CLIFFORD DEVRIES, SNOOPY NILOGRAM AND ASCHGROVE-BY-A-NOSE
Cliff Devries is a humble, intelligent man who doesn’t consider himself famous, extraordinary or anything special. He’s felt that way since he was a two-time All-American diver at Rush- Henrietta Senior High School in Henrietta, New York and then a scholarship diver at the University of Kentucky. And he feels like that today. But truth be told, he can’t go online without seeing a viral video of his annual birthday dive, one that has been viewed 50 million times and counting.
The forty-six-year-old Devries is a cancer survivor 22 years out from a life-saving surgery that left the right side of his body paralyzed. During a 13-hour operation doctors removed a six- inch-long tumor lodged at the base of his brain stem. He was told that he’d never walk again. But Devries knew better. He could feel and move a big toe. He had hope.
“They told me after the surgery, ‘you won’t be able to walk, what you’ve got is what you’ve got,’” he recalled. “But I was able to move my big toe so I thought if I was able to move my big toe I’ll be able to do something. Then I got on my feet and if I could do that I could take a step, so I did. Then they said I wouldn’t be able to walk more than a hundred feet, your right side is gone, half your lung is gone, everything on the right isn’t going to work. Now I’m walking, doing all-day diving events, and running one of the best diving clubs in the country.”
So much for the mighty proclamations of others when it comes to you.
A natural righty, Devries had to re-learn life’s most basic skills as a lefthander — brushing his teeth, tying his shoes, eating, writing. He did it. Then he ditched his motorized wheelchair in favor of a cane. The cane was seen rarely if at all and is no longer; so it was on to the next thing. Coaching.
The Rochester Institute of Technology hired Devries as its diving coach in 1999 while he was working simultaneously toward an accounting degree. Twice honored as Upper New York State Athletic Conference Diving Coach of the Year (2000 and 2002) he left coaching to pursue a career in accounting and was even hired by the CIA. Gainful employment at a couple of local accounting firms followed but only for a short time. Enter colleague Mike Cahill, RIT’s swimming coach and program coordinator, seeking a replacement for then-diving coach Steve Ritter who had resigned. Devries snapped up the opportunity.
In his second stint at RIT he has coached seven All-Americans and has added three more Coach of the Year Awards to his collection (2007; ’08; and ’11). In 2006 he founded Upstate New York Diving. Now the state’s largest diving program, by 2016 it had been nationally ranked eight times and was rated the #1 Developmental Diving Club in the United States three years running. Division I programs all across the land such as Stanford, Notre Dame, Auburn and Florida have been among the lucky beneficiaries of Devries’ pupils and 25–30 of his kids have earned All-America recognition.
With all this in mind, perhaps Devries’ greatest coaching success story involves a woman named Natalie Snyder. A one-meter specialist, Snyder is deaf. As a senior in high school she suffered a serious shoulder injury tearing her labrum and triceps and couldn’t dive for two years. But Devries had already recruited her out of Rockville, MD and she had committed to RIT. In 2016 Snyder entered the Upper New York State Athletic Conference championships as the favorite to win the one-meter competition. No surprise; she hadn’t lost all year. Snyder was the squad’s best bet to qualify for the NCAA championships. Devries had faith in her, demonstrated patience, honored her scholarship and paved the way for her many triumphs both on and off the diving platform. The two share an impenetrable bond.
“I came back, and he believed that I could come back and get stronger and recover,” Snyder said through an RIT interpreter. “He made me believe in myself and that I could do well, so I’m very lucky to have had him as a coach. I felt like he could understand my disability. He didn’t allow me being deaf to be a hindrance. He proved that having a disability is not a hindrance to anything and that even though you have a disability you can still be involved in diving.”
Life lessons.
As for Devries’ annual birthday dive he explains that he still misses the exhilaration of plunging into the water so each year he climbs up to the three-meter board which in and of itself presents a challenge. He makes his way to the very end of the board with assistance if needed, raises his left arm to steady himself and “falls” into the pool. Two or three lifeguards are in the water standing by to pull him up and accompany him to the exit ladder.
Ever the teacher and coach, the self-effacing and determined Devries calls it, “good training for them.”
As for attitude and mental toughness he adds, “There is always a sliver of hope. No matter how bad things are, things with me were that I was pretty much dead, but I was able to come back and of course meet [wife] Stephanie. [They have a seven-year-old daughter together, Grace]. Right now, my life is pretty fantastic.”
