Singing a New Song

Posted June 10, 2010

"When I was 8, I started a second life, learning to live with disabilities. Now, at 28, I'm starting my third life, living on my own without feeling alone."

AS A HAPPY YOUNG GIRL growing up near Mobile Bay in south Alabama, Sarah Amburgey danced and sang her way through life. “I loved Madonna,” says Sarah, now 28. “I’ve loved her since I was very little. Once, my mama caught me dancing like her, and I got in trouble.”

Then when she was 8 years old, in an instant, everything changed. Sarah would never again take ballet lessons or innocently mimic a pop star’s stage routine. There was no warning. Just a screech of tires, a cacophony of crumpling steel and flying glass, and a brutal impact to Sarah’s head.

The car crash put Sarah in a coma for a month. After she fought her way back to consciousness, she had to relearn how to speak and write, and how to use the left side of her body.

Today, if you met Sarah Amburgey walking down the street, you’d simply see a vibrant young woman. You wouldn’t perceive the struggle that has been her constant companion since the accident. You might notice that she doesn’t use her left arm much. Then you might imagine cooking, cleaning, shopping for groceries, dressing yourself—all with one arm hanging stiff and unresponsive. Every day. Every single day.

Because of all that she’s overcome, some people view Sarah as an inspiration. “I can be,” she says. “I can be very sad too.” She’s human. She has dealt with anger—“Why me?”—and depression. Her injuries still won’t allow her to live completely on her own or to work.

But last year something happened — something that has given her more support and more independence. In August 2009, Sarah along with Chloe, her highly possessive gray tabby cat, moved into the Anderson-Fischer Apartments in Mobile. The 20 one- or two-bedroom units all are reserved for adults with permanent physical disabilities. Here, everyone understands what Sarah is going through, and it makes a big difference.

“I’ve come to realize living here has helped me a lot, done a lot of good for me,” she says. “Because I thought I was the only one out there who had this happen to me. And now I have a close friend here, and the same thing happened to him.”

Sarah admires her friend’s dogged adherence to the tedious, painful physical therapy regimen for his injured hand. It has made her determined to resume physical therapy so she can bring her own left hand back to life.

Anderson-Fischer Apartments is one of more than 100 facilities in 27 states operated by Accessible Space of St. Paul, Minnesota. “We’re a nonprofit organization that provides low-income housing to adults with physical disabilities as well as seniors,” says Judd Johnson, a property manager for Accessible Space.

Accessible Space residents live as independently as possible, using only the support that they need. Accessible Space operates some assisted-living facilities, but Anderson-Fischer is simply an apartment house. The apartments have low counters, wheelchair-accessible showers, and other features designed to accommodate physical challenges.

The Alabama Head Injury Foundation cosponsors all three of Accessible Space’s Alabama facilities, and the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development subsidizes rents.

In Sarah’s case, a visiting caregiver assists with daily needs, but Sarah now is part of a community she can count on. “You know you can go right down the hall to your friend if you need help,” she says.

Sarah’s newfound peace and security have inspired thoughts about the future. “If I get better, I’ve got so many things I want to do,” she says. “I have dreams.”

She knows all too well that fate sometimes deals harshly with dreams. Little Sarah did not grow up to be a ballerina. But she can still create beauty with her voice. “My friends have heard me sing here,” she says, though she’s so shy they can barely hear her. Nevertheless, Sarah confesses, “I would love to go on American Idol.”

Why not? For Sarah, life has begun to be full of possibilities.

SARAH AMBURGEY lives in an Accessible Space apartment building that, like two other Accessible Space facilities in Alabama, received start-up funding assistance from Regions.

Everyone has a story.