Forty-six-year-old Sam Sullivan has learned the hard way how to get things done. Whether it's rallying the city of Vancouver into getting the bid for the 2010 Winter Olympics, or simply figuring out how to wave a huge flag from the side of his wheelchair, he's the can-do mayor … who happens to be a quadriplegic. Sullivan has lifted himself from dark days on welfare, continues to struggle with pain every day, and has learned the humbling lesson that success means depending on other people, and in turn realizing how much they want to contribute to his success.

"A common comment I've heard from media from around the world is that it is so unusual to find a mayor of a major city who is a quadriplegic. But this is a city like no other. It is so tolerant and open-minded," Sullivan said. "To have a mayor like me is quite a statement about the citizens of the city. They have looked beyond my disability to my abilities."

An electrified world got a full view of the triumph and tragedy that is Sullivan's life when he successfully managed the handover of the Olympic flag on the last night of the 2006 games in Torino, Italy.

It was a lump-in-the-throat moment that was 27 struggling years in the making.

At the age of 19, Sullivan was skiing in Vancouver with friends. They were taking turns skiing between each other's legs. It was Sullivan's turn. He was going fast. Too fast. He crashed into his friend, tumbled, and broke his neck between the fourth and fifth vertebrae, below his brain stem.

Sullivan has been confined to a wheelchair ever since. He has no use of his fingers, his triceps, or his legs. It helps a lot that he does have some use of his biceps.

After the accident, he says he "checked out" for seven years, struggling with pain, depression, and thoughts of suicide.

"I had a very stark decision to make. Either I was going to check out altogether or change things dramatically," he recalls now. "Slowly, I started to set modest, achievable goals for myself. The first one was to learn to get my shoes and socks on by myself. When I was able to do that I set another and another and another. One day I looked around," he concludes, only half joking, "and I was the mayor."

When the Ordinary Becomes Extraordinary

Sullivan's big moment at Torino was typical of his nothing-is-easy life. He faced what is ordinarily a simple ceremonial task: The mayor of the city in which the games are being held hands over a giant Olympic flag to the mayor of the next Winter Olympics destination, who waves it. For Sullivan, who has only the most minimal use of his hands, grabbing a flag and waving it seemed to be out of the question.

"There was an assumption made by some that I would have someone fly the flag for me," he recounts. "I was quite opposed to that. This wouldn't represent what me or my city stands for; the inclusion of everyone."

Sullivan has become nothing if not a supreme problem-solver who knows who to turn to in a predicament. He called on a group he helped start, the Tetra Society of North America, volunteer engineers who create assistive devices to help disabled people. They worked with city engineers to design a custom-made steel holster to attach to the side of Sullivan's wheelchair. But it wasn't as easy as just that. This is a huge flag - more than 19 square feet with a 16-foot pole - and Sullivan also had the task of waving it four times.

"I secretly practiced waving it in parking lots in the middle of the night. The flag is so large and the pole so tall I had to use a parking lot," said Sullivan. "I tested waving it in variable winds. Although I felt prepared, I was kind of anxious up to the moment. You never know what can happen. When you have a billion people watching you, there's going to be some anxiety."

That anxiety increased when he watched the mayor of Torino struggle with the flag. But for Sullivan's part, it went off without a hitch. The flag was put in the holster, he held it with one of his hands, and he spun his wheelchair around four times to wave it.

Sullivan's on-screen courage coursed across the globe like the wind rippling through that flag. He has been swamped with letters: many from those with disabilities, others who have asked him to speak at their conventions, and all of whom were inspired by his example.

As he spun his wheelchair, waving that huge Olympics flag, Sullivan remembers, "I thought about the thousands who have worked so hard to bring the Olympics and Paralympics to Vancouver."

To hear him talk at length, thinking of others seems to have brought about the turning point in his life.

Sullivan's Rebirth

"I spent seven years on welfare, in social housing. I went through a rough time of it. When I started putting my energies into volunteering for community groups I started thinking about others and not my own problems. I found it very liberating. It was like I was reborn," he explained.

