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He found out Budulan had a sandwich in his rear wheelchair pouch but hadn’t eaten all day because he couldn’t reach it.

“I’m a human being and thought this can happen to anybody,” he said one day this week. “There I am all dressed up in a suit feeding this guy.”

Not long after, Rad, a business consultant who works internationally, visited Budulan’s apartment on York Street, where he needed daily help just to get in and out of bed, or prepare a meal. A friendship was forged. It’s how “Genie” rolled.

“I committed myself to go and see him for one hour a day, if only to help with his meds,” said Rad, one of a circle of friends who helped Budulan with daily living.

I met Budulan in 2007 and heard much of his life story. It was both admirable and harrowing. After emigrating from Romania in 1990, he was building a bungalow on a 60-acre farm outside Alfred, about 70 kilometres east of downtown, for his wife and three children. He wanted to farm.

On Aug. 4, 1996, a rainy day, he was working on the roof. The ladder slipped, he fell and landed on his back, severing his spinal cord. His old life, the old dreams, were over.

The adjustment was not smooth, to the point he didn’t want to go on. Now on his own, on June 28, 1999, he decided he’d had enough. He positioned his chair near the edge of the Rideau Canal, on the east side, behind the Conference Centre, and just accelerated, tumbling into the water.

I heard this story with a sense of disbelief. But sure enough, an employee of Paul’s Boat Lines confirmed he and another worker jumped into the water and, unable to unstrap Genie, lifted the chair just high enough so his head was above water. He survived, resuming his life on the street.