Do not follow where the path may lead. Go, instead, where there is no path and leave a trail. -- Source Unknown

"People who try to do something and fail are infinitely better than those who try to do nothing and succeed are."

-- Lloyd Jones

"Do the right thing. It will gratify some people and astonish the rest."

-- Mark Twain

Weather aside, I was looking forward to meeting Kay Reynolds, the woman whose name topped everyone's list of influential Prince Edward Islanders with a disability. Diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) more than half a century ago, Kay has been involved with almost every disability issue on the island. She has also been instrumental in founding most of PEI's disability organizations.

Kay hasn't walked in 30 years. According to Kay, "I can talk and that's about it." Her inability to walk, however, hasn't slowed Kay down much, nor has it prevented her from accomplishing great things for PEI.

Kay's life is many different stories. It is a story about one individual's struggle with a degenerative disease and how she coped. It is also a story about a leader in the disability community of PEI. Finally, it is a story about how a woman's reaching out to help others healed herself.

At a particularly low point in her life, after years of struggling with depression and a lack of self-appreciation, Kay experienced an epiphany. Since then she has been the Kay people know today -- witty, gracious and determined. According to one colleague, "Kay's whole life is about helping others." Although true today, Kay wasn't always sure it would turn out that way.

At 76, Kay is a sharp, charming woman. Her eyes twinkle mischievously. She is always quick with a smile or a laugh. Five minutes into our interview at Kay's home, a woman who had organized a residents' meeting poked her head through the door expecting to chastise Kay for being late. Kay had not told her about our meeting. When the woman saw me taking notes she apologized and hurriedly closed the door. Kay looked at me and said with a grin, "I don't think she'll be doing that again anytime soon."

Kay's journey in the world of disability has been long -- longer than anyone else I know. Putting her situation into perspective, I thought: Kay was living with MS when my parents were still in diapers!

As I think about the history of disability in Canada, I look to the 1960s and the 1970s as the historically formative years. It was during these years that services and supports began to emerge, allowing people with disabilities to live healthier, more satisfying lives. The 1950s, on the other hand, meant absolutely no community-based disability supports -- and no pressure to create them. For people with disabilities, pre-1960 was prehistoric!

For those of us born and raised in the 1960s and 1970s, it is easy to forget the reality of the first half of the 20th century. In 1945 there were few or no social services at all -- for people with or without disabilities. There was no employment insurance or federal pension plan for someone who had to quit work as a result of a disability. There was no socialized medicine. There was no accessible housing, no accessible transportation and no home care support.

Without a supportive family or friends, a person with a disability could never have lived in the community. The services we have today in Canada, while not perfect, do allow people the option of community participation. On PEI in the 1940s and 1950s, there were no such services. There was also very little knowledge about multiple sclerosis itself. This was Kay's environment.

And yet, throughout these many years, Kay Reynolds remained married, raised two daughters and travelled with her husband across PEI, talking and listening to others newly diagnosed with MS.

Many of the services available on PEI today are the result of Kay's work. She wanted to help others avoid the hardships she had experienced. And she was willing to take action -- to work toward changing the way society dealt with people with disabilities. Today, after more than 50 years of fighting (and not always winning), Kay hasn't retired, and she continues to remain positive. Reflecting on her heritage as an islander, the battles she has won and the distance she has come, her eyes continue to twinkle.

As I write this I know that Kay will not be at ease with these words. Praise does not sit comfortably with Kay. She never sought accolades, entering the limelight only when necessary to push an issue.

Kay did the things she did because they needed to be done to make the community a better place. But there was another reason as well -- a more personal reason. Becoming active afforded her an opportunity to participate in her community, to give something back, and to feel like a contributing member of society at a time when people with disabilities were more often considered a burden.

She's reluctant to take credit for her efforts. In a recent interview with the CBC, Kay emphasized, "I haven't done anything alone. It takes a group, a body of people. I'm just one of the cogs in the wheel." Notwithstanding her comments, those who know her acknowledge her contributions.

She's pragmatic. She's optimistic. She likes to work behind the scenes, preferring to make a strategic telephone call here and there rather than march on the provincial legislature -- which she has also done on occasion.

Kay led the building of organizations to help other people with disabilities live independently in the community. She visited people across the province newly diagnosed with MS to lend an ear and offer words of encouragement. She encouraged other people with disabilities to take responsibility for their own destiny by getting them involved in the services that affected them.

