Born to Run

Ezra was born in Los Angeles, with a rare congenital condition that affects limbs. His left hand had only one finger. His left leg was missing the knee and the fibula (one of two bones in the lower leg that connect to the ankle). His left leg also angled in toward his body, so his left foot was near his waist.

Ezra’s parents, Clayton Frech and Bahar Soomekh, wondered what would happen to their son. Would he ever be able to walk? There were no simple answers. 

After consulting with doctors, Clayton and Bahar learned that Ezra would need a prosthetic leg—an artificial limb made of plastic, metal, and rubber that would attach to the bottom of his left leg. At 11 months old, Ezra received his first prosthetic. It didn’t fit well, and walking with it was difficult. 

So when Ezra was 2, his parents made a tough decision: to have Ezra’s left foot and part of his left leg amputated. The surgery would be risky and complicated, and months of painful recovery would follow. 

“It was the scariest thing,” Clayton remembers.

Still, the surgery would enable Ezra to wear a prosthetic leg more easily. Clayton and Bahar hoped that one day, he would be able to walk comfortably—maybe even run, jump, and ride a bike. They wanted him to enjoy the life of a typical kid. 

But, as they would discover, their son is not typical. 

He is extraordinary.

Ezra was born in Los Angeles, with a rare congenital condition that affects limbs. His left hand had only one finger. His left leg was missing the knee and the fibula. That’s one of two bones in the lower leg that connect to the ankle. His left leg also angled in toward his body. So his left foot was near his waist.

Clayton Frech and Bahar Soomekh are Ezra’s parents. They wondered whether Ezra would be able to walk.

Doctors talked with Clayton and Bahar. They learned that Ezra would need a prosthetic leg—an artificial limb made of plastic, metal, and rubber. It would attach to the bottom of Ezra’s left leg. At 11 months old, Ezra got his first prosthetic. It didn’t fit well. Walking with it was difficult. 

So when Ezra was 2, his parents made a tough decision: to have Ezra’s left foot and part of his left leg amputated. The surgery would be risky and complicated.

Still, the surgery would allow Ezra to wear a prosthetic leg more easily. Clayton and Bahar hoped that one day, he would be able to walk comfortably. And maybe he would even run, jump, and ride a bike. They wanted him to enjoy the life of a typical kid. 

But, as they would discover, their son is not typical. 

He is extraordinary.

After recovering from a 15-hour surgery, Ezra was given a new prosthetic leg that fit much better. It featured a bendable knee that enabled him to walk in a more natural way. A toe from his amputated left foot had also been surgically attached to his left hand, essentially functioning as a second finger so he could grasp objects. 

Ezra doesn’t remember the many tumbles and tears as he learned to walk all over again. What he does remember is a magical moment—the first time in his life that he ran.

He was 4 years old, at a park with his parents. He was wearing a special type of prosthetic leg meant for running and jumping, known as a blade. Thin and sleek, it looked to Ezra like an upside-down question mark. 

The blade wasn’t meant to resemble a human leg. But it did provide the flexibility, power, and energy of muscles and tendons. 

“I felt free,” says Ezra, now 17, of that first time running with the blade. 

As it turned out, that blade would change Ezra’s life. 

The surgery took 15 hours. After he recovered, Ezra got a new prosthetic leg. It fit much better. It had a bendable knee. He could walk in a more natural way. A toe from his amputated left foot had also been surgically attached to his left hand. It would function as a second finger so he could grasp objects. 

Ezra doesn’t remember the many tumbles as he learned to walk again. What he does remember is a magical moment—the first time that he ran.

He was 4 years old, at a park with his parents. He was wearing a special type of prosthetic leg meant for running and jumping. It’s known as a blade. It’s thin and sleek. To Ezra, it looked like an upside-down question mark. 

The blade wasn’t designed to look like a human leg. But it did provide the flexibility, power, and energy of muscles and tendons. 

