One Tragic Night (13 page)

It was these words that Oscar's mother wrote to him in a letter when he was a baby, just before surgeons performed his bilateral amputation at the age of 11 months. She would keep the letter for him to read as an adult.

Oscar was born on 22 November 1986 at the Sandton Clinic in Johannesburg. He suffered from fibular hemimelia, the congenital absence of the fibula – the bone that extends from the ankle to the knee. His feet were also malformed. Each only had a big toe and an index toe and was missing the outer bones.

His parents Henke and Sheila set out on a ‘pilgrimage' to seek medical opinions. In his book
Blade Runner
, authored with Gianni Merlo, Oscar recounts how they were insistent on researching alternatives that would allow him to lead the most ‘normal' life possible: ‘At the end of every consultation, my father would ask the surgeon one question: “If it was your child and you were unable to operate yourself, who would you turn to?” In this way, my parents were able to tap into a network of extraordinary surgeons and trusted hands.'

Their search led them to South African specialist Dr Gerry Versveld, who was convinced that if they took the bold decision to amputate both legs below the knee while Oscar was still young, he would be able to learn to walk with prostheses. ‘I have a profound respect for them [my parents] because it cannot have been easy, but then again the Pistoriuses are a stubborn people,' says Oscar.

Six months after the double amputation, Oscar received his first pair of prosthetic legs at the age of 17 months. Made from plaster and mesh and with a flesh-coloured lycra ‘skin', they gave him the mobility he craved to become a ‘wild child', following his older brother Carl everywhere he adventured. Oscar believes that his personality and outlook on life were shaped around this time, when his family was instrumental in laying the foundation stones of his competitive nature. His parents pushed him forward, encouraging him to try every kind of physical activity, rather than playing into the label of being ‘disabled'. As Carl, 18 months his elder, put on his shoes every morning, so Oscar would put on his prostheses. ‘It was all the same to me,' he insists.

‘This attitude is integral to how my family approaches life and their philosophy has made me the man I am today: “This is Oscar Pistorius, exactly as he should be. Perfect in himself.” My brother, sister and I were brought up with one iron rule – no one was allowed to say: “I can't”,' he explains in his book. In a letter written to him by Carl, his brother echoes this sentiment: ‘Part and parcel of our family's approach to life is the lesson that if you lose your way in life, no one can find it for you, you have to do it yourself. Only you can help yourself. You must rely on yourself and find that way and stay true to that way.'

Oscar won his first sporting trophy when he was only six years old – for
Greco-Roman wrestling. At the age of nine, he took up boxing. He played tennis, rugby and cricket and even played provincial-level water polo. Oscar did not see himself as disabled and his competitiveness drove him. He says in his book, ‘I won my first medal in wrestling. The first time you win an award is an unforgettable moment. You are enveloped in a warm buzz of emotions – pride, happiness, and the acute sense of recognition that comes with applause from your loved ones. It is addictive, almost like a drug – but a positive drug, pushing you forward to greater success.'

Oscar's life took a significant detour in 1993 when his parents parted ways, and the divorce impacted significantly on the family's financial welfare. Henke Pistorius came from hard-earned wealth. In 1944, his father, ‘Oom Hendrik', started a limestone mine that still operates today as H. Pistorius & Co., ‘the oldest supplier of the best quality agricultural lime in South Africa'. It would prove to be the foundation of a business empire that has expanded into various fields, most notably commercial property development.

Oom Hendrik's four sons, Theo, Arnold, Leo and Henke, all played a role within the family business, but Oscar's father has since been cast in the role of pariah, the black sheep of the flock. It is a tightly knit Afrikaner unit and many of the next generation of grandchildren and their spouses are also employed by the family business. According to company registers, the patriarch and the three sons own around 120 active companies in the country. Henke, meanwhile, has had less success in business and has invested his energy in a dolomite mine in the Eastern Cape.

In his book, Oscar recalled how he, his older brother Carl and little sister Aimee, had to watch their pennies, which taught them all financial responsibility. ‘As small children we lived in an enormous house and were spoilt rotten, and so when my parents divorced and we were forced to downsize we had no understanding of real hardship. Fortunately there is always a constructive lesson to be drawn from these experiences.'

During his early years, Oscar's mother, ‘an optimist with a bubbly personality' and a ‘great sense of humour', didn't work but his father's bankruptcy and his parents' split put an end to the idyll. Sheila had to take a part-time job but still ensured that Oscar received the best care and specialist attention for his prostheses and benefited from latest technological advancements. ‘I remember her baking a cake in honour of my first set of toes!' he recounts.

Although the children lived with their mother, their father was still very much a part of their lives and the relationship remained ‘amicable' and ‘mutually respectful'. Oscar writes about how his father spoilt them and ensured they
never wanted for anything, buying his kids go-karts and boats. But over the years, the distance between Oscar and his father grew, as indicated in an interview conducted with
The Guardian'
s Donald McRae in 2011. ‘My father wasn't around much when we grew up. I saw him seldom – and it's the same now. He lives and works very far from me on a dolomite mine.' When asked if he and his dad spoke on the phone, Pistorius replied: ‘Mmmm, not much. We chat about once a month. He's a cool guy but he's more of a mate. He's not much of a parent. It's just life.'

When Oscar reached high-school age, his parents allowed him the choice of which institution to attend. Having been raised in Johannesburg, he decided he wanted a change and chose the highly regarded Pretoria Boys High School, an English-language boarding school. This was despite his father having attended the neighbouring Afrikaans school, Affies. The two schools were rivals on the sports fields and it would have been tradition for Oscar to follow in his father's footsteps – perhaps an early indication of his intentions to be his own man and distance himself from his dad. Oscar flourished at Pretoria Boys where sport was high on the priority list and he was taken by the facilities available to pupils. ‘There was even a shooting range,' he would recall.

