Welcome to Kenmare

Feature Stories (Vol. 109 No. 6--2/07/2007)

Cory Keller makes adjustments to succeed

By Caroline Downs

Cory Keller, a 16-year-old sophomore at Kenmare High School, wears numbers 34 and 35 for the Honkers JV basketball team and is crazy about hoops. "That’s my favorite sport," he said. "Whenever I can get in the gym to shoot around, I go."

His performance on the court demonstrates his passion. After the Bishop Ryan game, he was averaging 7 points and 5 rebounds per game for the season.

He has been shooting 60 percent from the field and 80 percent from the free throw line. His best scoring game so far this season came against Our Redeemer’s when he had 15 points. Standing 6’0", he also plays solid defense under the opponents’ basket: blocking shots, intercepting passes and grabbing rebounds.

Then there’s that little matter of his prosthetic leg.

"I’ve heard a lot of people don’t even know I have it," Cory said. "They’re surprised."

The fans and players on the opposing team have to get over their surprise quickly, however, because if they stare at Cory’s leg for too long, they’ll miss one of his jump shots or steals.

Cory was born with both legs, but the left one had a congenital deformity.

"When I was little, kids would ask me what happened and I just hated it. It was such a long story," he said. "Now, it doesn’t really bother me."

He doesn’t waste much time worrying about the medical condition, and he doesn’t recall the details of his treatments over the years. "You’ll have to ask my mom," he said. "I was really little, three maybe. I remember all the surgeries. That’s the worst memory, but I haven’t had [a surgery] for two or three years."

Sharon Keller can recall the ten surgeries, the extensive visits to the Shriners Hospital in Minneapolis, and the medical details with more clarity than she wants to.

From birth, Cory’s left leg was shorter than his right, the foot only had three toes, and the ankle bones were lacking. The family first sought treatment in 1991 in Rochester, MN, where doctors advised immediate amputation. Sharon wanted more options. "We met somebody who got us in touch with the Shriners Hospital," she said, "and we had an appointment by November 1991."

Cory’s new treatments at Shriners Hospital involved a fixator device. During surgery, his leg bone was broken. Then the fixator was attached to the leg, with pins and wires connecting the bone to knobs on the contraption. "Every eight hours, they would turn the knobs to force more bone growth," Sharon said.

That first surgery was a learning experience in several ways, from Cory’s severe allergic reaction with the pain medication to the ways the staff devised to keep the active kid busy while he healed. "They couldn’t keep him still," Sharon said.

The Kellers left after the first surgery planning to return. "They could only lengthen [the leg bone] so much at a time," Sharon said.

Cory and his mother started the next round in 1996, following a pattern that continued through 1998. "They would usually schedule the surgery for the end of April and we’d be there for the month of May," Sharon said. "He lost his childhood. He would have the fixator on for most of the summer and go back for his cast. Then he would have to learn the process to walk all over again."

Sharon and Cory generally traveled alone to Minnesota for the appointments, but sometimes other family members, including Cory’s maternal grandparents, went along. "We make a little trip out of it," Cory said, describing a combination of sightseeing trips and medical visits.

The treatments to elongate Cory’s leg also weakened it, made apparent after he broke the leg one Fourth of July holiday. The doctors at Shriners Hospital told Sharon the more lengthening they did, the more fragile the bone would become, with no guarantee Cory’s two legs would ever be close to the same length.

In March 1998, when Cory was a second grader, he told his mother he wanted the leg amputated. "He said he didn’t want to do any more surgeries," Sharon said. "He helped make the decision."

She described that decision as difficult, even with Cory’s input. "I’m truly amazed at how he’s adapted to it," she said, then paused before adding, "I’m truly amazed at how well I’ve adapted."

The amputation, just above the knee, was Cory’s sixth surgery and put the active kid in a wheelchair for a while, which gave his classmates at Kenmare Elementary School a way to participate in his recovery as they pushed him around the school and playground.

"He was proud to show off his leg," Sharon said. "The people here were wonderful about accepting him the way he is. The kids at school have been there for him."

After the amputation, Cory learned to walk one more time, with a prosthetic leg. He refers to his artificial legs the way other people talk about their eyeglasses or retainers. "I’ve got eight or nine different legs from the years," he said. "They let you put [a] fabric [cover] on them. When I was little, I had Looney Tunes. When I got into my teens, I had the Denver Broncos for a while."