“I felt free,” says Ezra, now 17, of that first time running with the blade. 

As it turned out, that blade would change Ezra’s life.

The story of Ezra’s blade began decades before he was born, with a 21-year-old college student named Van Phillips. 

On a spring day in 1976, Phillips was waterskiing with friends. Suddenly, fire broke out on the motorboat that was pulling him, and the boat abruptly came to a halt. Another motorboat swerved to avoid a collision and, not seeing Phillips in the water, ran over him—severing his left leg below the knee. 

When Phillips woke up in the hospital, he was devastated. 

“I laid there, pitiful, feeling that my body was eternally damaged, that I was never going to be whole again,” he would recall in a 2011 speech. 

Soon Phillips was given a prosthetic to replace his lower leg and foot. Made mostly of wood and rubber, it was clumsy, heavy, and painful. 

Humans have been making prosthetics to replace missing limbs for thousands of years. By the 1970s, these devices had certainly come a long way from the iron hands and wooden legs of the past. But as Phillips would learn, there hadn’t been much innovation in decades. Most prosthetics were designed to resemble the shape of their flesh-and-blood counterparts and didn’t work well. 

Phillips couldn’t understand how—in a world where humans had found a way to walk on the moon—the technology of prosthetics could be so crude. 

“I knew there was a better way,” he remembers. 

He was right—a better way was possible. And he was going to invent it.

The story of Ezra’s blade began decades before he was born, with a 21-year-old college student named Van Phillips. 

On a spring day in 1976, Phillips was waterskiing with friends. A fire broke out on the motorboat that was pulling him. The boat suddenly stopped. Another motorboat swerved to avoid a hitting it. That boat did not see Phillips in the water. It ran over him—severing his left leg below the knee. 

Phillips woke up in the hospital.

“I laid there, pitiful, feeling that my body was eternally damaged, that I was never going to be whole again,” he would recall in a 2011 speech. 

Soon Phillips was given a prosthetic to replace his lower leg and foot. It was made mostly of wood and rubber. It was clumsy, heavy, and painful. 

Humans have been making prosthetics to replace missing limbs for thousands of years. By the 1970s, these devices had come a long way from the iron hands and wooden legs of the past. But there hadn’t been much innovation in decades. Most prosthetics were designed to look like their flesh-and-blood counterparts and didn’t work well. 

Phillips couldn’t understand how the technology of prosthetics could be so crude. After all, humans had found a way to walk on the moon.

“I knew there was a better way,” he remembers. 

He was right. And he was going to invent it.

By the time Ezra was fitted with a blade in 2009, Phillips’s inventions had completely transformed the world of para-sports. (Today most Paralympic athletes who use prosthetic legs wear a version of the Cheetah blade.) 

For Ezra, the blade made it possible to finally play soccer, football, and basketball. He proved to be a gifted athlete, agile and strong. 

When he was 8, Ezra attended his first track-and-field competition for people with disabilities. He watched with amazement as runners wearing blades sprinted and jumped, as wheelchair racers zoomed around the track. This is where Ezra tried the high jump for the first time. 

He absolutely loved it. 

As he got older, sports gave Ezra a sense of belonging and helped him make friends. He also learned to better cope with the challenges of having a difference everyone could see. “When I was playing sports, I wasn’t thinking about the fact that I was the only kid in my school with one leg,” Ezra says. “It gave me this escape.”

Slowly, he grew more comfortable with his difference. He’d always hated when other kids stared at him. But he came to understand that most stares weren’t meant to be cruel. His classmates were simply curious. 

Ezra trained himself to ignore the stares and, when he felt like it, to talk more openly about his experiences. 

“Having those conversations broke down barriers,” says Ezra’s mom, Bahar.

Ezra was fitted with a blade in 2009. By this time, Phillips’s inventions had completely changed the world of para-sports. (Today most Paralympic athletes who use prosthetic legs wear a version of the Cheetah blade.) 

