Plasma beams and metal dreams

ATHOL - It's difficult to discern which is brighter - the orange sparks that spray from Keith Williams' plasma beam striking a sheet of metal, or the brilliant twinkle in his eyes as he talks about his passion for metalworking.

After becoming disabled at the tender age of 17 and spending years struggling to work or depending on Social Security Disability, the Athol resident has a new lease on life after completing an employment opportunity program through the Idaho Division of Vocational Rehabilitation.

"I needed to find something that I could make a living at that I could support myself with, and have pride," said Williams, now 47. "I love doing metal, and I can do just about anything you can think of; I love making stuff. And I make good money at it."

Williams' success story begins with tragedy. As a youngster, he lived with his aunt and uncle on 170 acres in the Colorado mountains.

"I lived with a bunch of hippies back then," he recalled, explaining that his uncle and many of his uncle's friends were Vietnam veterans who shared their field knowledge and survival techniques with him.

Little did he know those skills would save his life.

"One morning, I got up and decided to go to another cabin and it was about a mile hike - and a blizzard dropped in over the Continental Divide, and I got snow-blind. I couldn't see," he said. "I couldn't see what was up or own. I got vertigo."

Williams said he dug a snow cave, where he sat for 18 hours in temperatures as low as 60 degrees below zero.

"My eyes froze over. When I blinked, my eyelids would hang up on my eyes," he said, clearly recalling every detail. "I pulled my shoes off to feel my feet because they hurt so bad, and that's when I found loose things in the end of my socks, which were my toes."

His feet swelled to the same size as his boots and ice crept into blisters that formed beneath his skin. He couldn't get his feet back into his boots, so he pulled his legs as close to himself as possible while he waited.

"I heard snowmobiles coming, and I was almost dead. It was like, 'OK, you either stand up now and let them know you're here, or just...'" He paused. "I was so tired."

He burst from the snow and was rescued by snowmobilers, but he lost several toes and spent a few years in a wheelchair.

"When I was in a wheelchair when I first got out of the hospital, they told me I'd never walk again," he said. Seven toes were amputated and doctors cut the tendons on the bottoms of his feet to keep them from curling.

"I now have just one toe on my right foot and I'm doing the 'hang loose' on my left, but I play a mean game of soccer," he said with a playful smile. "I water them every day; they might grow back."

He beat the odds by walking again, but this traumatizing event left him crippled, easily taken off balance and in constant pain. He attempted different jobs, but couldn't maintain work because of his disability. He ultimately had to accept government assistance.

"I fall down a lot," he said. "I have good days and I have bad days, you know. I do what I can do."

Then he discovered vocational rehab for the disabled.

Williams said he first worked with the department eight years ago when managing a mobile home park, but decided to give it another whirl about a year ago to improve his quality of life.

"The programs are out there for the disabled," he said. "You have to be willing to go down there and go through their program. Most of the people that I was down there with were people that had disabilities, and some people have bad disabilities, and they'll find them jobs."

He applied to build a one-of-a-kind computer numerical control (CNC) machining-capable truck for metalworking, which would allow him to work around his disability while integrating his love of metal art. He presented his innovative idea to vocational rehab officials.

"I had to put everything together, sit in front of a board of directors, I had to show them my artwork and explain to them why I thought my business would do well," he said. "They said, 'OK, we believe that you can do this.'"

Williams went through the program, which included plenty of paperwork, writing a business plan, creating projections for the next three years and taking business courses at North Idaho College. He showed a slideshow of his artwork and brought in physical pieces for counselors to examine. Once he completed all of the necessary steps, he was given the green light and vouchers to purchase supplies to build his truck. All together, he said, not including schooling, vocational rehab covered $26,000 for him to achieve his dreams.

"If I did not make it and I did all of this and I couldn't cut it or I didn't finish, they'd get everything back," he said.

But they didn't get everything back. He spent all last winter building his custom mobile CNC unit in an old Frito Lay truck he calls "Frita." His natural tinkering abilities and understanding of carpentry, mechanics and electrical work propelled his process. Finally the day came when he had to prove to vocational rehab that his plan was worthy. They asked him what his "big event" would be.

"I go, I'm going big - I'm going to Sturgis," he said. "I'm going to go for it."

Last August, Williams; his daughter, Richelle, 25; and his granddaughter, Lily, 4; took a trip to South Dakota where his business, Bone Daddy Metals, sailed through its test flight. Bikers flocked to his booth to have custom metal items created right then and there. Richelle even developed a program where her dad can take pictures of people, scan them and create masterpieces in just minutes. His CNC truck proved a success, and he estimated he made about $100 per hour in the 14 days they spent at the biker rally.

"It's just been a whirlwind," Williams said. "I tell people and disabled people this all the time: There's programs out there for you. Go for it, just go for your dream. You have to though, really figure out what you really want to do. A lot of people get into a program, and at (vocational rehab) probably 100 people apply, probably only three make it, because they get into it and they figure it's more than what they can do, or they didn't really want to do that, they're just not sure. You have to figure out what you really want to do."

Gary Hamilton, the regional manager of the vocational rehab office in Coeur d'Alene, said Williams is just one of nearly 2,000 people who went through a rehab program last year and experienced success.

"For me, it is very satisfying and inspirational to see people come in here that have had some bad luck, mostly out of their control, that may have been successful in the past and have lost their independence, their home or families, and we've been able to help them get back into the community," Hamilton said. "That's great for all of us."

Visit Bone Daddy Metals on Facebook under "Bone Daddy Custom1" or learn more about vocational rehab programs at www.vr.idaho.gov.