The humble reporter who turned into a superhero marked everyone’s childhood and the name of Christopher Reeve will always come to mind whenever we hear the name Superman.
Reeve achieved the unachievable. He made whole generations fall in love with the character he played. Unfortunately, this great man who could brag with his looks suffered serious injuries during a horse riding accident and spent the rest of his days wheelchair bound. His paralysis, however, didn’t stop him from continuing doing what he did best; being an actor, writer, and a philanthropist.
His fans and family always stood by his side and they were the reason why he never lost hope that his condition may improve one day. Sadly, he passed away in 2004, but his three children are there to continue his legacy. Reeve had son Matthew and daughter Alexandra with his wife Gae Exton, and youngest son Will with his second wife, Dana Reeve. Today, all three run their parents’ foundation, Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation.
This organization’s goal is to help those living with paralysis, and they are very successful at what they do. Will Reeve, who’s 30 now, gathers the attention of the public not only because he continues his parents’ work, but also because of the staggering resemblance to his late father.
When Christopher lost the ability to walk and breath on his own, little Will was only a toddler. In an interview with the People he recalls how he and his dad were very close and did lots of fun things together. Christopher even taught him how to ride a bike by giving him instructions and being extremely supportive. When he lost his real life hero, Will was 11.
Just 10 months after his death, Christopher’s wife and caregiver Dana was diagnosed with lung cancer. She passed away two years later, making Will lose both his parents. At the time, he was 13 years old and moved in with the family’s neighbors, Ralph and Ann Pucci, whom Dana trusted to raise him right.
Will once praised the family who adopted him, saying, “The Puccis are…lifesavers. They are the very best people. […] They are the reason that I was able to emerge from the darkest period of my life – relatively unscathed.
“They took me in, and they loved me, not even like a son, they loved me, and do love me, as a son. The Puccis are my family and they always will be. […] When I say ‘I’m going home’ – it’s their house,” he said.
This young man grew up to his parents’ expectations. He is currently a correspondent for Good Morning America, and has also contributed to ESPN’s SportsCenter and MSG Network, and continues being inspiration for many other young men.
He, however, never puts the foundation on the side and believes that by raising money for helping others, he’s honoring his mom and dad. He told Today: “Their passion for everything is what made them so special. They deeply cared about making a difference in the world in any context. It was a really special experience to grow up in a house with them setting that example. I try to carry on their legacy every day by just doing what I was taught.”
During an interview with People in 2016, Will opened up about his amazing childhood, which he considered a “totally normal” one.
“They were the people who told me to turn off the TV, to eat my broccoli, to go to bed,” he recalled lovingly. “I understand that not every child experiences going to the grocery store and seeing their dad on the magazine at the checkout aisle, but … it was a totally normal childhood.”
When told that he looks like his father a lot, this young man says, “My parents were beautiful people on the inside, so if I can resemble them that way, I certainly appreciate the comparison.”
Despite the loss he suffered, Will didn’t let darkness fill in his life. Instead, the memory of his parents served as a guidance for him to turn into a respected individual.
In a Daily Mail article, Will wrote, “There’s something my father used to say and which I use frequently today to not only honor his legacy, but to imbue a new generation with his timeless spirit: ‘A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.’”
People once listed Christopher Reeve on their cover as one of the 25 most intriguing people, and Will is happy he could now share his story about Superman with the magazine. Take a look at the video below to learn more of Will’s life and the foundation he now runs.
In April 2023, he shared that he’s dating a woman named Amanda Dubin. As per her LinkedIn profile, Dubin is an event planner and specializes in event planning and production. She currently works at a company called Victoria Dubin Events based in New York City.
My Daughter Ran Away from Our Shed Saying Someone Was Inside – I Checked and Called My Husband Immediately
When my daughter Cinthy ran into the house, screaming about something in our shed, I went to investigate and called my husband immediately for help. What I discovered hiding inside changed our lives forever, leading us down a path filled with shocking revelations and unexpected new bonds.
I left work in a hurry, eager to pick up Cinthy from Linda’s place. Linda had been our nanny ever since Cinthy was a baby. She couldn’t have children of her own, so she poured all her love into caring for Cinthy.
