His family was told he would barely make it past his 10th birthday. The small-town Illinois family prepared themselves for their child's imminent death.

Henry Reed was diagnosed with a rare type of muscular dystrophy at the age of 5 that eventually left him a quadriplegic. He was classified as a terminal case. At the age of 61, he muses about his multiple brushes with death.

"I was diagnosed to die at 13. Then at 16," says Reed."Every three years they would move it up."

With his seemingly unwavering positive attitude, he teachesthe students that life is what a person makes of it and not the other way around. Smiling goes further than whining.

Since 1989, Reed has been a staple for disabled and troubled students at Santa Barbara City College. After being a mental health counselor at the health services office at SBCC, he transferred over to the Disabled Students Programs and Services (DSPS) where he has been full-time since 2000.

At first glance, most people might stereotype Reed as they do most quadriplegics. However, with the use of Reed's steel "grabber," which he designed himself, he can take care of tasks like most able-bodied people can.

Reed holds the long, steel rod in his mouth and can turnpages, open doors, and even type on a keyboard. His blue eyes sparkle when heasks people to feel how heavy it is.

"The dentist says I have the jaw of a pit bull." Reed says.

The students who come to the DSPS computer lab know they can expect to see Reed there always with a smile and a joke or two.

"I have struggled with dyslexia my whole life," says Amanda Howard, 20, a DSPS student. "The facilities at the lab have helped me a lot, especially with Henry's guidance and support."

In comparison to the high tech DSPS lab, Reed wasn't fortunate enough to enjoy the luxuries disabled people have today. Growing up poor because of his parent's lack of education, his family was ignorant to the services available for disabled people then. Reed said he really knew what a dirt floor was.

"I didn't even have a motorized wheelchair until the age of 30," says Reed. "So, that was a frustration."

Despite his degenerative disease and meager resources, he found time to help even at the age of 12. Some people have epiphanies that direct them to their purpose in life. For Reed, helping people came naturally.

"I was in seventh grade and taught third graders how toread. The teachers were overwhelmed because there were too many kids," Reed says."I think it was a foreshadowing of what I was supposed to do, to help people."

Even though Reed as thrived on helping people, he never dreamed he would apply that to his future career. In fact, he never thought hewould work.

"One time, when I was about 25, I saw a woman in a wheelchair working in an office," Reed says. "Until then it hadn't even entered my consciousness that it was possible for me to work."

After going back to SBCC at the age of 30, Reed wasn't sure what he wanted to major in. He flirted with the idea of becoming a computer programmer, a common major for disabled people. He quickly realized it wasn't for him.

Reed then took a psychology course one semester.

"After taking everything this school had to offer inpsychology, I realized that would be my major," says Reed.

Reed went on to the University of California, Santa Barbara and received his bachelor's degree in organizational psychology. Reed went back to Antioch University and received his master's degree in marriage and familytherapy.

While he finished his master's degree he worked at SBCC. He was a peer advisor for a while, a position DSPS created especially for him. However, after piecing together part-time jobs at SBCC that added up to 60hours a week, he realized he needed to find a full-time job.

Reed became a rehabilitation counselor for the state of California. He did that for three years until SBCC called him one day. Janet Shapiro, the director of DSPS, wanted him to come back as a counselor.

"I was there before she hung up the phone," Reed jokes.

When Reed became a full-time employee in 2000, SBCC gainedan invaluable asset, particularly the DSPS students and his fellow co-workers.

"Henry makes me want to be a better person," says Sharon Aloni, 20, a DSPS student and a part-time tutor at the DSPS lab. "It sounds cliché, but you can't help but feel good around him."

Aloni stressed that it's not just because he's disabled. It is because he cares so much about the students who come in. His passion and compassion are contagious.

Reed continues to spread his optimism everyday to the students who walk through his door. He guides them with honesty most counselors lack in the bureaucratic world of college.

"Everyday both staff and students close my door and tell me secrets about their lives. It's an honor," Reed says. "How did I get so lucky to gain this position of trust?"