For Ezra, the blade made it possible to finally play soccer, football, and basketball. He proved to be a gifted athlete, agile and strong. 

When he was 8, Ezra attended his first track-and-field competition for people with disabilities. He watched with amazement as runners wearing blades sprinted and jumped. Then he tried the high jump for the first time. 

He absolutely loved it. 

As he got older, sports helped Ezra make friends. He also learned to better cope with the challenges of having a difference everyone could see. “When I was playing sports, I wasn’t thinking about the fact that I was the only kid in my school with one leg,” Ezra says. “It gave me this escape.”

Slowly, he grew more comfortable with his difference. He’d always hated when other kids stared at him. But he came to understand that most stares weren’t meant to be cruel. His classmates were simply curious. 

Ezra trained himself to ignore the stares. And when he felt like it, he talked more openly about his experiences. 

“Having those conversations broke down barriers,” says Ezra’s mom, Bahar.

Ezra’s obsession with the Paralympics began when he was 11 years old. Watching the 2016 Paralympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, from his family’s living room, Ezra was dazzled by the power and grace of the athletes.

“It was like the universe was telling me, ‘This is what you’re meant to do,’” he remembers.

He informed his parents of his plan to compete in the Paralympic Games in Tokyo, Japan, which were scheduled for 2020. (They would be delayed until 2021 because of the pandemic.) 

Then he got to work—immediately. 

Every day, he woke up at 5 a.m. to run. He practiced jumping in his backyard every afternoon after school. At breakfast, he scoured YouTube videos for new workout ideas.

What Ezra didn’t realize was that the unrelenting intensity of his self-designed program was putting his body at risk. Several months into his training, a bone in his right leg cracked from overuse—an injury that high-level athletes are prone to. 

Would this be the end of his dream?

Ezra’s obsession with the Paralympics began when he was 11 years old. He was watching the 2016 Paralympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, from his family’s living room. He was dazzled by the power and grace of the athletes.

“It was like the universe was telling me, ‘This is what you’re meant to do,’” he remembers.

He told his parents of his plan to compete in the 2020 Paralympic Games in Tokyo, Japan. (The games would be delayed until 2021 because of the pandemic.) 

Then he got to work—immediately. 

Every day, he woke up at 5 a.m. to run. At breakfast, he scoured YouTube videos for new workout ideas. After school, he practiced jumping in his backyard. 

But the unrelenting intensity of his self-designed program was hard on his body. Several months into his training, a bone in his right leg cracked from overuse. High-level athletes are prone to that type of injury. 

Would this be the end of his dream?

The injury forced Ezra to cease training completely. He chose to use a wheelchair for three months to allow the bone to heal properly. His doctors forbade him to run for another three months after that.

“It was very scary,” he remembers. “I risked my chance of ever being able to run again.”

But slowly, after hours of physical therapy, Ezra began to recover. His parents enlisted a coach to safely guide Ezra through his training—and also teach him how to rest.

“My performance skyrocketed,” Ezra says.

In June 2019, at age 14, Ezra qualified for Team USA, making him one of the youngest athletes ever to qualify. Finally, in August 2021, he traveled to the Paralympics in Tokyo with his dad and his coach. 

No spectators were allowed because of Covid-19, but despite the empty stadiums, Ezra felt ready—and exhilarated. After years of sweat, tears, and sacrifice, he was training and mingling with some of the most elite athletes on the planet.

To remind him of everything he’d done to get there, he wore a pendant around his neck that read “Road to Tokyo.”

And now, it was time for his best event: the high jump.

Ezra had to stop training completely. He used a wheelchair for three months to allow the bone to heal properly. His doctors said he could not run for three months after that.

“It was very scary,” he remembers. “I risked my chance of ever being able to run again.”

But slowly, after hours of physical therapy, Ezra began to recover. His parents enlisted a coach to safely guide Ezra through his training—and teach him how to rest.

“My performance skyrocketed,” Ezra says.