When I arrived, Linda was playing chess with Cinthy, delighting in her skillful gameplay.
A woman and young girl paying chess | Source: Pexels
“Hi, Clara,” Linda greeted me with a warm smile. “Cinthy’s been a delight, as always.”
“Thanks, Linda. Ready to go home, sweetheart?” I asked Cinthy.
“Yeah, Mommy!” Cinthy chirped, grabbing her sling bag.
Little girl with her bag | Source: Pexels
As we walked home, Cinthy chattered about her day at school. Once we arrived, I set her to play outside while I started making dinner.
I was chopping vegetables when I heard a piercing scream. Cinthy burst through the kitchen door, eyes wide with terror.
“Mommy! There’s something in the shed!”
A woman preparing a meal | Source: Pexels
I dropped the knife and crouched down to her level. “What did you see, honey?”
“I… I don’t know. Something moved in there.”
I glanced outside, then back at Cinthy. “Stay here,” I instructed firmly. I grabbed my phone and headed to the shed, my heart pounding.
The shed was old and creaky. I opened the door slowly, peering into the dim light. The air smelled musty, like old wood and dirt.
A hand opening a shed door | Source: Pexels
As I stepped inside, I noticed the cellar hatch closing. My first reaction was that it must be a burglar intent on stealing the garden tools and whatever else we had stored in there.
“Hello?” I called out. “Who’s there?”
No answer. I strained to hear any sounds but there was only silence. My mind whirled with possibilities. I quickly locked the shed door from the outside and ran back to the house.
A woman inside a garden shed | Source: Freepik
I dialed my husband, James, who was away on a business trip. He picked up immediately.
“Clara? What’s wrong?”
“I think there’s someone robbing our shed, James! They ducked down into the cellar when I went in to investigate. I locked the door to the shed, what should I do now?”
“Clara, call the cops right away. Don’t go near there. Be careful. I’ll catch the next flight home, but call me back as soon as the police get there.”
A woman looks at her cell phone | Source: Pexels
I hung up and dialed 911. “Hello, I think someone has broken into my garden shed at 122 Vine. I need a patrol car to come immediately!”
The operator assured me help was on the way. I turned to Cinthy, who was clinging to my leg. “It’s okay, sweetie. The police are coming.”
Minutes later, two officers arrived. I led them to the shed and unlocked the door. They entered cautiously, flashlights sweeping the darkness. One of them lifted the cellar hatch and shone her light down.
A male and female police officer | Source: Pexels
Minutes later, two officers arrived. I led them to the shed and unlocked the door. They entered cautiously, flashlights sweeping the darkness.
“Ma’am, please stay back. We need to check this out,” one officer said, his hand hovering over his holster. “If it’s a burglar, they might be armed and dangerous.”
They moved towards the cellar hatch, one of them lifting it slowly. “Ready?” he asked his partner.
“Ready,” she replied, her flashlight steady.
A bed in a basement room | Source: Pexels
The beam of light cut through the darkness, and the officer froze. “Wait, they’re just kids,” she said, her voice full of surprise. “It’s okay, kids. We’re here to help you.”
Two boys, no older than twelve, emerged. They were dirty and thin, their eyes wide with fear. I noticed makeshift beds and empty cans of beans in the cellar. They had been living there, surviving on what little they could find.
“Please don’t send us back,” one of them pleaded. “We can’t go back to that place.”
A police officer addresses a young boy | Source: Pexels
The officer knelt down. “What are your names?”
“Joe,” the boy replied. “And this is my twin brother, Stan.”
Looking at the two boys, my heart ached. “Why were you hiding in our shed?”
Joe looked at Stan before speaking. “We ran away from the home. The people there are mean to us.”
A police officer taking notes | Source: Pexels
I looked at the officers. “What will happen to them now?”
“We’ll take them to the station,” one said. “We need to contact this home and get them checked out.”
“Can I come with them?” I asked.
The officer hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, but we need to get them to the hospital first.”
A medical professional | Source: Pexels
I turned to the boys. “I’ll stay with you, okay?”
