Now, here in Philippi, restful sleep was a thing of the past, with his senses still on alert for any sound that might be out of the ordinary.
After rest, James resumed his turn at the guard post. He was hyper-aware. The enemy could attack at any time. And they did.
Two shots rang out, alerting the James to the impending attack. He raced back to the stable to mount his steed when a cannonball ripped through the building, splinters of wood flying through the air. The steel ball bounced and then ricocheted into the young man's leg just below the knee. He collapsed in pain and attempted to stay out of further harm.
Four hours later the surgeon found him and performed a battlefield amputation several inches above his knee.
For most the resulting injury that led to his battle-created disability would have crushed what remained of their spirit. James, however, was different. Interred in a prison camp for a couple of months, James returned to Churchville in a prisoner exchange.
“I cannot look back upon those days in the hospital without a shudder,” Hanger said. “No one can know what such a loss means unless he has suffered a similar catastrophe. In the twinkling of an eye, life’s fondest hopes seemed dead. I was the prey of despair. What could the world hold for a maimed, crippled man!”
For some time, the wounded veteran kept to himself. Family and friends assumed he was suffering from depression and the after-effects of war. Little did they know what was actually going on in the mind of James Hanger.
At this point it would be easy to pause and pull a Paul Harvey, "And now for the rest of the story."
And James Hanger does have an amazing rest of the story. Moving from the shock of the loss of his leg, when hope was only a small, flickering flame, James went to work on an artificial leg that would work better than the prosthetic he'd received. Some three months later, Hanger surprised his family by walking down the stairs of their home. He had created a prosthetic better than the one he'd received, one that allowed for hinges on each side of the knee and at the ankle for better movement.
“Today I am thankful for what seemed then to me nothing but a blunder of fate, but which was to prove instead a great opportunity,” Hanger said.
Hanger moved from being considered the first amputee of the American Civil War (there being some 50,000 throughout the war) to becoming a bright light of hope for others who lost the use of their limbs due to amputation.
James Hanger took the worst life could throw at him as a young man and turned his tragedy into a product that would help thousands of patients regain their mobility and freedom.
Today, I am a recipient of the advances the Hanger company has made. My foot was molded using a special Styrofoam which will in turn be interpreted by a computer which will create the special insert for my shoes so that I can more evenly distribute my weight on my feet to prevent damage to the bones.
Because a young man had the courage to deal with his man-made disability, I benefit today. He had the fortitude to keep at it until he created something useful. The impact of that decision and invention have carried on to this day.
James Edward Hanger is an inspiration, reminding us that something "good" can come from something "bad," and that this positive effect can last for generations.
Notable Hanger patients:
Jeremy Campbell, winner of two gold medals in the 2008 Paralympic Games, and world-record holder for the Pentathlon;
Retired Staff Sgt. Heath Calhoun, veteran of the Iraq War, spokesperson for the Wounded Warrior Project, and key advocate in the passage of federal Traumatic Injury Protection (TSGLI) payments to assist wounded American soldiers and their families;
Aron Ralston a mountain climber who became famous in May 2003 when he amputated his lower right arm with a dull knife in order to free himself from a fallen boulder;
A notable non-human Hanger patient is Winter, a bottlenose dolphin (the main attraction at Clearwater Marine Aquarium) notable for her prosthetic tail (designed and manufactured by Hanger).