He smiled. "There’s been some wacky patterns," he said. "Now, it’s skin tone."

His current leg has served him for a year. "It depends on how you grow," he said, then laughed as he described the fate of his previous legs. "When I go swimming, I just use my old legs. They tend to rust up and squeak!"

The amputation was not Cory’s final surgery, however. The inner growth plate on his left leg elongates faster than the outer plate, which pushes his femur out at an angle instead of allowing it to grow straight. In 2000, Cory had surgery to implant staples in the plate to prevent growth. The treatment proved effective and in 2002 another surgery removed the staples.

"We thought that would be the last one, but he’s needed two more surgeries since then," Sharon said. The last procedure occurred in 2004, with Cory missing most of his 8th grade football season.

"He did play one or two of the last games of football," Sharon said, shaking her head. "He was dedicated. He went to every practice whether he could do anything or not."

"I’ve got four staples in there right now," Cory explained. "They’ve worked. The next surgery would be just to remove the staples, if that’s even necessary. They don’t bother me much."

He doesn’t have time to worry about more surgery. He’s too busy with basketball, a sport he’s been playing since he was old enough to join one of the city recreation teams.

"Each year, I kind of learned something different," he said about the way he adapted basketball skills for his left leg. "I always think I can do better, work harder."

He described the lack of power in the artificial left foot as one example. "I can’t jump off it," he said, then grinned. "I’ve tried. I always have to pivot off that foot. It’s hard to do some of the moves."

Cory doesn’t do any special therapy, but he does lift weights. "It helps a lot," he said. "I can only jump off my one foot, so I try to build that up."

He smiled again. "This year, I’m working on dunking," he admitted. "I can get the rim now. It’s going to be a long process."

Cory chooses his legs from a catalog provided by the Shriners Hospital. He orders prostheses designed to handle the impact from sports, and he reports back to the staff about each leg’s performance. "I’ve broken a lot of feet," he said, then shook his head slightly and looked down at his left leg. "I just got a new foot, but I think it’s broken now, too. It clicks when I walk."

He admitted to occasional frustration with his leg, although friends and family rarely know when he is bothered. "Sometimes it rubs or will be really sore at practice," he said, then shrugged. "I just have to fight through it."

He uses an ointment some nights to ease the irritation, which works sometimes. "I just keep pushing myself," he said. "Stuff that I can’t do with it, I just make the adjustment."

Cory has worked his way up the Kenmare Honkers basketball program, along with playing football and dabbling in wrestling. He recognizes the demands of varsity competition, and he wants to participate at that level. To that end, he attends camps, plays on traveling teams in the off-season, and goes to open gym whenever he can. "I want to keep helping the team out," he said.

Those teammates are also his friends, and he described them as supportive. "They’re just normal," he said, then laughed. "We’ve got our stories about my leg!"

He smiled again and deferred from telling any, but his coaches recalled some humorous incidents.

Curt Helmers, Cory’s coach on the JV team, spoke of one C-squad tournament last year when, for the sake of convenience, the entire team jammed themselves into a van to go to dinner. "One of the boys says, ‘Cory, take your leg off and throw it in the back so we have room,’" Helmers said. "Everybody just burst out laughing, including Cory."

Before another game last season, the Kenmare coaches were meeting in a room set aside for their use. They heard a knock on the door and called, "Come on in!" No one entered, so they called again, but still no one responded. "Finally, we open the door and here sits Cory’s leg," Helmers said. "You can hear the boys laughing down the hall and Cory shouting, ‘What’d you guys do with my leg?’"

Lenny Rodin, who coached Cory’s 8th grade team, remembered one particular night in Mohall when the score was close and time was winding down. "Something was starting to get loose on his leg, so we grabbed a janitor to find some tools," Rodin said.

The janitor had difficulty making the repair, but Cory wanted to get back on the court. "He said, ‘Just crank on that thing and tighten it up!’" Rodin said, adding that Cory ran back into the game.

The good humor has served Cory well. "When something does happen to his leg while he’s playing, he’ll just smile about it," Rodin said. "The other kids will laugh about it and go on."

Cory neither expects nor receives special consideration from his team or coaches, or any opponent. "They treat me like the regular players," he said.

His coaches believe he is one of the regular players. Rodin encountered Cory in the elementary classroom and physical education classes before coaching him in 8th grade. "I quickly learned I never did have to change anything for him," he said. "Throughout all of the challenges presented to him, I’ve never heard Cory say, ‘I can’t do that.’"