There are more than 200,000 cases of Parkinson’s Disease in the United States each year. Treatable but incurable Parkinson’s is a disorder of the central nervous system which affects movement and produces tremors first presenting in a limb, often the hand or fingers. Nerve cell damage in the brain causes dopamine levels to drop leading to a host of other symptoms which include slow movement, stiffness and loss of balance. Difficulty thinking, speaking and swallowing arise. Medications which either increase dopamine levels or substitute for the loss of dopamine help manage problems with walking, movement and tremors but over time the benefits of drugs frequently diminish or become less consistent.
Deep brain stimulation (DBS) is a surgical procedure offered to those afflicted with advanced Parkinson’s Disease who experience unstable medication (levodopa) responses. (Levodopa is the most effective Parkinson’s medication, a natural chemical which passes into the brain and is converted to dopamine). Apart from stabilizing medication fluctuations, DBS can also reduce or stop involuntary movements (dyskinesia) and reduce tremors and rigidity while improving the slowing of movement. What it doesn’t do is prevent Parkinson’s from progressing.
Snoopy Nilogram has Parkinson’s Disease. It has progressed to such an extent that his mobility is severely limited and his body is unable to maintain an upright position. It is almost as if he is folded in half. But he has a wonderful support system led by his wife and state-of-the art equipment to help him get around. Most importantly he has an excellent attitude and a fierce tenacity burning brightly masked only by his characteristically placid demeanor.
Snoopy grew up in West Roxbury, attended the Boston Latin School and Bowdoin College and served in the Army as a translator. He has given his life to the West End House, an organization rooted in Boston’s West End to serve underprivileged urban and immigrant youth. Founded by philanthropist/benefactor James Jackson Storrow in 1906 the then-Boys Club was a safe haven for kids where they could meet and work to improve their lives mentally, physically and morally, as was the beautiful camp situated on Long Pond in Parsonsfield, ME. The West End House Camp offered young boys from ages 9 or 10 to 14 the opportunity to enjoy a week or two in the summer on scholarship, as an escape from the city. The original Boys Club at 16 Blossom Street in Boston relocated to Allston-Brighton, MA in 1971 and has been known since 1976 as the West End House Boys & Girls Club, one of the nation’s first to include girls as full members. It continues to thrive as does the camp which now includes summer camping and burgeoning programs and curricula for girls as well.
Nilogram, a central figure in the camp’s glorious history, went and worked there as a youngster and rose to the position of Executive Director while also running the Club. A fixture one might say. Neither the history of the camp nor the story of the Club could be discussed in any depth or with acuity if the mention of Snoopy Nilogram’s name was not made and the recognition of his herculean efforts was not cited almost immediately.
What also must be noted is the fact that Mr. Nilogram is a ‘regular’ still at both the Club and the camp. He inspires others with his being and personally exemplifies the age-old West End House motto: “The Spirit of the House Will Never Die.”
M.L.A., he of the prominent proboscis has been burdened by carrying the weight of countless nicknames over the years, the majority of which were chosen sagely I hope and with humor by yours truly. The moniker “Aschgrove-By-A-Nose” harkens back to a summer camp 25-meter backstroke race on Long Pond worth critical Color War points. Somehow or other it came down to A. and Finnah, one of the camp’s elite athletes and a powerful swimmer. Naturally Finnah was favored to win — he always was favored to win — but A. was a formidable opponent. Close to the finish, the race was neck-and-neck but of course the participants were on their backs. With a stretch of the body heretofore unseen, A. nipped Finnah at the close. He won the race by a nose, the only visual measuring stick. And without the benefit of videotape, obvious it was hence…
A. and I have been pals for 55 years. We literally grew up together at school, in the playground, at camp and thereafter. At one point we determined that in the course of a 365-day calendar year we probably kept each other’s company in one form or another for 350+ days. For many, many years.
About seven years ago A. suffered a massive stroke. Not unlike Devries, he lost the use of one side of his body, his dominant left side. As with Devries, it wasn’t coming back. Surgeries and constant therapy have restored a very little bit but he pushes on just the same, one minute, one hour and one day at a time. If he wants to continue to live — and to some that might be open to question but thank God not to him — it must be this way. What flabbergasts me is not that he perseveres but that he does so with an unrelenting positivity. It is nothing short of miraculous to see and impresses me indescribably.
We do what we want. We do what we can. The point is, it’s never over ’til it’s over and we can do whatever we set our minds to doing.