Joe nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. “Thank you.”
As we walked to the police car, Cinthy tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy, can they stay with us?”
I looked at the officers. “Is that possible?”
“We’ll see,” one replied. “For now, let’s get them the help they need.”
An old house | Source: Pexels
At the hospital, the boys were checked by doctors. They were malnourished but otherwise fine. I stayed with them, sitting in the waiting room and holding their hands.
The police found the so-called “home” the boys described, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that sending them back there was a bad idea.
The next day, I took Cinthy to school and then drove to the home. The building was cold and unwelcoming. The director, Adam, greeted me with a forced smile.
“Mrs. Thompson, I understand you found two of our wards,” he said.
A sinister-looking man | Source: Pexels
“Yes, Joe and Stan. They said they ran away because of mistreatment.”
His smile faltered. “They’re troubled boys. They don’t adjust well.”
“Is that so?” I replied. “I’d like to see where they’ve been living.”
He hesitated, then led me through dimly lit hallways. The rooms were crowded with un-made beds and the place had a generally depressed air about it. I felt a surge of anger.
Depressing looking room | Source: Freepik
Back at home, I discussed everything with Linda and her husband, Peter. “Those boys can’t stay there,” I said. “We have to do something.”
Linda nodded, her eyes teary. “Peter and I have been talking. We want to foster them. But we don’t have much.”
“Whatever you need, we’ll help,” I promised.
The next few weeks were a blur of paperwork and meetings. We faced resistance from Adam, who insisted the boys were better off at the “home.”
A pair of blond boys | Source: Pexels
But we were determined. Cinthy and I visited Joe and Stan regularly, bringing them homemade meals and spending time with them.
One evening, while we were there, I overheard Adam arguing with a social worker. “We’re under investigation, but those kids are lying!”
I pulled the social worker aside. “What’s happening?”
She sighed. “We’ve had reports of neglect. We’re trying to find new homes for all the children here.”
Two women talking | Source: Freepik
Then, Joe was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. This was the last straw. I contacted a lawyer and threatened Adam with legal action and media exposure.
As the investigation continued, more about the sinister operations of the home came to light. Adam and his wife, Julia, ran the place as an income generation scheme. They fostered as many children as they could, claiming government grants, but kept most of the money for themselves.
A young boy has his temperature measured | Source: Pexels
I confronted Adam and Julia one last time. “How could you do this to these kids?”
Julia sneered. “They’re just orphans. No one cares.”
“Well, I care. And I’ll make sure everyone knows what you’ve done.”
With the help of the lawyer and the social worker, we ensured Joe and Stan were removed from that awful place. The news of the home’s neglect spread, and other children were rescued and placed in better care.
Disheveled children | Source: Pexels
Linda and Peter finally welcomed Joe and Stan into their home. They were safe, loved, and starting to heal. I continued to support them, knowing this was just the beginning of a new chapter for all of us.
One evening, I visited Linda and Peter’s house. The boys were settling in nicely, their faces brighter and more hopeful. Cinthy, Joe, and Stan were playing together in the living room.
Children playing chess together | Source: Pexels
At dinner, we all sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. As we ate, I noticed Joe pushing his food around on his plate, a small grin forming on his face.
“Everything okay, Joe?” I asked.
He looked up, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I was just wondering… do you have any more of those canned beans? You know, the ones from the shed?”
A family enjoying a meal together | Source: Pexels
We all laughed, the tension easing from the room. It was the first time I’d seen him joke about their ordeal.
“I think we can find something a little better than canned beans,” Peter said, chuckling.
Joe nodded, his grin widening. “Just checking.”
After dinner, we gathered in the living room. I looked at Joe and Stan, their faces glowing with the warmth of family.
A boy at a family dinner table | Source: Pexels
“You have a family now,” I told them. “A real family who loves you and will take care of you.”
Joe’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Clara. For everything.”
“No need to thank me. Just be happy and safe,” I replied, my heart swelling with emotion.
As I watched them interact, I felt a sense of peace. These boys had been through so much, but they were resilient. With the love and support of Linda, Peter, and all of us, they had a chance to build a better future.
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