Hoisted from the back seat of a red pickup into his black metal wheelchair, 15-year-old Justin Harris rolled into his dad''s Springfield Party Tree Rental store.

His dad, Tony, pushed his chair, and his German shepherd, Tun Tun, charged ahead proudly as his mascot and bodyguard. Tony parked the wheelchair in his office, lifted Justin from his chair and laid him on a black mat propped on metal bars.

With effort, Justin sat up.

"Ready?" Tony asked.

"Not really," Justin replied in a half-serious tone.

Justin grasped his dad''s hands and hoisted himself to his Nike-clad feet with a grimace of pain on his face.

It takes every bit of strength Justin can muster to stand, but he does it on his own, using his father only for a base of support.

A little more than a year ago, Justin was ranked 10th nationally in BMX racing. He traveled around the country pursuing his passion of flying over hills at speeds of 25 mph on a bike and was preparing for the National Bicycle League Grand National competition in Louisville, Ky.

Then, on Aug. 25, 2002, just before he was to begin his freshman year at Lanphier High School, Justin''s world fell apart when he was competing at Riverside Park.

He won his first race and was warming up for the second.

The 14-year-old rode his bike over the smaller of two hills and prepared to make it over the second hill, but his front tire hit it and flipped his bike over.

"I remember it - it was just so fast," Justin said. "I remember everything."

"I didn''t think I was going to live," he said.

Neither did his doctors, at first. Justin had broken his third and fifth vertebrae and shattered his fourth. The damage was so high up that he had difficulty breathing.

"The way he was laying there, I just knew it wasn''t a good deal," Tony said.

Justin spent 16 days in St. John''s Hospital, 14 of them on a respirator and 15 on a feeding tube.

After Justin''s accident, doctors told him he would never be able to eat or breathe again on his own. Lack of movement would be especially dangerous for Justin, who has suffered from diabetes since he was 4.

Justin knew he couldn''t listen to the prognosis.

As soon as he could talk again, about two hours after the accident, he told his doctors that he would recover, and he wouldn''t give up trying.

"I''m too young," Justin said as he looked up from the floor with his arms

crossed, his head shaved and small metal hoops in both earlobes. "I''ve got my whole life ahead of me still."

His father, Tony, believed in him, too. He was willing to make any sacrifice for Justin to recover. "I just had the feeling and I know that we''re not going to quit," Tony said.

"We''ll take him anywhere. We''ll sell this place (Party Tree Rental), cars, whatever it takes," he said.

But he hasn''t had to do any of that. Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis offered the top-notch facilities Justin needed for rehab. Insurance paid most of the costs.

Justin moved from St. John''s to Barnes-Jewish, where he stayed for two months. After he was released, he traveled to Barnes-Jewish four to five days a week for four months to work on rehab.

"When I was in there for just, like, three weeks I could move my foot," Justin said.

Now, he can move his arms, fingers and legs, too. He eats on his own, writes,plays the guitar, peddles a stationary bike, does arm curls with five-pound weights and, as of recently, stands.

To facilitate his recovery, Justin''s family set up the house as a rehab center. Justin works every muscle every day, using weights, bands and specialized equipment with electrodes that were used to move his muscles for him. Now, he moves them on his own.

"He''s so disciplined," Tony said of his son''s stamina in keeping up with workouts.

"Even picking up a fork is hard for him," he said. "But he does it again and again and again."

Justin''s life has changed dramatically since the accident.

He used to bounce from one activity to the next, whether it was strumming the guitar with his music teacher, playing basketball with a priest, lifting weights with a football coach or socializing with his many friends.

Now, Justin''s daily routine is slower and more disciplined. Instead of going

out with his friends, they usually stop by his house to visit him. And instead of attending Lanphier High School like all of his friends, he has to be tutored, usually at Party Tree Rental.

"You can''t just get up and go whenever," Justin said.

"It sucks," he said with a faint smile.

But Justin said he never becomes discouraged. He has learned to appreciate life more and to not "grow up too fast."

"He''s a better person now - more caring and relaxed," Tony said.

Neither Tony nor Justin shows resentment about Justin''s situation. Instead, they''re optimistic about the future.

"Everybody told me, ''Why would God let this happen to you?''" Justin said.

"God didn''t let this happen to me. I did this myself."

Justin plans to race again and says by next year he''ll be competing at the Grand National that he has missed the past two years. Even after the accident, he is not afraid to go back to BMX.

"It''s what I''m good at," he said.

Tony doesn''t want Justin to get involved in BMX again. He said accidents like Justin''s should raise awareness about the need for control of the sport on behalf of the National Bicycle League.

But when Justin talks about racing in the future, Tony just sits back and smiles. He has a lot of confidence in his son''s progress, too.

"I know by next year he''ll walk," Tony said.

The more he improves, Justin said, the more he wants to "just stay up and go." But he realizes that his progress will be slow.

"I want to go to prom," Justin said. "I want to walk up to my graduation. I just told myself I can''t just sit in my chair and miss out on all that stuff."