It's not Kay's disability that makes her worthy of praise; it's her spirit and her genuine desire to help others. Many people have disabilities. But few people, with or without disabilities, put the same amount of effort into helping society become a better place for all citizens as Kay has.

Origins and early history

She was born Kathleen Reynolds in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, on October 11, 1924. When she was three months old, her family moved to St. Catharines, Ontario. Her father died when Kay was still very young, leaving her mother in a strange city with few friends to raise her child.

Shortly after Kay's father's death, her mother moved them to Ottawa to find work. Kay didn't like Ottawa and asked to live with her grandparents on PEI. Her mother agreed, and Kay moved back to the Maritimes, where she continued her schooling.

She lived in Glen Martin, where she attended a one-room schoolhouse with about 35 other students. Later, she attended Prince of Wales College in Charlottetown, where she studied to become a teacher. Switching from teaching to nursing in 1942, Kay attended the Prince Edward Island Hospital School of Nursing, where she was described as a "born nurse." She graduated in May, 1945.

While studying at teachers college, Kay met a young man named George James ("Buster") Reynolds. Shortly after they met, Buster left Charlottetown to serve a tour of duty overseas during the Second World War with the Prince Edward Island Highlanders. But in August, 1945, George returned home safely, and on September 27, 1945, he and Kay were married. (Already a Reynolds, Kay was one of the few women of the time who did not change her name after marrying!)

Eventually Buster got a job with the Department of Agriculture, working at the Experimental Farm close to home in Charlottetown. They had two daughters: Elayne, in 1946, and Carole, born in 1949. (Elayne now has two daughters of her own, Cathy and Karla, and Carole has two sons, James and David.)

Kay was 25 when diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. She had recently begun working as a private duty nurse. Later, as an obstetrics nurse, she assisted with births. The diagnosis didn't stop her. "I had to keep going and keep working."

She continued to work and raise her two children as the MS progressed, until one day she had a dream that convinced her it was time to change her lifestyle. She dreamed that she dropped a newly delivered baby. Kay took it as a sign to quit work before something catastrophic happened. She was 31 when she gave up nursing.

Giving up nursing didn't sideline Kay. With a husband, two young daughters and a house to care for, she kept busy. With the help of her children she continued to do daily chores until she could no longer walk. She also took an active role in the administrative side of nursing, running the Nursing Registry for Private Duty Nurses from 1956 until it was moved into an institution in 1968.

Kay also became active in the MS community, hosting the first ever island-wide meeting of people with MS in her own home in 1954. The group went on to form the Multiple Sclerosis Society of Prince Edward Island, electing Kay as its first president in 1955.

Throughout the late 1950s and early 1960s, Kay's disease progressed to the point at which she could no longer do housework. She continued to travel around the province with her husband, meeting with others diagnosed with MS. Taking care of the house -- and of their mother -- became the responsibility of the two daughters. "I feel, as a teenager, I didn't know I was doing anything different," Elayne says. "Maybe we got more responsibility earlier in life, which didn't hurt us at all."

But eventually Kay's daily needs became too great for the family. Together they agreed that she would be better off in an institution. It wasn't an easy decision. However, "there was no choice at the time," says Elayne. "You could see her progressively getting worse. Something had to be done. We weren't able to survive on our own.

Kay moved into the hospital on February 11, 1968. She remembers the date because it was her granddaughter's first birthday. It was also the beginning of a long depression for Kay. It was at that point that she began to lose hope.

Kay says, "When the time came that I had to go to a nursing home, that's when I gave up and started feeling sorry for myself. I was hard to live with. I was very angry. I was depressed. I didn't even want to talk to anyone. I guess I growled at my own family. Apart from that, I didn't want to talk to anyone." Kay's depression lasted several years.

Kay's granddaughter, Karla Jenkins, often mentions one of Kay's favourite expressions: "When one door closes, another opens." On July 28, 1971, one door closed; and, for Kay, her family and all of PEI, another opened. Sadly, it was a family tragedy that reawakened Kay's desire to live. Elayne's husband, Kay's son-in-law, drowned. He was 23 years old. He left behind his young wife and two daughters, aged three and one. It shocked the community and devastated the entire family -- especially Elayne. "I needed all the support I could get at that time," she admits.

