Tell Me More with Kelly Corrigan | Ret. Col. Greg Gadson | Season 6 | Episode 5

In the almost 250-year-old experiment that is America, it's easy to take for granted our right to nonstop criticism, protest, and debate.

But that freedom comes at a cost.

Retired Colonel Greg Gadson has fought in nearly every major U.S. conflict in the last 25 years and has been much decorated for his service.

3 Bronze Stars, two Legion of Merit Awards, and a Distinguished Service Medal.

He grew up a big kid from a hardworking family who wanted only to play football.

But after losing both his legs in Iraq, he became the voice of wounded veterans everywhere.

I'm Kelly Corrigan, this is "Tell Me More," and here is my conversation with amateur photographer, locker room inspiration, and Purple Heart, retired Colonel Greg Gadson.

♪ So, the reason that we wanted to talk to you is because we're in the middle of this series that's trying to figure out what it takes to make it in America today.

I think there's 20 million people who are either actively in the military now or veterans.

How are we doing right by them and where are we falling short?

I think America's heart is definitely in the right place with respect to our military and our veterans, and I'm grateful for that.

When we don't honor the service of our veterans and our active duty, we are fundamentally not underwriting our security as a nation.

I mean, when we don't have people that want to fight and defend this great country, then--then that will be a significant crossroads.

And so, I volunteered.

I served because I wanted to.

And it's not something for everyone.

And I wouldn't change a thing.

I would do it all over again.

Your parents grew up in Walterboro, South Carolina.

Yep.

Jim Crow South.

Yep.

In the forties.

'45.

Born in 1945.

Uh-huh.

Do you have a strong sense of what that was like for them?

What choices were blocked from them?

My sense is that that was part of the environment, but their sharing of it me wasn't-- that wasn't the entire story.

I never felt like that's all they focused on.

My dad picking cotton, you know, plowing behind a mule.

You know, those kinds of things stand out more in my mind than--than maybe the overall injustices of the times.

They--they didn't really focus on that.

And you were a kid who was more into playing football.

I loved history, but other than that, I really didn't have any sort of drive to excel in academics.

I was a jock.

I was--I loved sports and so, I understood for me to go to the next level, I needed to maintain and have, you know, adequate grades that wouldn't prevent me from, you know, trying to pursue it in college.

And so, that in itself probably kept me out of trouble with my parents.

And then you went to West Point.

I played football in the state of Virginia.

Did well.

I mean, I guess from an accolade perspective.

I thought I was going on scholarship to the University of Virginia and was kind of queued up for that.

And then essentially at the last minute, they decided not to offer me a scholarship.

Didn't really have a plan B, didn't have any options, and a football coach from Army came to my high school to recruit another classmate.

And my coach, sort of as a sidebar, said, "You know, here's a good kid.

Here's a good football player.

Why don't you take a look at him as well?"

And they decided to, you know, allow me to take a visit up to West Point and-- What did you think when you first saw it?

I mean, I've been there.

It is--it is a vision.

I went up there and--and was certainly awed by the history and that didn't really intimidate me.

I was a--I had a paper route in high school.

My brother and I delivered probably 300 papers every morning.

So, you know, getting up early and just sort of the discipline of sport didn't seem so night and day for me.

I was only curious about whether they played football at the highest levels, which they--they said they did.

And so, I went there to show everybody else that they were wrong by not giving me a chance.

Yeah, somebody made a mistake and you were gonna prove it.

Yeah.

There wasn't a part of you that was moving towards service as a career.

You were a 5 and fly guy.

Oh, yeah.

What does 5 and fly mean?

5 and fly.

Upon graduation from any of the service academies, you have a--in general, you have a 5-year service obligation to, you know, pay back the government for your education.

And so, 5 years meant I was gonna do 5 and fly.

Meant I was--I was gonna transition from the military.

But then you came out and you went to Afghanistan, Bosnia, Iraq.

Well, that was all over my tenure.

I was commissioned in 1989.

So, pretty quickly out of the bat, the unit I was assigned to was deployed for Desert Shield, Desert Storm, and then that evolved into Desert Storm.

I'm a platoon leader of a 56-man artillery, 8-inch artillery platoon, and we're going off to war.

And--and, you know, I have this sort of noble feeling of, you know, I'm--this is-- this is the ultimate experience.

You know, this is what you trained for at West Point and now this is the ultimate kind of test.

