NEWS

Amputee veteran keeps moving forward

Daniel P. Finney
dafinney@dmreg.com

Robert "B.J." Jackson and his wife, Abby, thought they would go out for the night. It was New Year's Eve 2003.

B.J. Jackson

And it was a year the couple were ready to put in the past.

B.J. served in the Iowa Army National Guard that year. Both his legs were amputated after a roadside bomb destroyed his Humvee while he served in Iraq.

B.J. suffered brain injuries, PTSD and, of course, the loss of his legs. He was treated in San Antonio for his injuries. He learned to walk again on a pair of prosthetic legs.

With his wife on his arm, he went to the door of a nightclub in Clive. The bouncer said he couldn't come in. The shoes on his prosthetic legs — a pair of custom-made black, suede Nikes — didn't meet up with the club's standards.

He and Abby protested. They were the only shoes he had for his new limbs. And, after all, he lost his legs in war for his country. Still, they were sent away.

The club has long since closed. The owner apologized and even paid to fly B.J. to an event honoring veterans. But Dec. 31, 2003, became an important night for B.J. Jackson.

"I think about it a lot," he told the Register in a phone interview from his home near Orlando, Fla., where the couple moved in 2011 after Iowa winters proved too hard to navigate on prosthetic legs.

"That night gave me a new outlook," he said. "I was ready to just let it go, like there was something wrong with me. But my wife and my friends said, 'Hey, no, that isn't OK.' I realized there's a stigma on people with disabilities. And I was going to do something about it."

That something became The Right to Bear Stumps, a charitable organization that helps disabled veterans with everything from helping build houses to accommodate injuries to hosting golf outings for amputees.

"Golf sounds kind of strange, I know, but guys really bond over it," B.J. said. "It really helps people who really love the game or are just learning it."

The night B.J. and Abby were turned away at the club, B.J. was still in the thick of brain injuries. He was unsure of himself. He was still learning to speak again.

After the explosion in Iraq, his vocal cords were partially paralyzed. He couldn't talk.

The brain injuries made it hard for him to think clearly, shredded his short-term memory and left him depressed and unsure of himself. He struggled with post-traumatic stress disorder.

Therapy and treatment got his vocal cords working, but it was after the incident at the nightclub that he started to find his voice.

B.J. Jackson lost his legs in a mine blast in Iraq in 2003.

B.J. grew up a skinny kid on the south side of Des Moines. He was shy. He joined the National Guard just to prove he could.

Now, 11 years removed from the amputations and meekly walking away from a club who didn't care for the shoes on his prosthetics, B.J. regularly stands on stages to give motivational speeches. He talks everywhere from small church groups to the annual Harley Davidson rally in Sturgis, S.D.

"That was a great crowd," B.J. recalled. "They love veterans."

The talking still isn't easy. He still has lingering problems from the brain injury. He forgets things. He needs GPS for directions to almost anywhere outside of his immediate neighborhood.

There are tough days. He recently spent time in the hospital to deal with his brain injuries. He keeps the specific reasons private, preferring only to talk about that with his wife and a few close friends.

But B.J. keeps moving forward.

His family has grown. When he was injured, he and Abby had two daughters, both toddlers. Now the daughters are 13 and 11. They've added four boys, ages 9, 8, 6, and 4.

"The biggest challenge I face right now is getting all the kids in the van," B.J. jokes. "And when we go somewhere, everybody wants to bring a friend. There's no room. A 15-passenger van may be our next purchase."

B.J. remains a man on a mission.

He has traded his Army fatigues for a polo shirt and shorts. His theater is no longer the desert, but the stage in the front of the room or the lush green golf courses.

The standing orders are simple: Take care of his family, help his fellow veterans any way he can, and most importantly, stand tall.

"I am secure in my faith and I know that everything happens for a reason," B.J. said. "Every day I wake up, it's a great day to be alive."

Learn more

To learn more about Des Moines native and Iraq war veteran B.J. Jackson's efforts to help disabled veterans, search Facebook for The Right To Bear Stumps, LLC.

DANIEL P. FINNEY is a general assignment reporter covering stories of Iowa and Iowans. He seeks to preserve history, humanity and dignity with his stories whether they bring laughter or tears. Contact him at 515-284-8144 or at dafinney@dm reg.com. Follow him on Twitter at @newsmanone.