It was Elayne's need for support that reawakened the Kay of old. It was this tragic event that sparked Kay's epiphany.

Unbeknownst to any of the family at the time, Kay's move into an institution in 1968 had made Kay feel that she was no longer needed -- no longer useful. She had been sent off to a "warehouse" for storage. Up until that time, she had still considered herself a contributing member of her community -- to her family, to others with MS, to the nurses association and to her friends. The move into the institution had represented more than an acknowledgement of Kay's physical requirements; it was a signal to Kay that her contribution was finished. She became withdrawn and sullen, in a downward spiral of depression.

"You leave your home, your family, everything. You don't think there is anything left, which is quite wrong," says Kay. "I realized I had to think of other people."

Kay began offering comfort and support to Elayne. In helping Elayne through this time of grief, Kay found a renewed desire to help others. And in the 29 years since, Kay has never looked back. She involved herself in a host of activities. Advocacy and helping others met two fundamental gaps in Kay's life: It gave her something to do, and it filled a need within her to feel useful. Out of tragedy came hope and out of hope, action. People with disabilities on PEI, indeed all islanders, have benefited from Kay's renewed passion for life.

After the epiphany

Kay resumed her visits, this time branching out beyond just people with MS. She visited patients with recent spinal cord injuries and anyone else in the hospital who looked like he or she could use an ear, or a friend. She became a founding board member of the PEI division of the Canadian Paraplegic Association.

Kay also took an active interest in a host of community activities. It wasn't always easy to participate because, with no accessible public transportation, she had to rely on friends or family to take her to meetings. In 1973, Kay began working with other people with disabilities to increase access on PEI. She travelled to Toronto as one of PEI's delegates for a national disability rights convention. It was at this conference that the first national disability advocacy organization was founded -- COPOH, the Coalition of Provincial Organizations of the Handicapped (renamed the Council of Canadians with Disabilities in 1994).

As implied by the name, COPOH was to be a federation of provincial disability associations. But no such organization existed on PEI, and so Kay returned home after the Toronto convention committed to developing a leadership base in the disability community of PEI. She and others decided to organize a provincial conference of people with disabilities. Held in April, 1974, the conference led to the founding of the PEI Council of the Disabled. Kay was a founding board member as well as the council's president.

Anne Lee-Neilson, the council's executive director from 1989 until 1999, remembers her first meeting with Kay. "I had heard about her, and when I walked into the room, it was evident immediately who this person was because, without saying anything or overtly doing anything, she can dominate a room very effectively. She has a lot of presence. She is very alert mentally. Her eyes are alive. She is very astute and shrewd. You can feel that energy in the room."

Anne adds, "She does not put herself forward at all. As a matter of fact, she is quite the reverse. But she has a definite presence. She probably won't agree with this, but I think she is very confident in who she is as a person."

Anne got to know Kay well over the years, turning to her frequently for advice and direction. "The role of executive can be a lonely job. I have always considered myself very fortunate to have had Kay on my board throughout my tenure. Kay has always been willing to listen to me, and to let me vent and to carry on." Anne also knew that she could count on Kay's discretion. "Over the years I have really become quite close with her, and consider her to be a dear friend."

The mid-1970s was a busy time for Kay. She was active with the newly created PEI Council of the Disabled, the Canadian Paraplegic Association, her church and a host of social and community events. But her family and friends were not always available to ferry her about. The logistics of getting to and from activities, previously simply an irritant, now became a major concern. And she was not alone. Many of the activities in which she was involved also included a number of other people with disabilities, all with transportation needs.

A young volunteer from St. John's Ambulance, on hand at many of these events, became aware of the problem and set out to work with Kay and her colleagues to solve it. That woman was the now-Honourable Pat Rogers.

"Pat and the Elephant" is a familiar phrase on PEI. For the uninitiated, it conjures up images of lion taming and other circus acts. The reality behind the phrase is much less exotic -- and infinitely more practical. Pat and the Elephant is the name of a wheelchair-accessible bus service for people with disabilities across PEI. Pat Rogers was one of the driving forces behind its foundation. It is the only public transportation service on the island.

Charlottetown has the unique honour of being the only provincial capital in Canada with a public transportation system for people with disabilities -- and none for able-bodied residents.