This is the ultimate destiny.

And my assessment very quickly was there's no glory in war.

There's--when mankind resorts to this to resolve issues, and sometimes it's required.

It's necessary, but it's not glamorous.

There's nothing good out of it.

It's death and destruction.

I mean, the-- the Iraqi soldiers were-- were being sent to fight by their government, just like I was being sent by my government to--to expel them from another country.

And--and so, in some ways, we're in the middle.

How often do you allow yourself the thought of "What are we doing here?"?

I think as a--as a leader, there are your personal feelings.

I mean, there are some moments sometimes where you wonder if we're successful, you know.

Are we getting it done?

Are we--are we making progress?

But we have obligations as professionals, as leaders.

You know, we took an oath.

And our job is not to wonder or criticize.

You know, there's a time for that.

But when you're out there on--on the front lines, you gotta focus on-- on those around you.

In 2007, your life was saved by a 19-year-old who knew how to tie a tourniquet.

And you were on the way home from yet another memorial because people were dying around you.

Yep.

Many people per day.

3, 4 people a day.

In the month of May of 2007, 131 U.S. servicemembers would pay with their lives.

And I was heading back to my headquarters after attending a memorial service for two young men in a-- in our sister battalion from my brigade at Fort Riley.

For some reason, that day, it just stuck with me.

Like, I mean, what are we doing here?

Are we making progress?

But, you know, I'm--I'm--I'm in charge.

I gotta--I gotta put a good face in.

I gotta get after it every day.

And...that's when I was hit.

Man: Get up!

Get up!

Get up!

My vehicle, of course, kept going before it finally came to a stop.

And I rolled a few times before I came to a stop on my back.

And so, from--I go-- transitioned from being mad to realizing that this is serious.

I cannot get up.

I'm--I'm--I'm in bad shape.

And honestly, the last thing I said was, "God, I don't want to die here."

And I was out.

The vehicle following mine had the senior noncommissioned officer my-- that was part of my patrol.

First Sergeant Frederick Johnson.

He was the one that got to my vehicle first after it stopped and he was the one that recognized that I was missing.

Would find me about 100 meters from where my vehicle finally came to a stop.

I was already unconscious and, you know, lying in a pool of my blood.

He began to resuscitate me.

A young private named Eric Brown put the tourniquets on my legs and he did--he did an amazing job because the doctors that attended on me that night said, "Whoever--whoever put these tourniquets on your legs saved your life."

So, I would go through 129 pints of blood that night and I guess went into arrest 6 different times...

Which is essentially like dying.

Yeah.

When you finished all your surgeries, what was harder-- learning how to live in a changed body or learning how to be with it emotionally?

I would say it was emotional.

When I got out of the intensive care and I was in a regular ward room and for some weeks, I would kind of wake up every morning just wondering if it was this bad dream and was the rest of my body gonna be there?

Like, you know, like, you open your eyes wanting to see your legs there or something.

And these kinds of things leave a sort of residual imprint on your life, not just a physical imprint, but a--but a mental imprint.

An emotional imprint.

A spiritual imprint.

Learning to walk is a skill.

Learning to accept your body.

Learning to accept how you have to do things different.

That--that takes much more time.

That is much more difficult.

One of the big things is sort of acknowledging that, "A," you can't do this all by yourself.

You know, in order, my faith, my family, my friends, the mental health professionals, doctors, physical therapists, occupational therapists, prosthetists, dieticians, because your body's changed.

And why it's so difficult is because there is no straight path for any one person.

I mean, I was in the Army for 17 years when this happened to me.

I'd been married for 17 years.

I had kids.

I often would think, you know, what if I was 18 years old at the--you know, the beginning of my adult life, not married, wondering what-- what this life had in-- in summary.

So, there are different set of problems.

This question of how do you be successful in America?

How do you overcome these life-changing events, whether it's in war, whether it's in a car accident or walking across the street?

If the end result of your injuries is the same, you're still in the same place.

How's your mental health right now?

It's pretty good.

I have my days.

I mean, you just, like-- what else am I gonna have to deal with?

But then it was just like, all right.

You gotta live the day.

You gotta live the day.

You gotta live the day.

You have prosthetic legs.

I do.

But today, you're in a wheelchair.

Is it easier in some way to be in a wheelchair?

It's a different kind of mobility.

