The Survivor

Page Three

Huguette then began a new chapter of her life. She met a man at a New Year’s Eve party, and before long, they were engaged. At her wedding, she wore a prosthesis (which she detests) so she could walk down the aisle. A year later, she gave birth to her daughter Kathy. “I changed her diapers, gave her baths, rocked her and carried her just like any mother would,” says Huguette. All on crutches.

At times, onlookers stared or whispered. Children tried to look up Huguette’s skirt in search of her missing leg. “My leg got sick,” she would tell them. Those encounters angered Kathy, but Huguette saw them as chances to tell of her victory over cancer, to show the world that life, even life with just one leg, was good.

She kept her outlook positive, even when she feared the cancer would return. Even when her husband died in an automobile accident. She struggled as a young, single mother, determined to remain in the U.S. to raise her daughter. Money was tight, and Payne, her old OMRF friend, sometimes wired cash to ensure that bills were paid and daily needs met. And until he died in 1964, he even made sure that Huguette and Kathy had Thanksgiving turkeys and presents at Christmas. “Huguette was like part of our family,” says Hugh Payne Jr. “Dad looked out for her just like he did the rest of us.”

Huguette kept fighting. She became a U.S. citizen. She raised Kathy. She became a grandmother. But it was never easy.

Physical ailments still plague her today. Her lungs remain vulnerable, weakened by the aggressive treatment doctors used to treat her cancer years ago. Bouts with pneumonia sometimes have led to other debilitating illnesses. Diabetes and heart issues are constant concerns, and she occasionally suffers from shingles. Phantom pains from her amputation recur even 50 years later, some severe enough to hospitalize her. “When she gets sick, she is sicker than anyone,” says Kathy. “I know the dark side of her life, because I lived it with her and sometimes still do. She’s been near death so many times, and her life has been filled with incredible heartache and tragedy. But she always has hope. No matter how bad it seems, she never, ever gives up.”

Indeed, even on crutches—hers are white metal and adorned with yellow and orange flame-shaped stickers—she has covered more ground than most with two legs. She has trekked through the Amazon and across the Sahara. She has kayaked white water rapids, biked and hiked countless trails. And, says her boyfriend, Dan Brenden, “You should see her on the dance floor. She does disco, spins and twirls, all on one leg. She’s amazing.” Huguette even has earned a following in the unlikeliest of sub-cultures: the world of ultra-distance running.

Brenden travels the world to run races ranging from 26.2 to 300-plus miles, and Huguette always accompanies him. She has become a staple at checkpoints, where she awaits his arrival, yelling, “Go get ‘em, Dan! You can do it!”

In the 150-mile Jungle Marathon in the Amazon, her enthusiasm endeared her to the locals, who used their machetes to fashion a bench where she could sit and wait for the runners. Each day, she greeted the participants from her “throne” (complete with thatched roof), earning her the title “Queen of the Jungle.” Each night, she slept in a hammock and bathed in the river.

During Brenden’s five-day, 200-mile run in the Libyan Desert, Huguette navigated her crutches through deep sand and over dunes to greet him at rest stops and hand out water and food to all the runners. She acted as a translator for race organizers, who spoke French, and participants, most of whom spoke English. Along the way, she stole the hearts of Bedouins who were camped nearby. As the only Arabic-speaking member of the race contingent, Huguette spent evenings with the desert wanderers, sharing stories by campfire light. They, too, devised their own honorific—“Sunshine of the Desert”—and begged her to stay with them.