He described Cory as one of his all-time best players in being able to "take a charge," and setting up for an offensive foul. "This personifies his true nature of being one willing to endure the pain, not for himself, but for his teammates," Rodin said.

"He just wants to be like everybody else, and he is," Helmers said. "He never uses [the leg] for an excuse. If Cory even thought we were doing something different for him, he’d come and talk to us about it."

Helmers described Cory as a hard-working and determined player. "He’s adapting. He gets better every year and finds a way to get it done," he said. "I notice now that he’s done a lot of work on his outside shooting. He’s giving himself some options."

The only way in which Cory’s presence on the team differs from that of his teammates is in the paperwork. According to KHS head boys basketball coach Ken Keysor, the school receives clearance each year, in the form of a letter, from the North Dakota High School Activities Association for Cory to participate in sports. The document basically states that Cory’s leg does not give him an advantage as a player, and the coaches keep it with other team records in case any officials want to review it before a game.

"We don’t focus on it at all," Helmers said. "He just plays."

Rodin admires Cory’s dedication to play basketball. "Cory’s story is as good as any ESPN story of any athlete I’ve seen," Rodin said. "I’m glad I’ve been so fortunate to be ‘courtside’ to see it. He has a team work ethic and determination that will lead him to the places he’s hoping to go."

The first of those places is the Honkers varsity squad, of course. Cory has also looked beyond that, somewhat, to college. Modest as always, he shrugged as he talked about considering schools in North Dakota and nearby states where he hopes to be considered for a basketball scholarship. "I’m looking at a possible job in business or accounting someday," he said.

Another career interest relates to his condition. After his medical and personal experiences, he has thought about working with other people in similar circumstances. "I wouldn’t mind that job, helping the patients out," he said.

Both Cory and Sharon praised the Shriners Hospital staff for their care and kindness. "That’s the friendliest place," Cory said. "If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be doing all these things."

He returns every six months now for check-ups and laughed as he talked about his long-term relationship with some of the doctors and nurses there. "I guess my recordbook is this thick," he said, holding his hand about eight inches above a table top.

"It’s indescribable how they are there to help you with anything you’ve got to do," Sharon said. "It’s like a godsend. I would recommend anybody to go the Shriners if that’s something they need."

Cory has two sponsors in Minot who have supported his treatments at Shriners Hospital. "They arrange the travel," Sharon said. "It’s a wonderful organization. There are no doctor bills. They will cover him up to age 18, and then they make sure to find a doctor near here to continue with him."

Cory lives with his mother Sharon and step-father Skip Wink in Kenmare, along with his sister Laura, a senior at KHS, and his brother Jacob, a first grader at Kenmare Elementary School.

He also spends time with his father and step-mother, Lee and Lory Keller, in Minot, and one of his favorite places might just be his grandfather’s farm outside of Minot. "I ride dirt bike and four-wheeler on my grandpa’s farm," Cory said. "I’ve done that ever since I was little."

He smiled as he talked about shifting gears on the motorcycle. "It’s on the left side," he said, "so I make adjustments. I just keep trying until something works!"

Along with "making adjustments," Cory has worked on his attitude over the years. The active little boy who could hardly sit still at one time learned to concentrate and focus his attention. In elementary school, he struggled with assignments. "I had terrible grades," he said. "In fifth grade, I decided to step it up."

That year, he started paying attention in class, taking his time with assignments and actually doing homework, habits he continues in high school. "It was a dramatic change," he said.

Like many of his classmates, he stays busy with school and holds down a job. Besides playing basketball, Cory is a member of the Kenmare FFA Chapter and an offensive and defensive lineman for the Kenmare-Bowbells-Burke Central Honkers. He worked the past two summers at Gartner’s Jack & Jill, and started a job at the Kenmare Theatre when school began last August. He’s on the honor roll for his grades, and he spends his study halls in the high school commons area surrounded by other kids and a stack of books.

Watching Cory on the court, in the classroom or with his friends, some people may forget he works at overcoming his physical limitations. He never forgets, however, and occasionally he describes himself as a person with a disability who wants other individuals with disabilities to believe they can move forward in their lives, too.

"I think I succeed, and sports is what has been showing it," he said. "I want to show everybody that people with disabilities like this, can do everything everybody can do."

Anyone watching him in the Honkers uniform would have to agree.