Pat Rogers first met Kay at a disability conference. "She has been my teacher, my mentor and my friend for 28 years," Pat says. "Kay's persistence, energy and determination always to be out there in the fast lane is why the year 2000 marks the 25th anniversary of PEI's only elephant on wheels."

Having listened to Kay and other people with similar needs, Pat felt in 1975 that it was time to do something about the lack of accessible transportation. She decided to purchase a vehicle, equip it with a lift and offer bus service to people with a disability. The plan was fraught with hardship from the beginning. Was it financially viable? Unlikely. Was it necessary? Absolutely! Was the provincial or local government willing to get involved, to deal with the transportation needs of citizens with disabilities? Well, not without a certain amount of "encouragement."

The most immediate concern for Pat was acquiring a van. According to Pat, "Getting a van wasn't easy for me. As a woman, I was allowed to own and drive a vehicle, but I wasn't allowed to purchase one." That was the reality for women on PEI only 25 years ago!

Undaunted, Pat took a ferry to New Brunswick, bought a large cube van there and returned to PEI later that night, parking the van in the driveway of her home, where she lived with her mother. When her mother got up the next morning, Pat told her to look out the widow to see what she'd purchased. Her mother exclaimed, "Pat, that's an elephant!" And so was born "Pat and the Elephant" -- the name of PEI's only public transportation service, even today.

There remained, however, the issue of funding. Pat still needed to buy and install a lift for the van, find drivers and put together the business. She approached both the provincial and municipal governments for support. They declined. The province suggested Pat return after the first year of service, when it would reassess its decision -- the first year would be a self-financed pilot project. Pat, through her network of contacts, found volunteer drivers (herself being the lead volunteer), created a not-for-profit organization to manage the service and put together a voluntary board of directors, of which Kay Reynolds was a member.

By the end of the first year the service was a success and, as the anniversary date approached, users of the system -- Kay included -- lobbied for provincial funding. Pat and the Elephant received an operating grant of $40,000 in its second year. They've never looked back.

Today the service boasts four vans, paid staff and more than 17,000 trips a year provided to people with disabilities on PEI. Given the population base, this represents a significant investment in public transportation for PEI. And the service continues to be called Pat and the Elephant!

"She has that presence"

Kay may have contributed to the pressure put on government to support accessible transportation, but it was in her work with the PEI Council of the Disabled that Kay began to get more directly involved with political lobbying to improve the quality of life for islanders with disabilities. Her gifts of charm and wit often helped her achieve results. But she also developed a sense of when to simply put aside an issue to fight another day -- when there would be a greater chance to win.

Charm and wit aside, Anne Lee-Neilson admires the more direct approach that Kay often employs. Kay has an impeccable sense of timing, and knows just when pressure is appropriate and when it is not. "She does it in such a way that you can't be mad at her. She is very charming. For a woman who can only move her head slightly and one finger, she accomplishes a tremendous amount. She does not beat around the bush. You don't ever get a sense that she is playing games with you."

Horace Carver agrees. The former attorney general for PEI currently practises law in Charlottetown. Horace met Kay at church and over the years has grown to know her well. He feels that her style, which he describes as "very direct, very motivated and very pointed," has been an asset in her work as a political activist. "She is not a downer. She is an upbeat person," he says. "She knows what needs to be done, and she knows how to do it with publicity and without publicity." He thinks Kay is skilled at reading situations and "she knows when a letter or a visit to a politician is more effective than a demonstration. If it is necessary to be involved in a demonstration at Province House, she will be there. Sometimes it takes traditional methods and non-traditional methods to break down the barrier.

"There is a canniness to her; there is no question about that," adds Horace.

He also agrees that Kay Reynolds has "that presence." "Kay is one of those people in life who has 'it.' How do you define 'it'? Well, you either have 'it' or you don't, and Kay has 'it.' She has that presence that attaches to her wherever she goes."

Even coming into their church, Horace says, Kay manages to make an entrance. "Church starts at eleven. At about quarter to eleven, the back door of the church swings opens and in comes Kay with her motorized wheelchair, dressed like royalty. She has the most unusual pinkish cape. In she comes, feet stuck out, steering this motorized chair to a place in the back row where several seats have been removed. She swings and manoeuvres and gets herself into place. When you see her she says hi and flashes a big smile. Pretty soon someone comes along and brings a moveable lectern from elsewhere and sets it in front of Kay with the hymnal, and someone sits beside her to turn the pages. So, during the church service there are two people with a pulpit -- the minister and Kay!"

