s Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Program.

“My first memory of Shepherd was how excited and happy everybody was,” Clint says. “You are dealing with a traumatic injury, and I was amazed at how positive and professional my care was.”

 After a day of physical and occupational therapy, Clint was surprised when a Shepherd staff member he hadn’t met came to his room.  

“An employee around my age with an SCI comes in after he already finished his day at work to talk about life after SCI,” Clint explains. “I looked up to him as a mentor. I felt so fortunate that this guy spent his own time just to tell me that it was going to be okay. There would be life after this.”

Clint had the opportunity to plan what life after SCI would look like with his vocational rehabilitation therapist.

“Vocational rehabilitation was life-changing,” Clint says. “The therapist helped me focus on what I was able to do today and what would make me happy.”

Clint shared that he loved music and wouldn’t mind working in the music industry but didn’t know how he would realistically be able to attend college.

“College was never a thing for me – I didn’t think I could pay for it, and I thought learning a trade was my destiny just like my father, his father, and down the line,” Clint says. “My vocational rehab therapist showed me how the state of Georgia could help me pay for school, and I said, ‘Where do I sign up?’”

Clint discharged from Shepherd in October 1988 and started college at the Atlanta Art Institute in March 1989. He obtained his associate degree in two years and began working at his dream job doing music production and research at local Atlanta radio station, 96 Rock. He now works in the medical sales industry but looks back fondly on the experience and confidence he gained in his first job after sustaining his injury.

Clint has lived a rich life since that fateful car crash. He started the first wheelchair rugby team on the East Coast at Shepherd Center, now known as the Shepherd Smash, and played on the team until 1996. He served as president of the United Spinal Association of Georgia for three years. In 2017, he even founded a nonprofit called Spinal Cord Injury USA that helps connect people with SCI to talk about all aspects of living with SCI online and during in-person events. The group started with Clint posing questions to a Facebook group to get discussions going. It has taken on a life of its own, growing to nearly 15,000 members.

Above all, Clint’s focus has been to “live happy,” and encouraging others to do the same remains his passion.

“I’ll never stop being involved in the SCI community. When you help someone, you gain so much personally, too,” Clint says. “For the newly injured or anyone who may be struggling with their situation, I just want to say, ‘Don’t wait until tomorrow to start living. Start today.’”

By Damjana Alverson

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

An inspiration for this approach is rooted in the creation of Beyond Therapy®, a rigorous, activity-based program designed in the early 2000s to help people with neurological disorders improve their lifelong health, minimize secondary complications, and get the most from any new neural links to their muscles and other organs, like the bladder. The concept was radical at the time. Activity-based therapy was still an emerging field; most rehabilitation hospitals at the time didn’t offer it. That’s because, back then, the prevailing opinion in the field was that the brain and nervous system simply couldn’t regenerate — couldn’t re-learn or adapt — after an SCI, stroke or traumatic brain injury. Shepherd Center, however, believed otherwise. 

Its researchers and medical staff also made a commitment to ensure Beyond Therapy® would never be a static program. Instead, Shepherd Center would constantly apply evolving evidence — and generate new evidence through its own work — that could lead to better outcomes. Implementing this strategy required another novel idea: Everyone would work collaboratively — researchers, clinicians, patients, families — to consider all needs and all perspectives. 

“That’s become a hugely successful model for us,” says Deborah Backus, PT, Ph.D., FACRM, Shepherd Center’s vice president of research and innovation. “It’s a model based on engaging all stakeholders from the very start and working together to identify meaningful problems and come up with collaborative solutions.” 

Soon, Shepherd’s research and innovation efforts will have a new home inside the Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation (MCAR), which is scheduled to open this spring. The 30,000-square-foot James M. Cox Foundation Innovation Institute, located inside MCAR, will cement Shepherd’s reputation for cutting-edge research and unparalleled clinical care. It will also allow for greater collaboration, bringing existing research and technology teams from throughout the hospital into one space. 

“This is really exciting, especially the additional capabilities and resources for everyone working together,” Dr. Backus says, “from researchers and clinicians to patients and families, and industry and academic partners.” 

Three new spaces will be added to the Innovation Institute, too, including a state-of-the-art Human Performance Lab to help Shepherd Center develop precise, data-informed rehab plans for each patient. The Innovation Institute will also house a new tech showroom that connects patients directly with product developers — allowing people with disabilities to test new technologies and smart home solutions before buying them. Finally, a Best Health Suite will enable staff to offer live and on-demand wellness and fitness classes to patients, partners, and the broader public. Shepherd Center will also begin testing “smart home”-style inpatient rooms that will give patients greater control, comfort, and independence. That effort includes Shepherd’s Access Technology team, whose broader services — including adaptive devices and assistive technologies to help people safely and more independently return to home, work, and school — are open to all, not just Shepherd Center patients. 

