hidalgo

Thursday, May 18, 1995
Valley Edition
Section: Metro
Page: B-2
Personal Best;

A Close-Up Look at People Who Matter;
Despite Losses, Disabled Man Stays
Upbeat;

By: ED BOND
SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

When his head split in six places in a freakish dirt-bike accident nine years ago, by all odds, Chilo Hidalgo Jr. should have died.
 For everything he lost that day--a natural athletic talent, the normal
life of a teen-ager, a bright future--Hidalgo should be angry, bitter and
resentful, at the very least.
 But Hidalgo, 23--who uses a devilish sense of humor to cheer up the
grumpy commuters he meets each morning as he waits for the bus in his
wheelchair--says, "I'm happy."
 Wearing one of his many baseball hats, and a shirt and a tie, Hidalgo
has become a fixture at the bus stop at Wilbur Avenue and Saticoy Street
in Reseda, where he picks up the Route 169 bus at 8:40 a.m. If he is
missing, regular passersby he waves to every day check on him at home to
make sure he's OK.
 "He's got a heart as big as L.A., all the positive qualities we all
wish we had," said Bob Dryer, an actor who lives in Hidalgo's
neighborhood and befriended him five years ago. "You fall in love with
him."
 Anyone riding the bus with Hidalgo can expect to be prodded and
teased, said Lincoln Osborn, a living skills coach with the Easter Seals
Society.
 Osborn goes to Hidalgo's home every morning. Together, they board the
bus and Osborn takes Hidalgo to a volunteer job watering grass at a
convalescent hospital, or on excursions.
 "Chilo is too friendly with people sometimes," said his grandmother,
Betty Higgins, with whom he lives. "He wants everybody to know his name
and everyone else to know his."
 Most who meet Hidalgo realize quickly how extraordinary he is.
 "He actually makes people's days better," Osborn said. "You can
understand the strength this person has. I can't see myself how I would
handle something like that. He has a tremendous will to live."
 A deep Christian faith has been a key to surviving the accident and
other tragedies, Hidalgo said. Three months before the motorcycle
accident, he found his stepfather slain. His mother is now suffering from
a spinal condition that will eventually put her in a wheelchair too. "I'm
not going to get in one until you get out of yours," she has promised
him.
 Before the accident, Hidalgo was a 14-year-old freshman--and an
admitted daredevil--at Cleveland High School. Ten years of soccer had
given him a quick speed he used as a wide receiver in football. Natural
good looks had also earned him roles in television commercials.
 "There wasn't a sport he couldn't play, or a girl who didn't like
him," said his mother, Louise Lopez.
 On Jan. 4, 1986, Hidalgo was wearing a helmet when his dirt bike hit a
bump and flipped him up in the air. The impact to his head rendered his
face misshapen and unrecognizable. He was in a coma for three months.
 Through his slow, painful recovery, Hidalgo has recently learned to
walk again. Two months ago, using a cane to help pull along the paralyzed
right side of his body, he walked into his church. He plans to walk 15
minutes a day starting next week.
 Through everything, his often silly sense of humor has remained
intact. "He was always a little joker, a great personality," said his
mother. "I'm glad that wasn't taken from him."
 Hidalgo has pushed that sense of humor to some odd extremes, according
to Bob Dryer, who watched in nervous silence as Hidalgo played an old,
harmless prank with some "bad dudes" in a restaurant.
 Another time, Hidalgo pretended to be an alcoholic in an attempt to
make friends at a local Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Both times, the
victims of his jokes just laughed.
 "It's always an adventure with Chilo," Dryer said.
 Hidalgo often does the unexpected, like giving away a tape of his
favorite oldies music to a visitor who showed a casual interest in his
music collection.
 It all has a purpose, however. After waking up from his coma, he told
his grandmother that God told him he was saved for a reason.
 But, he added: "It's a secret."
 Personal Best is a weekly profile of an ordinary person who does
extraordinary things. Please address prospective candidates to Personal
Best, Los Angeles Times, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, 91311. Or fax
them to (818) 772-3338.