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| Starving for Healthcare - JustHealth Helps a Mom | | Print | |
| Written by KRON 4 Staff and John Metz | |||||
Page 3 of 3 Link to OregonianJesse R. Gillette Friday, July 07, 2006 Born: Nov. 21, 1978, Portland Died: June 7, 2006, Lake Oswego Survivors: wife, Jennifer; stepdaughter, Gabrielle Swope; mother, Sally Gillette ; father Richard Gillette; stepgrandmother Carol Reams Service: Held, West Hills Friends Church Remembrances: Pain Society of Oregon Pain his prison; intellect his escape Trapped by physical limits and eventually bedridden, Jesse Gillette became a philosopher of the universe Sunday, July 09, 2006 AMY MARTINEZ STARKE The Oregonian As a child, Jesse Gillette was captivated by imaginary worlds in "Lord of the Rings" and "Star Wars." He liked adults to tell him stories starring Jesse as a brave explorer and as the hero who gets rid of Darth Vader. But life could be bewildering for Jesse. Even at 6 or 7, he began to show signs of melancholy. It took a while for the sensitive, anxious child to learn to read and write. Attending Hayhurst Elementary, then Robert Gray Middle School in Southwest Portland were frustrating for him. Some of the time, his brain had trouble processing and recording things, and he didn't always know what was going on. He transferred to Metropolitan Learning Center . But the school system never worked well for him. He discovered several talents though: He could draw, and was designated gifted in art. If he read something over and over, his brain could record it entirely. And if he watched a movie such as "Star Wars" several times, he could remember and recite all of the dialogue. Bullied as a child, he never had a big circle of friends. But he had a best friend, a boy named Ben. When Ben killed himself, it was a horrible shock to Jesse. He went through therapy. Since his parents had split up, he moved in with his dad, a neuroscientist, then his mom, a legal assistant. But Jesse still suffered from depression. Near his 16th birthday and visiting his grandparents at Thanksgiving 1994 in Milton-Freewater, Jesse shot himself with a .22 rifle in what he thought was the heart. Instead, the bullet ripped through Jesse's spinal cord, leaving him a paraplegic, unable to walk -- but left intact nerves that sent pain signals. Pain became a daily struggle, a walk through fire. After the injury, he went through rehab, and he got around nimbly by wheelchair. Around age 18, he was able to live independently in Clay Tower in downtown Portland for about four years. He met a woman, Jennifer Hall, in a depression treatment program and they married in 2003, and he became a stepfather. He was proud he was able to live independently and marry. But both had intense needs, the couple separated, and Jesse moved to his mother's house in Lake Oswego . Jesse had to rely more and more on opiate medicines and a pain pump. With hip, tailbone and leg pain, it was hard for him to find a comfortable position. He had to read and draw and type propped up on his elbows, on his stomach, often drinking a Diet Pepsi, Snapple and Sprite all at the same time. His elbows and knuckles were red, swollen and callused. When visitors arrived, he had to touch one of those swollen knuckles, but he couldn't shake hands. He finally was bedridden at his mother's house. The medications had side effects, and he had breathing problems and an enlarged heart. He died in his sleep June 7, 2006, at age 27. Jesse's physical universe was small. But his mind was not trapped by his body's limitations. Despite his lack of formal education, he came to study what he called "a universe of all possibilities" -- time and space, consciousness and eternity. He listened to books on tape and borrowed books from the library on quantum field theory, zero-point energy, dark matter, and the uncertainty principle. "I would like to be seen as non-amateurish amateur scientist, and futurist," he wrote. A strong fan of science, he was also a person of strong Quaker faith. He wrote treatises about God -- and believed there was no reason to compartmentalize science and faith. Variously using the name J.R., or J. Robert, or Jesse R. Gillette, he wrote a 250-page novel, "Starship Tales: Legends of Bravery and the Beyond" and had plans for others. Most of the stories he wrote were dedicated to his friend, Ben. He created a language for the space aliens in his book -- the Grehlgorians. He could recite long passages of the Grehlgorian language from memory -- even pausing to correct his own grammar, although he was the only one who understood the language. At one time, Jesse struggled with the idea that he had done what he called "this injury" to himself. He was mad at his legs and frustrated with himself. After he started living on his own, he forgave himself. He told people who asked what happened: "I was depressed." He reached out. He became an eloquent talker and wisecracking joker -- calling himself a "sit-down comic" -- and seemed to make friends easily. Last summer he watched the last episode of "Star Wars," although he had to see it from a cot. He listened to his favorite CDs -- Oingo Boingo; Danny Elfman's movie scores; "Carmina Burana"; and Russian choral music. Prayer was a constant and an important resource in his pain. Jesse was unable, mostly, to go to his Quaker church, but his pastor visited. Jesse felt sorry for atheists. They were like Mr. Magoo, he said, and couldn't see what was right in front of them. Einstein was a hero -- somebody of faith who was also a scientist. His favorite Einstein quote was, "Science without religion is lame, and religion without science is blind." Sometimes he went online to Christian chat rooms to defend science, and sometimes to science chat rooms or atheist chat rooms to defend faith. He felt a kinship with theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking because they were both in a wheelchair. At a lecture, Jesse asked him, "Do you ever dream that you can walk?" Hawking answered, "Nobody ever asked me that. Yes, I do." Jesse always dreamed he could walk, too. His dreams never accepted his limitations. Amy Martinez Starke: 503-221-8534; This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it ©2006 The Oregonian |
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