Physical appearance is important to Kay, not because of vanity, but because of tactics. She recognized early in life that if you wanted to be taken seriously, you had to dress the part. Having a disability was no excuse for dressing inappropriately, according to Kay. In fact, that made it even more important to dress professionally. In addition to helping her fit in with the politicians and other community leaders with whom she was interacting, it had the effect of shifting attention away from her wheelchair or disability and directing it toward Kay Reynolds, the person. Kay, who has spent more than half a century using a wheelchair, knows the importance of being seen as a person, not as an object.

She acquired her disability at a time when both attitudes toward people with disabilities and attitudes toward women were not always accommodating. Dealing with both at the same time was a great challenge. In the 1940s women did not hold leadership positions in the disability field in any of the provinces across the country -- except PEI. To ensure that she was taken seriously, Kay learned how to "power dress" when power dressing wasn't even recognized yet as a strategy.

I had been forewarned that when we met she would be dressed to the nines. And she was. As I entered her room at the Prince Edward Home, a retirement residence, she was sitting in her power wheelchair with her back to me, talking to a couple of friends. As she turned, I was struck by the way she looked -- wearing a bright red floral dress and with impeccably coiffed white hair. It was 1:30 on a Thursday afternoon and I was pretty sure she wasn't going anywhere after our interview. She had dressed up for me.

Recognizing a lifetime of effort

By the early 1990s, already in her late 60s, Kay was comfortable with her personal living arrangements. However, she recognized the need for community housing in Charlottetown for others who needed a high level of personal support but didn't want to live in a hospital to get it.

As board member of the PEI Council of the Disabled, Kay got involved with a project to build accessible transitional housing with attendant services provided for those who needed it. The project was completed in 1993. PEI had its first accessible, community-integrated living option for people with various types of disabilities. With 16 one-bedroom and 2 two-bedroom units, the project provides opportunities for people with disabilities to live independently.

In recognition of Kay's efforts with various disability issues over the years, the coordinating body named the new development the Kay Reynolds Centre.

The honours didn't stop there. In recognition of all Kay Reynolds' work helping Prince Edward Islanders, with and without disabilities, citizens from all walks of life came together at the invitation of the lieutenant governor to attend a luncheon in Kay's honour. On April 1, 2000, the "who's who" of PEI's disability community came out to "roast" their friend and mentor.

The guest list also included business and community leaders from across the province, including the premier, the Honourable Pat Binns. In his address to the audience, Premier Binns recognized Kay for her unique contributions: "It has been my pleasure over the past many years to meet many islanders who have made real contributions to our communities. Some were very important and some were very ordinary, but the ones I remember the most are the ones who have made a meaningful difference in the lives of others.

"You are one of those, Kay, one of those few who have made a difference in the lives of many people. I believe that, as a society, the greatest accomplishment we have made in recent years has been the ability to include people with disabilities in our community life. This change did not happen on its own. It was made to happen by a small group of people like Kay who had the belief and were determined to fight for what they believed in -- in the face of much adversity.

"Through your leadership, we now have many organizations and many community supports in place to help islanders with disabilities. But that is only one side of the coin. If you flip that coin over, you see the tremendous contribution she has made to all of us without disabilities. Perhaps the greatest change you inspired was how you helped us change our attitudes toward people with disabilities."

During the celebration lunch, Kay's granddaughter, Karla Jenkins, also spoke. For most of her life, she said, "Me-Me" was just her grandmother. (When Karla was very young, her sister used to run to Kay saying, "Me! Me!", meaning she wanted something. "My cousin Jamie and I were just learning to talk at the time and thought that was her name so we began calling her Me-Me.") When Karla was growing up, she did not realize how much Kay had accomplished.

However, when Karla went to university, people seemed impressed when they found out that she was the granddaughter of Kay Reynolds. In one of her courses, students were asked to write a paper about an influential islander. She chose to write about her grandmother. It was at that point that she learned of all the activities and organizations in which Kay had been involved.

Karla ended her toast to her grandmother by saying, "Her name is Me-Me. For me, that means: Ask of me and you will receive of me."