He remembers himself as a content boarder with many friends, who was both the perpetrator and subject of practical jokes. On one memorable occasion, his dorm mates managed to fill him with terror. They used lighter fuel to set fire to steel cupboards in his room in the middle of the night. When Oscar lurched for his prostheses, which he diligently left at the foot of his bed each night, he couldn't find them. He became panic-stricken and thought he would be left to die when suddenly the fire magically disappeared. The boys came running back into the room laughing and informed him that it was all a hilarious practical joke – their way of extending him a ‘warm welcome'.

In his first year at Pretoria Boys, Oscar was a keen cricketer and tennis player, but as he grew in confidence he decided to pursue his ambition to play rugby and water polo. He excelled at rugby in particular and was assisted by new, lighter prostheses designed by his father's friend, aeronautical engineer Chris Hattingh. The legs were handcrafted, relatively short and shaped liked hooks, precursors to the ‘blades' for which he would become universally known. While Oscar didn't participate in athletics, he did well in the occasional long-distance endurance race and running was an important component of his rugby training. Sport would prove to be the teenager's salvation when he was hit by the most devastating development in his short life.

Oscar's mother, Sheila, died on 6 March 2002. The athlete has since had the date
tattooed alongside her birth date, in Roman numerals on the inside of his right arm. On his left shoulder is a Bible verse from 1 Corinthians: ‘Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.'

Sheila had remarried a few months prior to falling sick with a viral illness that was initially misdiagnosed. She fell into a coma and Oscar was regularly summoned to the hospital after his mother had taken a turn for the worse. Despite these false alarms, Oscar vividly remembers the day he and Carl were rushed to the hospital for the last time. It has left an indelible mark on his memory, as he recounts: ‘That day I was at school in a history lesson when the school principal interrupted the class to tell me I had ten minutes to collect my things; my father would be waiting for me at the school gate. Carl and I arrived at the gate just in time to witness my father driving his enormous Mercedes towards us at breakneck speed. It was clear that something was not right: he was shouting at us to hurry up and get in, and seemed to be on the verge of tears. Although my parents had been divorced for years they still felt great affection for one another. All of our closest friends and family were at the hospital, and it became increasingly obvious that this day was different and that my mother was very close to death. We were rushed into her room to be by her side, and ten minutes later she left us. It was a very distressing moment.' Oscar was only 15 years old at the time.

With their mother's passing, the Pistorius children became like ‘rudderless boats', floating between boarding school, their aunt Diane's home and the houses of their friends. Oscar found solace in sport. ‘Sport was my salvation, as it helped me get through this difficult time. My mother had been a strong woman, the centre of my world. Sporting activity was the only thing that could distract me from such a loss,' Oscar stated in his book.

But Oscar experienced another ‘traumatic' and ‘life-changing' event the following year when he suffered a significant rugby injury. He was tackled badly and broke his leg, preventing him from playing the sport again.

As part of his rehabilitation process, Oscar began physiotherapy at the Sports Science Institute and was instructed to start sprint training to regain functionality in his knee joint. It was then that he was put in touch with coach Ampie Louw, who remained with him throughout his career. The combination of the training regime and new, lighter ‘Flex-Foot Cheetah' prosthetic legs meant Oscar developed a keen interest in running and realised his potential. In his first competitive race in January 2004 he broke the 100 metres world record, with a time of 11.72 seconds – 0.48 seconds faster than the previous record for double
amputees. Within a month, Oscar had improved his time, broke the record again and competed in the South African Disabled Games. His participation introduced him to a new world of disabled sport that he had never delved into before – but he was still intent on returning to the rugby field with able-bodied competitors.

After only eight months of athletics, he had been chosen to compete in the Paralympics in Athens in 2004, aged a mere 17. Overcoming nerves, competing against sporting legends such as Marlon Shirley and Brian Frasure and four false starts, Oscar won the gold medal in the 200 metres race. He had tasted a new high.

Oscar had also discovered a new universe. ‘It opened my eyes to a world that I had previously been disdainful of. I began to understand that by participating solely in able-bodied sport, I was depriving myself; I had never before enjoyed similar levels of sporting camaraderie and sportsmanship. Disabled sport is equally competitive – after all, it is a competition between serious, dedicated athletes – but a unique atmosphere of profound mutual respect prevails. I came to regret having come to disabled sport so late, and in particular to races between amputee athletes.'

Overnight, Oscar became a sporting celebrity and was elevated to the level of superhero for disabled people worldwide. In his personal life, Oscar had also found young and tempestuous love for the first time with a youthful woman named Vicky Miles, whom he talks about as ‘beautiful, charming and unusual'. In his book, Oscar talks about falling head over heels in love a total of four times by the age of 24. Many of these relationships were defined by passionate peaks and troughs, intense love and ugly arguments.

‘Our relationship was very intense and, although this most probably contributed to our eventual separation, it meant that while we were together we approached every moment as though it was our most important, indeed our last. We had a very fiery relationship and often rowed,' he wrote about his time with Vicky, which came to an end after two years.

Oscar became a prefect in his final year of high school in 2005 and professionally he continued to break through virtual ceilings. He competed in the able-bodied South African Championships and finished sixth in the 400 metres race. He also took part in a number of events recognised by the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) and was invited to attend races internationally.

In 2006, Oscar enrolled at the University of Pretoria to study for a Bachelor of Commerce degree, specialising in Sport Science. He also continued to
compete more seriously and changed his manager, from his father Henke to Peet van Zyl, a ‘quasi-father figure'. The agent would be called upon numerous times not only to manage Oscar's skyrocketing public profile, but to rescue him from trouble, and would also testify for him in his murder trial.