By Christine Miller, REALTOR®
Peace Properties, LLC

May 5, 2025, marked my 40^th anniversary as a wheelchair user—a milestone that reflects a life of triumphs and heartaches. What began as a tragic accident in the Arizona desert has shaped my path in life, but it hasn’t defined it. I have built a family, pursued a career in real estate, and learned to navigate a world not always designed for accessibility. Below, I share my story, from the accident to my professional experiences, highlighting the challenges and opportunities I’ve encountered along the way.

The Accident: A Life-Altering Moment

It all started on May 5, 1985, just days before my 19th birthday. I was riding as a passenger in a vehicle driven by my sister on Cave Creek Highway, south of Carefree Highway in the Arizona desert. My sister lost control, and the vehicle flipped multiple times before landing on its side.

The last thing I remember was urging my sister to get back on the right side of the road, then being thrown toward her and the windshield. I woke up sitting upright, my legs tingling, picking cactus spines from my hand with my mouth. My sister was screaming my name, and the wrecked vehicle lay nearby. A passerby towing a boat spotted our lights in the desert, stopped, then went to get help—cell phones were not common in 1985.

I tried to calm my sister down, reassuring her that I was ok even though I could not feel my legs. We were airlifted to St. Joseph’s Hospital, where I underwent surgery. Steel rods were inserted to stabilize my broken back, and I was diagnosed with a spinal cord injury which left me partially paralyzed, unable to walk independently, and reliant on a wheelchair.

Recovery, Adaptation, and Family Life

My recovery was challenging. I spent three months in the hospital’s rehab unit, where weekend home visits provided motivation and a glimpse of normalcy. I’m grateful for the function I retained; some sensation in one leg and the ability to stand with support to avoid falling.

Remarkably, about a month after the accident, while still in rehab, I discovered I was pregnant. I married in 1983 and already had a 14-month-old son at the time of the crash. Despite the circumstances, my family grew, and I went on to have three more children, along with six grandchildren, and one great-grandson.

After my divorce in 1991, I became a single mom, balancing parenthood with my new reality. Over the years, I’ve experienced life much like anyone else—full of joys and sorrows. My disability has taught me the importance of adapting to obstacles, and how to be resilient and creative.

My Career Journey in Real Estate

I’ve always been passionate about real estate, particularly apartment locating and property management. In 2001, I earned my real estate salesperson license and focused on apartment locating. This role suited me well as a wheelchair user because I didn’t need to escort clients to properties—I could handle everything remotely and with minimal physical demands.

In 2005, I obtained my broker’s license and started my own apartment locating service from home, allowing me to be a stay-at-home mom. However, life intervened. I paused my career to care for ill family members and help with my grandchildren. I always kept my license active, renewing it every two years as required by the Arizona Department of Real Estate (ADRE).

This year, with fewer grandmotherly duties and the need for extra income after getting my own place, I returned to the field. I landed a great job at Peace Properties in property management, which I absolutely love. While I’ve helped a few friends find rental homes in the past, I’ve avoided broader home sales or purchases due to accessibility challenges.

Navigating Real Estate as a Wheelchair User

The real estate world isn’t always wheelchair-friendly, especially when dealing with private homes. While public spaces have improved thanks to accessibility laws, residential properties present numerous challenges. I’ve had to think outside the box to navigate these challenges creatively.

Key Barriers

• Accessing Properties: Homes often have high thresholds, steps at entrances, or furniture blocking pathways. If occupied, I might need to move items just to maneuver. Upstairs areas are impossible for me to view. I recently lived in a three-level family home and stayed in the basement (my “dungeon” or “lair”), using a stair chair and keeping separate wheelchairs upstairs and downstairs.
• Lockboxes and Keys: Lockboxes are typically placed on the side of houses, too high, or in inaccessible spots. I’ve had to rely on friends or clients to retrieve keys for me.
• Environmental Factors: Rain makes surfaces slippery and leaves wet tire tracks that need cleaning. Parking can be tricky, especially on hills or uneven terrain.
• General Navigation: The world simply isn’t built for wheelchair users, requiring constant adaptation.

I don’t expect the world to change for me, I’m the one who needs to adapt. That said, these barriers have influenced my career choices, steering me toward roles like apartment locating and property management over home showings.

Tips REALTORS® Should Consider to Help Wheelchair Users When Viewing Properties

For optimal accessibility, place lockboxes on the front door of the property. If an accessible gate is available, the lockbox may be placed there instead, ensuring it is not positioned too high to allow easy reading of the combination numbers. Alternatively, coordinating with the listing agent to pick up an extra key at the property is an option.  

Due to the unique layout of each home, other placement options may vary and should be evaluated on a case-by-case basis. Going through the garage is another option but that requires a garage door opener and does not guarantee easy access into the home. Some thresholds are easy to manage, as I can pop myself up, but if the threshold is even an inch high it can be difficult to pull myself in. I am usually able to pop a wheely and pull myself in, but every home is different.  

Most people don’t think about barriers, the steepness of a hill, ramps, or stairs, unless they have a loved one in a wheelchair. However, those barriers are the first thing I think of when going to a new place.

When I recently moved into my apartment, my son said he had a table for me. He brought it over . . . with four chairs. I said to him, “oh, I forgot about the chairs that go along with the table.” He said, “mom, I didn’t even think that you don’t need chairs to sit at the table,” and we both laughed. Having humor helps with daily life, I try not to take things too seriously, an important lesson I learned when I was in rehab relearning how to navigate life as a wheelchair user.

Reflections: Strength in Adversity

Some days I have more struggles than others because I am older and life in a wheelchair comes with other sets of issues. Humans are not meant to be solely sitting.

Forty years later, my story is one of adaptation, family growth, and professional passion. My spinal cord injury tested me, but it also revealed the depth of human perseverance. Surrounded by loved ones and engaged in work I enjoy, I’ve found meaning and joy amid challenges. If there’s a lesson here, it’s that with creativity and determination, we can navigate any path. . . wheelchair or not.