Man Paralyzed At 29: 'I Crawled Out From My Own Personal Hell'

HAMPTON BAYS, NY — The photography displayed at art exhibits and craft fairs in the Hamptons this summer depicted glorious natural vistas, captured by an artist with a deep love of the outdoors and the natural environment.

But the story of his journey is one of an invincible spirit and inner grit: The artist, Matt Raynor of Hampton Bays, was paralyzed after a diving accident in Southampton in 2019, when he was just 29 years old — and for Raynor, photography has been a literal lifeline from the darkest depths.

Now he has hard-won wisdom to impart: "Get out there and try to capture something beautiful. Share it. Do it however you can."

Speaking to Patch, Raynor opened up about his life before and after the accident and explained how finding photography in his new life, framed by unthinkable circumstances, saved him.

Before his accident, Raynor lived for his life as a commercial fisherman on the water. "The water has always served as my holy place. A place of peace and solitude, far from the anxieties of life. Regardless of how rigorous the work could get, life as a waterman was an unabated source of calm for me," he said.

Deep-sea fishing, along with surfing and spearfishing, satisfied his yearnings for adventure.

"I've always been a risk-taker and thrill-seeker," he said. It was a coping mechanism for my own demons and character flaws. The likes of such we all face."

The adrenaline of fishing around the clock in a storm and subsequent paycheck filled him with delight; it was an occupation that he loved, one that afforded him the freedom to travel, he said.

"Exploring new lands and cultures was just as delightful as my sea excursions," Raynor reflected.

The peace and freedom of the open sea was something he had been searching for since he was a child, Raynor said.

The work was extremely strenuous, mentally and physically. On one trip he worked for 36 hours straight, he said.

When he turned 27, Raynor said life slowed down a bit.

He still loved fishing, traveling, and thrill-seeking. In the winter of 2019, he went offshore for three weeks to come in and work three weeks on his bay scallop boat, then headed back offshore again for another three weeks. By the end, he had severe tendonitis.

To ease the pain, he would dive at Towd Point in North Sea, Southampton.

And then came the day that changed everything.

"One morning I did several dives and on the last one, I smacked my head. The next thing I know I am staring through the frigid, emerald-blue, water completely paralyzed. Time slowed; I felt as if I was in a waiting room," Raynor said.

His whole life presented itself, from start to finish, in its entirety, he remembered.

"And I was happy. If this was where my clock resurfaced and hit zero, I was fine with it. I felt I had lived a full life — short but rich with adventure and exploration. I was even content with my many silly and stupid misadventures," he said. "My only regret was not being able to have a child and see them grow. I had a moment of complete acceptance and then, suddenly, the lights went out. "

Next, Raynor said he woke up staring at his close friend Jerome Lucanis' face on the beach. Lucanis had swum out and pulled him to shore.

"He told me my eyes were wide open; I was motionless and my lips were blue. He had to do CPR. So much for my clock hitting zero. Back from the dead. God, the universe, Buddha, whatever you wanna call it, has a sense of humor. Definitely no more running."

After his "extraordinary spiritual experience on that beach," Raynor spent three months in the hospital.

"Unfortunately, I never recovered much," he said.

When he returned, he couldn't take care of himself at all and he moved back in with his mother.

"I couldn't move or feel 85 percent of my body. If we all have our own personal hell — I’ve lived mine," Raynor said. "And it's worrying every day if you’re going to have someone to help you. To get you out of bed, use the toilet, get dressed, eat — everything."

His injuries resulted in the paralysis of his upper chest through his lower extremities; he now has limited control of his arms and hands.

Through complications and red tape, Raynor was left without a professional caretaker.

"I felt truly helpless — as if my life was just a favor," Raynor said. "This went on for months until there was a breaking point. I caught a horrendous urinary tract infection. I had a fever of 106 degrees for two days; I almost went septic."

My mother tore her bicep while he was in the hospital, and when he returned home, there was no one to take care of him, Raynor remembered.

"Where would I end up? 29 in a nursing home? Was this the life that I wanted to live?" he asked. "Only two options presented themselves. Self-destruction or do my best to live again — however difficult — and to do it in any way possible."

Then, things turned around.

Raynor's friend Bridget LeRoy organized a fundraiser to help Raynor hire a caretaker.

Raynor's story is one of courage, perseverance — and an abiding belief that out of the most unthinkable circumstances, hope and beauty can be born.

Eventually, the caretaker situation was resolved — and Raynor began to look ahead. "I slowly crawled out from my own personal hell. My concerns shifted more from just surviving to what can I do with my life? I know full well what I can't — but what about the possibilities?"

With his indomitable spirit and fierce inner will, as well as some self-professed "clever innovation," Raynor discovered that he could operate a drone and pick up his old hobby of photography.

"While this was difficult at first, I continued to get better at it," He said. Next, I had to figure out how to use a computer. Eventually, I became proficient with both. The use of a computer opened up an entire world. And just like that, I had direction. And a purpose."

Now, Rayor exhibits his work at spaces, art shows, and festivals on the East End; he had an exhibit at the Southampton Cultural Center in November and a presentation at the Parrish Art Museum; he also exhibited his work at the Maritime Festival in Greenport, HarborFest in Sag Harbor and at farmers' market in Westhampton Beach.

His work can be viewed and purchased on his website, Matt Raynor Photography here. Through his business, Paralyzed Production, he also offers services in fine art photography, as licensed drone pilot, in real estate and in video.

In July, after displaying his art, Raynor described the experience on Facebook, describing it as a "real roller coaster. The logistics of displaying art as a quadriplegic at an outside weekend event is complicated, to say the least. It almost seems like a luxury to be even capable of attending these events as the previous summers I was struggling with some of the most basic things. And don't get me wrong, in a blink of an eye, I could be right back there."

He added that as his main goal is to be self-sustaining, he was happy by the way his art has been received by strangers.

Still, during the summer events, he needed to spend quite a bit of time in his van with the air conditioning on to avoid getting a fever.

"During these times people who have no inkling of who I am or what I've been through have shown a strong interest in my artistic and endeavors," he wrote. "For me, that says a lot about the art itself, as its own entity. People like it. They enjoy and want to take home my artistic perspective of the world. This, without having any idea that I couldn't feed myself two years ago. As a chronic sufferer of low self-esteem — this fact, hard as stone, does wonders."

To make a donation toward Raynor and his ongoing care, including a new heating system that he needs to help with his nerve damage, as well as a trip to The Shepherd Center, in Atlanta, which, he said, is"the mecca for spinal cord injury recovery," click here.