It works for me because I travel a lot with my camera and backpack and, you know, it's--it's really just a lot simpler for me to spin around and access my gear in my wheelchair.

Photography is extremely important for me, and so, it's the way I travel most of the time.

Tell me about your photography.

What do you like to photograph and why?

I like to photograph life.

Yeah.

It keeps me in the moment.

It keeps me present.

I'm not worried about the future.

I'm certainly not looking in the past with my camera.

It keeps me where I'm at.

That was one of the things that really allowed me to recover.

Being able to be present.

Many times I talk about my legs being gone.

They weren't coming back, so, there was no use putting energy into looking backwards.

Did you have to train yourself, though, to stop looking back?

I got there pretty fast.

I--I had no vision.

I had no imagination of-- of what my future had.

And so, all I could do was be where I was at.

And that started to really work for me.

And once I even started to get better and, I say, started to gain some momentum, I said, "I'm just going to be here.

I am not worried about tomorrow."

If anybody knew that tomorrow's not promised, I certainly knew it.

You have two Super Bowl rings.

Yep.

How'd you get 'em?

I had a West Point classmate and teammate, Mike Sullivan, class of '89, who happened to be the wide receivers coach for the New York Giants.

Like many of my friends, he had come to visit me in the hospital and he asked if I wanted to come to the game.

The Giants had started out that season zero and two and he thought that I might have something to say to the team.

Right before the game, I spoke to the--the Giants, and instead of sitting in the stands, they invited me and--on the sidelines.

So, I stayed with them on the sideline that game and they won that game, and that would be the first of 11 consecutive road victories that they had that season where I got a chance to address them the night before they played the undefeated New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLII.

So, that was the first of my two Super Bowl rings, both against the Patriots and from the Giants.

We have a funny little thing at "Tell Me More."

It's called Plus One, where we give you a chance to shout out someone who's been instrumental to your well-being or your thinking.

Who is your plus one?

My plus one is my bride of 34 years--Kim Gadson.

She has just absolutely been a rock.

I-- you know, I believe that's... why I'm here.

I've been talking for years about my story, but the part that still brings extreme emotion to me was, you know, not knowing whether you're gonna live and--and--and-- and talking to my boss.

My boss is, like, right there by my head.

I'm hearing the-- the medevac coming and they pick me and--pick me up and-- and I said, you know, "Please let Kim and my kids know I love 'em."

And--and--you know, there's sort of this-- there's sort of this peace and maybe there's a little realization that you might not make it home.

You just don't know it.

And--and that was--those were the last thoughts that I had.

Those are the last thoughts I had in Iraq.

And then I wouldn't wake up again until I was in Washington, D.C. at Walter Reed at least 7 to 10 days later.

My daughter's in ninth grade.

My son is in seventh grade.

You know, their mother's gotta tell them that I'm hurt.

Oh, my God.

I know what I've been through, but I know that I will never know what they went through.

So, after all this, you thought you were gonna lose them.

You got them.

You lost your legs.

You said, "I do not want to stop serving."

I say my rock bottom moment was probably about 3 months after I was wounded.

I just--I think I hit this point where I fundamentally just gave up.

Like, I just wanted to quit.

Just "Everybody, leave me alone.

Just do your thing and just don't bother with me."

That's where I was.

As I started to kind of look at my life, I'm like, "Well, why can't I soldier?"

You know, "Yeah, I can't run anymore, "but I can do everything else "and I'm gonna make you throw me out "'cause I don't want to quit.

I'm not giving up."

How were those years?

They were extremely rewarding.

I mean, I was kind of a person that was sought after across our entire military, you know, by civilian organizations.

I'm here with you today.

I mean, 16 years later, I'm still able to-- to share my journey.

When you have a purpose and you have a mission in life, then that motivates you.

It's self-motivating.

Yeah, I think about-- one of the answers maybe to the question of what does it take to make it in America is a sense of purpose.

And there are whole swaths of the population that, for any number of reasons, do not have much of a sense of purpose.

Right.

You know, a purpose is a passion.

And you mentioned earlier about "How hard was your recovery?"

and I'm like... What is hard?

That's a definition that we put on things emotionally to give ourself a reason to fail or not try.

And so, it is what it is.

And we just have to be careful about how we label things because when we put those labels on, we can sort of predict the outcome.

Now, I'm not saying they're not hard things, but that's all relative.

We as humans attach a lot of emotion to things that we don't necessarily need to.