It is likely Kay's strong spirituality that drives her concern for others. Horace Carver says, "I have no doubt in my mind what motivates Kay Reynolds: to do good." When I asked Kay what she thought was the most critical issue facing humanity today, she replied: "We need more Christianity. By that I mean we should all try to help people. I don't think talking does much -- actions speak louder than words."

Once, at a party, a woman approached her and started chatting. Kay said she was going to have some supper, and the woman said, "I think I'll go downstairs and have a drink." Kay noticed she had had a few drinks too many already, so, thinking quickly, she suggested, "Why don't you stay and help me?" The woman agreed to stay. "She saw me the next day and thanked me for not having a hangover. No one knows her name, but to me that was something, because I feel I helped."

In 1995, Kay's mother Cathryn ("Cassie"), who had come to PEI many years earlier to be closer to her family, had come to a point at which she was no longer able to live independently. She moved into the Prince Edward Home, the same residence that her daughter had lived in for 25 years! The move brought mother and daughter closer together. On one level, however, the reunion was bittersweet, because, says Kay, "My mother was in her own home until she was 93. The last year, she suffered numerous strokes." However, Kay firmly believes that being able to spend the last five years of her mother's life with her at the nursing home brightened both their lives.

Never too old

Today, more than 25 years after the PEI Council of the Disabled was founded, Kay continues to sit on the board. Her role, however, has evolved. No longer front and centre pushing the issues, she nevertheless continues to play a crucial role in the disability politics of PEI. She is now more of a senior statesperson, taking up the cause when asked. She is no longer a demonstrator.

She is as tenacious as ever, working the phone as well as any telemarketer (with a much higher degree of success), whether it means calling a provincial politician or bureaucrat with a concern. She lends her credibility to various groups and issues, even providing photo opportunities if it will help. While executive director of the council, Anne Lee-Neilson capitalized on Kay's reputation. Anne says, "One of the things I had to be careful about was not to abuse that generosity of hers, and also be careful about who I loaned it to. Often people would want to have Kay's name attached to something, and it might not be something that was worthy."

I asked Anne why Kay, at 76, continues to play such an active role within the disability community. "Part of it is self-interest, wanting to be still connected and involved and refusing to be shut away somewhere. I think that is a really strong motivation. She is a modest woman but she does appreciate the recognition of her efforts." Quite simply, Kay remains involved with the issues because she still believes she has something to contribute.

Kay is always quick to acknowledge that she never accomplishes anything on her own. Only by working with others is she able to tackle the tough barriers that limit people's ability to enjoy all that their community has to offer. While many of the improvements she instigates do allow her to be more personally active in community events, not all are for her own benefit -- many simply benefit a larger constituency of people with disabilities on PEI.

Kay recognized early the need to mobilize young consumers with disabilities, ensuring a continuous supply of new leaders in disability issues. She has made a conscious effort over the years to continue to meet newly injured and newly diagnosed people with disabilities, not just to provide them with support, but also to solicit their involvement in the various organizations with which she is involved.

One of those individuals is Tony Dolan. Today, Tony is the director of the PEI regional office of the federal government's Public Service Commission, responsible for recruiting new members into the federal public service on PEI. He is the past national president of the Canadian Paraplegic Association, vice-president of the Council of Canadians with Disabilities and an active or past member of many other provincial and national organizations representing people with disabilities.

Tony is the first to admit that his involvement in all of these organizations is directly related to his meeting Kay Reynolds more than 20 years ago. Tony came to Canada from Ireland in 1973. After graduating from a chefs school in Dublin, Tony had decided to seek his fame and fortune in Canada, choosing to settle on PEI thanks to a job offer from a Charlottetown hotel. In 1975, Tony had an accident that partially paralyzed him from the chest down. While recovering in hospital, relearning how to do basic things like get dressed and many other activities of daily living, and learning new things like how to manoeuvre a wheelchair, Tony met Kay Reynolds. As was typical of Kay, one day she simply came into his room, introduced herself and invited him to a meeting.

Unsuspecting of her true intentions, Tony agreed. Tony went to this first meeting -- it was a meeting of the PEI Council of the Disabled, and Kay asked him to sit on a committee. He did. Over the years Tony developed his own style, his own ideas and opinions and his own vision. Today, Tony is one of the leaders of the disability community not only in PEI, but in Canada. "It is all because of that first meeting Kay invited me to," Tony concedes.