He refers to these as his lean years. During the seventh year, he decided it was time to turn his life around. "Figuratively, I killed the old Sam," he said. "It was time for me to start anew."

Easier said than done. "I showered, made my breakfast, got dressed, got my shoes and socks on, and prepared for the day. I had a manual wheelchair then that I could barely wheel. I made it to my bank to cash my welfare check and when I got there, the shopkeeper was turning the key in the door, closing up for the day," he recalled. Reality hit him, hard: It had taken him an entire day to get ready.

"By the time I was ready to start my day, most of the world was closing up," he recalled. "I realized I had to change things drastically. All of my energy would have to be devoted to and focused on being productive."

It was obvious to him that life was going to mean hard work, all the time. "I work really hard, so hard until I'm completely exhausted. Then I work even harder. That's the difference between getting somewhere and not."

All About Attitude

While trying to figure out how he could live productively with his disability, he turned to the Canadian Paraplegic Association for help. He volunteered to interview and write articles about successful disabled people. "I wanted to learn how they accomplished so much. Coming from the East Side of Vancouver, the poorer working-class section of the city, I didn't have many connections. I assumed these successful people attributed their success to advantages they had. Boy, was I wrong. I concluded it was their attitudes that made the key difference. I learned that those who achieve a lot expect a lot, maybe too much," he said.

With high expectations must come stoicism. Not even sleep comes easy for someone who is a quadriplegic. After about three hours lying in the same position, Sullivan says pain shoots through his body. He can't roll over like an able-bodied person can. "I get really uncomfortable after a few hours lying in one place. I have to turn over, which is quite a process. It is equivalent to doing 20 pushups."

His office calls him at about 7 a.m. and he will dictate any letters or ideas he needs recorded. His assistant does his e-mailings. It takes him a couple hours to get ready. But he uses even that time for one of his "loves," learning. As he dresses or undresses, he watches a lecture series from the Teaching Company on subjects from math, calculus, and science, to philosophy, and music. When he became mayor, he taught himself to read and speak Cantonese. In preparation for his trip to Italy, he taught himself Italian.

Take Life Mogul-by-Mogul

Sullivan is in a committed relationship with Lynn Zanatta, a woman he's known since elementary school. But even in that relationship, he is adamant about doing things himself. He drives his own car with special hand pedals. For civic business, he has a driver who operates a specially fitted van. "It is important to me that I do as much myself that I can. What amazes me the most is with only a few muscles in my shoulders and arms I can live independently. Intellectually, I can't grasp how I do it. It's like being on the top of a very steep hill. If you look at the hill from the top down, you're going to say I can't do it. If you look at it mogul-by-mogul you'll do it. This is the same with any problem. You'll be successful if you break it down into smaller problems." For recreation, his passion is sailing. And even then, he can't help helping: Sullivan was instrumental in developing the Martin 16, a sailboat that allows people with severe disabilities to sail independently using their mouth. He also helped establish the Disabled Sailing Association of British Columbia. He has found an apt sailing metaphor to describe his life: "I am always intrigued that I use the wind that is going the wrong way to get me where I want to go."

Sullivan was elected mayor in November after 12 years as a city councilor. He said it was a hard-fought, tight election. He is a member of the Non-Partisan Association, considered by many to be the conservative party in British Columbia although his politics have crossed all kinds of lines. His term expires in 2008 and he hasn't decided if he will seek another term that would enable him to preside during the 2010 Games. "Right now I am focused on the job at hand. When the time comes, I will see what the people think, whether they feel I have done a good job and should run again. Then I will decide," he said.

 "It's my desire to recognize the Paralympic athletes as much as we value our Olympic athletes. That symbolizes what Vancouver is all about: inclusion, a place where all contributions are welcome," he said. "More than half of all our citizens came from somewhere else. When the world comes in 2010, it will find that the world is already here."

Andrea Doyle is Convene's senior writer. The Leading by Example series is sponsored by the Canadian Tourism Commission. Visit its Web site at www.CanadaMeetings.com.