There's a question that we've been circling with a few other guests as well, which is this relationship between agency or attitude or gumption, and then circumstance.

Dumb luck.

Bad luck.

Right.

And then some intervention.

You clearly have gobs of personal agency.

Can you talk about a circumstance that has been particularly beneficial or challenging?

And then could you also think about what kind of policy or social institution has changed the trajectory of your life?

Well, I would certainly say the-- my service in the military has changed the trajectory of my life.

You know, as I think about our military, 1948, Truman, as the Commander in Chief, integrated the military.

And that set forth a-- the progression of how our society started to integrate.

I mean, Jim Crow still existed while the military was integrated.

So, being a part of that organization that has that kind of history has certainly opened doors and--and avenues for me.

It's one of the few organizations I think is closest we have to having a true meritocracy.

I might argue that although it's a meritocracy, the--the level of effort and--and work that I have to put in compared to other peers might be harder.

But when I look at those things in hindsight, I'm truly grateful for 'em, because it's sort of what has built me to be where I'm at.

I mean, if that road wasn't as tough, that road wasn't as difficult, would I be able to speak with the kind of passion and purpose that--that I'm able to speak with now?

That steep road made for a lot of resilience.

A lot of times, people talk about resilience like it's a switch, like it's something you turn on and off.

And I argue it's really-- it's--it's simply our character.

How we take on life.

The spirit of, you know, am I a victim or am I a conqueror?

Am I gonna take this on or am I quit?

Is it hard?

Is it easy?

That's your character.

It is the essence of-- of how you live your life.

How would you describe the national character of America?

Wow.

The national character of America.

We're a bit fickle.

But I think the core of--of America is--is decency, is--is hard work.

We're at times distracted and--and myopic in our own worlds.

But I--I believe that under the right circumstances, in the right circumstances, we do rise up.

We do try to do what's right.

Are you ever mad at America?

I won't say mad.

You know, I don't like to get mad, but certainly disappointed.

Can you give me an example?

Um... the summer that George Floyd was-- was--was killed in front of the public.

And that's devastating.

But the part that's most disturbing to me was that a--a law official, someone who was-- took an oath to--to defend, um, not only did that, but he felt comfortable doing that.

He felt above the law.

In front of the world to see.

And there is a subtle message that that sent, that it was sending to everybody that was watching, that I can do what I want.

And that in itself was disappointing, you know.

They've had their day in court and--and we saw justice be done.

But I'm not sure if there were cameras out there that day that that justice would have happened.

It's interesting to think about what that would look like through the eyes of a 25-year serviceman like yourself who was inside of a structure that required that you do exactly as you were trained to do and that you never break rank or have strong emotions that are against the-- the sort of system.

Right.

I mean, as the United States' signatures to the Geneva Convention, there's the rules that govern warfare.

In my business, in that line of work, that's a war crime that you could go to trial for.

And so, the irony sometimes is that we protect the Constitution that allows this behavior to take place.

There are some ironies for sure.

All right.

So, are you ready for the "Tell Me More" speed round?

I'm ready for the "Tell Me More" speed round.

What's your first concert?

The Cars.

Oh, nice.

What's the best live performance of any kind you've ever seen?

ELO.

What was your first paying job?

Newspaper boy.

What's the last book that blew you away?

"Four Hundred Souls: 1619-2019."

If your high school did superlatives, what would you have been most likely to become?

I actually received the citizenship award.

Who's your favorite celebrity crush?

Vanessa Williams.

What do you wish you had more time to do?

Photography.

What is your go-to mantra for hard times?

Be present, be your best, be at peace.

If your mother wrote a book about you, what would it be called?

I can't say it... Ha!

What if you could?

What was it?

"God damn."

I thought that was my-- I thought--you know, my initials are GDG, right?

So, I thought for the first 5 years of my life, I thought my name was "God damn."

No, that's a joke.

[Laughs] If you could say 4 words to anyone, who would you address and what would you say?

I would say, "I love you, Kim" to my wife.

Yeah.

I can't thank you enough.

Truly been an honor to be with you.

Thank you, Kelly.

This was fun.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Here are my takeaways from my conversation with Greg Gadson.

One, a great spouse will take you a long way.

Two, troop preparation is a matter to be taken most seriously.

And number 3, part of what makes life worth living is finding your purpose and having the opportunity to pursue it passionately.

♪ ♪

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