In June 2019, at age 14, Ezra qualified for Team USA. He was one of the youngest athletes ever to qualify. Finally, in August 2021, he traveled to the Paralympics in Tokyo with his dad and his coach. 

Spectators were not allowed because of Covid-19. But despite the empty stadiums, Ezra felt ready—and exhilarated. After years of sweat, tears, and sacrifice, he was training with some of the most elite athletes on the planet.

The pendant around his neck read “Road to Tokyo.” He wore it to remind himself of what he had done to get there.

And now, it was time for his best event: the high jump.

As the world watched on TV, Ezra sprinted toward the bar. In a split second, he leapt 6 feet into the air. For an instant he seemed suspended, a breathtaking display of strength and skill. Then he twirled his entire body over the bar and landed on the mat.

Then he saw it: The bar wasn’t held up by the poles anymore—it was lying on the ground. 

Immediately he realized what had happened. His prosthetic leg had touched the bar, causing it to fall. This small mistake cost him a medal. In the end, he finished in fifth place. 

Everything he had dreamed of, everything he had worked for, seemed to tumble down around him in pieces. The disappointment felt like a painful weight on his chest. For hours, he could scarcely speak. 

“I was really crushed,” Ezra says.

As the world watched on TV, Ezra sprinted toward the bar. In a split second, he leapt 6 feet into the air. Then, in a breathtaking display, he twirled his body over the bar and landed on the mat.

Then he saw it: The bar was lying on the ground. 

He knew what had happened. His prosthetic leg had touched the bar, causing it to fall from the poles that held it up. This small mistake cost him a medal. He finished in fifth place. 

Everything he had dreamed of and worked for seemed to tumble down around him in pieces. The disappointment felt like a painful weight on his chest. For hours, he could scarcely speak. 

“I was really crushed,” Ezra says.

Today, Ezra sees his loss in a different way. He uses it as fuel, energizing him to look to the future. He is currently training for next year’s Paralympic Games in Paris, France, where he is determined to stand on the podium. In fact, the screensaver on his phone is a photo of the three high-jump medalists at the Tokyo awards ceremony. Every time he sees it, he’s reminded of his goal to win at the next Paralympic Games.

Whether or not he medals in 2024, his biggest accomplishment may be off the field, however. In 2013, Ezra and his family founded a nonprofit organization called Angel City Sports. There, Ezra teaches other kids with physical disabilities how to run, jump, and dribble basketballs. 

“Our first year we had 150 athletes, and then each year we’ve grown,” Ezra says. “Now we’re serving thousands and thousands of athletes with physical disabilities across the country.”

Ezra says he wants to inspire every child to pursue their dreams, no matter how hard that may be. “I had people tell me, ‘You’re too young, you’re not gonna make it,’” he says. “I didn’t listen to them. I worked hard, I believed in myself, and I made it happen.”

Today, Ezra sees his loss in a different way. He uses it as fuel, energizing him to look to the future. He is now training for next year’s Paralympic Games in Paris, France. He’s determined to stand on the podium. In fact, the screensaver on his phone is a photo of the three high-jump medalists at the Tokyo awards ceremony. It reminds him of his goal to win at the next Paralympic Games.

Whether or not he medals in 2024, his biggest accomplishment may be off the field. In 2013, Ezra and his family founded a nonprofit organization called Angel City Sports. There, Ezra teaches other kids with physical disabilities how to run, jump, and dribble basketballs. 

“Our first year we had 150 athletes, and then each year we’ve grown,” Ezra says. “Now we’re serving thousands and thousands of athletes with physical disabilities across the country.”

Ezra says he wants to inspire every child to pursue their dreams, no matter how hard that may be. “I had people tell me, ‘You’re too young, you’re not gonna make it,’” he says. “I didn’t listen to them. I worked hard, I believed in myself, and I made it happen.”

^{This article was originally published in the April 2023 issue.}

^{This article was originally published in the April 2023 issue.}