Any technological advancement, of course, is only as good as the people it’s paired with. Thankfully, the human element — the hope element — isn’t going anywhere after 50 years at Shepherd Center. “Shepherd Center is so good at taking a holistic look at things,” Dr. Backus says, “and keeping the patient at the center of everything. When we say we’ve integrated research into clinical practice, we truly have. It’s a total team effort. It’s never effortless, and there are always new challenges. But being able to do that is what helps us come up with novel solutions for our patients. “It’s been so fun to be part of this through the years and to see how far we’ve come. The outcomes are so rewarding. I can’t wait to see what’s ahead.” 

By Phillip Jordan

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

Joycelyn Saxon, director of food services, says it’s easy to center the patient in a setting like Shepherd Center. 

“You really get to know patients, their stories, their families, and their rehab,” she says. “We meet with patients directly. We know this is home for you for a while, so we want to make things as comfortable and helpful for you as possible.” 

Saxon has 40 years of experience in food service, with more than half of that in a healthcare environment. Her team’s goal at Shepherd Center is to work with each patient, in coordination with their care team and family, to meet their nutritional needs. But Saxon wants to go beyond that — for each food services team member to be another warm, personal contact supporting patients during their rehabilitation journeys. It’s an approach, she says, that’s nurtured here. “You walk into Shepherd Center and it’s a culture of passion and warmth and family,” Saxon says. “And that includes every team, including food services. I walked into a team here that loved being part of Shepherd Center. Everybody matters, everybody has a voice. Everybody is a huge part of our patient experience. And that makes it easy to keep improving when everyone is invited to bring new concepts and new ideas.” 

Chaplain Dave Wethington, MA, BCC, has seen evidence of this person-centered care from both sides of the equation. When he had a brain injury and was a patient at Shepherd Center in 2012, he could feel hope sliding away early in his recovery. Then, he met Chaplain Alan Roof. 

“He sat and helped me find hope again,” Wethington recalls. “It wasn’t, ‘let’s open up our Bibles.’ It was ‘let’s find your purpose now.’” 

Wethington often applies that lesson now that he’s become a chaplain at Shepherd Center, helping others work through their own fears and doubts. He’s especially thankful for the chance to do so in working with military veterans and active-duty clients through the SHARE Military Initiative. 

“That’s been one of the unexpected blessings for me, helping these veterans and soldiers navigate not just their injuries, but also reconnect with their faith when they might have given up on it,” Wethington says. “Sometimes they need help processing what they have to live with from their service. It’s an honor to help them find healing and forgiveness and move forward.” 

Wethington is one of many former patients who have found their way back to Shepherd Center to serve in staff positions. And while the wisdom and empathy of former patients can be found in all areas of Shepherd’s work, they are most acutely felt in peer support. The program offers opportunities for current patients and caregivers to connect with, and learn from, a community of former patients and caregivers. 

Minna Hong’s patient experience stems from an SCI she sustained in a car crash in 1999. The accident didn’t just affect her physically; it widowed her at 35, and she became a single mother navigating life with paraplegia and two young children. When she thinks back on her rehabilitation, she considers it a time of grief, yes, but also of rebirth. 

“Shepherd Center showed me the way forward,” she says. “Did they solve all my problems? No, I’d be lying if I said that. But they helped me learn how to use the tools, to work things out myself. For that, I will always be grateful to Shepherd Center, and that’s what I’ve attempted to give back.” 

For 18 years, Hong worked as a peer support manager, helping to expand the program and centering it, always, in the perspective of the patients and their families. She was instrumental in creating an evidence-based program that proved its value — research that changed how many rehabilitation hospitals view peer support. For her efforts, the Georgia Hospital Association awarded her the Georgia Hospital Hero Award. 

“Peer supporters give patients a preview of what they could potentially be once they get beyond Shepherd Center,” Hong says. “Seeing is believing. You can’t unsee what you’ve seen at Shepherd Center! So, you can give that hope. But it’s not always easy. So, being raw and open and honest with people during your time together — there’s power in being truthful, too.”

Hong retired in 2018 to pursue her twin passions of being a disability advocate and creating art. Her experiences at Shepherd Center and her relationships with patients still inform much of what she does. “What’s important to remember is that it’s not really about learning to walk or move again,” Hong cautions. “What it’s really about is learning how to navigate this entirely new way of being. Of how you see yourself. How others see you. It’s like immigrating to another country because it’s a whole other language you learn to speak. And you only really get it if you go through it. “So, if we’re truly living the motto of disability rights — Nothing About Us Without Us — peer input and peer support has to thrive, everywhere.” 

By Phillip Jordan

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.