The voice on the phone carries the unmistakable energy of someone who has lived life at full throttle—every triumph celebrated, every setback transformed into stepping stones. At 81, Tom Cocagne speaks with the same vitality that once made him the quarterback, starting guard, and number one tennis player at Vandalia High School in 1962.

"I was a big fish in a small pond," Tom chuckles, remembering his high school days when downtown Vandalia bustled with merchants, fountain sodas flowed freely, and Friday night football games drew the entire community. His Vandalia youth was filled with days when he and his friends would ride bikes to meet at the park for pickup baseball games, when sixteen or eighteen kids would gather without a moment's planning, and when the local drive-up at Gerken's Tavern served beer to seniors who were old enough to push a button.

Tom's story reads like a testament to resilience wrapped in small-town charm. After a rocky start in college—losing a tennis scholarship due to late-night adventures—he found himself kicked out of St. Ambrose College. But fourteen years later, something remarkable happened. He returned to academics at Findlay University in Ohio, not only graduating magna cum laude but becoming the tennis coach who had once lost his own scholarship.

"I had a drinking problem," Tom admits with the honesty that defines his storytelling. "I was a terrible husband, everything was just not good." The turning point came through Alcoholics Anonymous and meeting Nancy, the woman who would become his wife of 48 years and introduce him to faith. "She really introduced me to Jesus, and I became a Jesus freak," he laughs with evident joy in the retelling.

This transformation shaped everything that followed. Tom built a successful career as a manager at Humana insurance, overseeing eight senior employees in a prestigious position. He became a respected basketball and football referee, working his way up to super sectional games. In fact, it was through our mutual small town basketball connections—I grew up in Pinckneyville—that Tom and I both made a new friend during our conversation. In 2002, harkening back to earlier glory days, at age 58, he achieved something extraordinary in the tennis world—becoming the number one player across eight Midwest states in his age division.

The family Tom and Nancy built together tells its own story of triumph. Their blended household included Tom's daughters from his first marriage, Greta and Kristen, Nancy's two children, and a son of their own. Greta became a celebrated educator now serving Vandalia Community Unit School District, while Kristen thrives in corporate America, managing multibillion-dollar accounts for major companies.

At 70, Tom was still right on-brand, riding his Harley-Davidson from Kentucky to Maine, picking up his sister in Boston for adventures that would challenge riders half his age. A wonderful but incident-free 1,800+ mile tour of New England and the East Coast. Four months later, as Tom was idling at a red light in his hometown, a distracted driver changed everything when he backended him and his Harley. The accident left him classified as a quadriplegic, requiring 18 months of intensive rehabilitation at the Christopher Reeve Foundation facility in Louisville.

"Nancy was there five days a week for 18 months," Tom reflects. "They'd strap me on a treadmill and move my legs for an hour so my legs could try to figure out how to walk again. That's what type of person she is."

Today, nine years later, Tom navigates life in a wheelchair with the same spirit that once carried him through tennis championships and midnight adventures. His home fills regularly with friends for card games, and his church family—which has grown from 900 to 8,000 members—provides constant support and companionship.

The connection to his Vandalia roots remains strong. The day before we chatted in late May, Doug Sitter, the 99-year-old former clothing store owner from downtown Vandalia, called Tom on his birthday. They've stayed connected across decades, their friendship bridging the gap between Tom's rebellious youth and his mature years of giving back to the community.

When asked about his approach to life's challenges, Tom's philosophy emerges crystal clear: "You know what? It makes you bitter or better. Given a choice, I'd just soon be better."

From the small-town boy who spray-painted chickens to the tennis champion who refused to let paralysis dim his light, Tom Cocagne embodies the spirit that makes rural communities like ours special. His story proves that greatness isn't measured by the absence of struggle, but by the grace with which we transform our challenges into victories, and our victories into service to others. Tom has done that in spades. And he’s got the scars and the stories to prove it.