Tony is just one of the many people Kay has inspired to get involved in disability issues. Not all of them have a disability. Her daughter and granddaughter are both involved, as are other family members, friends and neighbours. Kay's determination has inspired each of them to do what they can to make PEI a better place for individuals with disabilities.

Her granddaughter Karla remembers, "When I was little and we would visit her, we would do lots of different things. We would even go to dances. I just thought it was normal for people in wheelchairs to dance. I never thought of a person with a disability as anything but a person. It was just kind of ingrained in us as children because we were around it so much."

Over the years Kay has met and worked with all kinds of personality types. She quickly learned that each person required an individualized approach. If someone wanted help, fine. If not, that was fine, too. Like an effective counsellor, she tailored her approach to their needs. When people are having a particularly tough time, Kay's approach is to listen. "You know it is better not to say anything to them," she says. "It is better to let them just talk and get those problems off their shoulders and be a good listener. When they're feeling sad, sometimes there is no sense saying anything."

Although it may seem otherwise, Kay is not wholly consumed by the disability issues of PEI. She has other interests. She likes going to the theatre. She likes getting together with her nursing friends, many of whom she's known for more than 50 years! She likes gardening and pottery. She goes to church. Anne Lee-Neilson, who used to help Kay with her agenda, says her appointment book "was full all the time. To keep up with Kay's schedule would exhaust a much younger person. She is out all the time! Only now is she slowing down slightly and trying to get out of a few things, but she still has a few organizations that she is really committed to" such as the PEI Council of the Disabled, Pat and the Elephant and the Kay Reynolds Centre.

Kay is also a believer in the adage that you are never too old to learn. A few years ago, Kay decided to start taking courses at the University of Prince Edward Island. To date she has taken courses in theology, psychology and sociology.

"Have faith and keep going"

Like anyone, Kay Reynolds has had her ups and downs. She was a leader when there were no followers. At various points along the road she has been mother, daughter, wife, grandmother, friend, patient, mentor, advocate and role model. She has watched her mobility transform over time to the point at which, today, she can move only one hand. But she can still speak. And advocate. And she does.

It has been a long road -- one with many twists and turns -- and only Kay really understands the challenges she's had to face along the way. Horace Carver points out, "The early years of her life were not easy. It wasn't in the year 2000 when that stuff happened. That happened a long time ago. We just celebrated the 100th birthday of the Queen Mother; Kay has had MS for half of the Queen Mother's lifetime. There is danger of failing to put that into context. There is danger of just looking at the now. There is danger of just looking at what she has accomplished in the last 15 or 20 years." Horace notes that it was twice as long ago that Kay struggled with raising a family and the onset of MS. "That in itself, in those times, should have been enough to crush the woman."

Although slowing down, Kay nevertheless devotes considerable time to family and friends. She continues to visit new patients in the hospital, to offer encouragement and to listen.

Perhaps the greatest tribute to Kay Reynolds is the very nature of PEI today -- its accessibility and its openness to people with disabilities. Says Kay: "When I was first in a wheelchair and I went to a mall, everyone looked at me like I was from Mars. Now they don't even bother to look. They just got used to people in wheelchairs."

Horace Carver, who counts himself "very blessed in life," has undoubtedly met fascinating people during his career. He was attorney general of PEI when Prime Minister Jean Chrétien was attorney general of Canada. "If I were to make a list of the ten most interesting people I have encountered in my life," he says, "I would definitely list Kay Reynolds as one of those ten... When all is said and done, she might even make the top seven."

Kay "has the courage of her convictions," adds Anne Lee-Neilson. "She will speak up about what she believes in. I think that is what really makes a person great."

If Kay had never been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, would she have been as involved in her community? Probably, according to Kay. "I was always the type of person to help others. I went into nursing because of that. I think, regardless of my disability, I would have always wanted to help others."

But Anne Lee-Neilson, who agrees that Kay would still have been "an active member of the community in some capacity," points out that Kay's interests would not likely have been in disability issues. "We were lucky that she got MS and used her energy helping the disability community on the island," Anne says, "because she has made a significant contribution."

Like so many others, Kay's disability directed her where she would use her talents but it didn't fundamentally change the person. Kay Reynolds is someone who has made, and will continue to make, a difference.

"My philosophy is to have faith and keep going."