Superman lives in Mansfield. He floats, he flies, he defies gravity and all without a cape. He is ret. Cpl. Jonathan Merchant, an outstanding role model and charming man who served his nation, including a tour in the volatile Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1999. He returned safely home only to be paralyzed in a car accident just three months later.

While riding as a passenger, his neck was broken when the driver lost control of the vehicle. Eventually, the U.S. Army sent Jonathan to the Long Beach V.A. (Veterans Administration) medical facility in California where he remained for nine months for what is termed acute rehabilitation.

In the following year, he lived with family until he realized he simply could not afford the cost of living. When he learned of a Dr. Goetz, a highly reputable doctor at the Dallas VA who specialized in spinal cord injury but was also paralyzed, Jonathan moved to Texas.

Well before his accident, Jonathan had become intrigued with the competitive sport of triathlon. The intense endurance race consists of a 2.4-mile swim followed immediately by a 112-mile bike ride and then a 26.2-mile marathon. Interestingly, Jonathan recalled watching the Ironman, the annual race held in Hawaii noted for its particularly grueling hills and pace, when he saw former Navy Seal Carlos Moleda competing despite his own paralysis.

“That image,” Jonathan said, “stayed with me.” But it was not until 2002, when a friend decided to throw his buddy into the water to see if Jonathan could swim that he truly considered competitive racing. That was when Clark Kent turned into Superman. “I felt free,” Jonathan smiled at the memory. “I realized I could do it.”

From that moment on, he channeled all his energy toward swimming and working out. He began competing in 25-meter races in the pool but quickly succeeded at the 100-meter medley races.

Already a star on YouTube, Jonathan has been setting records and putting in incredible performances as a representative for the Paralyzed Veterans of America. In fact, it was last year when Jonathan was unable to compete at the annual Wheelchair Games, that there was most assuredly a collective sigh amongst the other competitors as Jonathan dominated the events of 100-meter medley swim, hand cycling as well as the 1500-, 800- and 400-meter sprints. “They only allow athletes to compete in five events,” Jonathan said forlornly. If he had it his way, he would enter every event.

Nothing seems to stop him. During his very first competition and the first time he’d ever been in the ocean since his accident, a mix-up left him without a guide. Even the fully mobile athletes have a guide since the oceanic waters can sometimes be tricky. But Jonathan never missed a beat, diving into the open waters and finished out his first half triathlon. Because Jonathan also lacks any dexterity in his hands, a result of the accident, how he is able to grip or hold things can make a critical difference in competition.

With the bang of the gun, while all the other athletes run and dive into the water, Jonathans entry is less graceful. After a 1.2 mile swim, while the other competitors are scrambling onto the beach, tearing their wetsuits away from their bodies, Jonathan must readjust himself back into his wheelchair, wheel himself up to the changing station and, with the help of his trainer, wriggle out of the suit and transfer into his hand cycle. With up to six minutes already lost, he then must use a hand crank for the 56-mile trek. The combination of pedaling his 6’3” and 190 pound frame inside the 35-pound cycle makes this the most difficult part of the race and it is during this stretch that says so very much about who Jonathan is. While many mobile cyclists can and do get off their bikes to walk up the steep hills, Jonathan has no such luxury. Legally, he is allowed to have someone push him but he refuses. The irony is, only Jonathan has ever really pushed Jonathan.

Then, 56 grueling miles later, Jonathan must again transfer from his hand cycle to his regular chair to readjust and once more transition into his track chair for the last 13.1-miles of the race.

But just like the comic hero, the work of this superman is never done. When a young boy he knew was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, it was Jonathan who entered a race in Mobile, Alabama so that he might pull both Malic and his sister, Alana (an extra 90 pounds) behind his cycle. “I wanted to set an example,” said Jonathan, hoping to show both Malic and his family that all things are possible.

Whoever said Superman needed a cape anyway?