Edgewood grad in fast lane of business world

For the first few minutes you’re around John Harris, it’s difficult not to stare at his wheelchair, his fragile frame and the large round glasses that dominate his face.

But the longer you talk to him, the more you realize his physical disability doesn’t define his life. Your attention swings away from what Harris apparently can’t do, and you suddenly appreciate what he can do.

Harris, 35, was born with osteogenesis imperfecta, a congenital disorder that makes his bones as brittle as a teen-ager’s ego. Growing up in Trenton, he once broke a bone in his upper arm by reaching to scratch his back.

His mother, Nancy Harris, said when John was born "relatively few of his bones were spared."

While Harris’ condition doesn’t allow him to drive, it hasn’t kept him out of the high-speed lane in the business world. Since graduating from Edgewood High School in 1983, Harris has made fast – almost unbelievable, really – advancements with his career.

He has graduated from college, worked for a top advertising firm in Cincinnati and in 1996, brought his childhood dream of owning a business to life when he founded ViewSource Media in Springdale, 20 miles south of Middletown.

"There probably are people out there who thought I wouldn’t be able to do much with my life," said Harris, chief executive officer at ViewSource.

Those people were wrong.

In fact, Harris considers his bone disorder more of a hindrance than a handicap. He’s 3 feet tall and weighs 40 pounds, so his condition limited his career choices – he jokingly mentions not being able to play football or dig ditches – but it hasn’t slowed him in the marketing business.

Since he founded ViewSource Media four years ago, the company has grown by more than 400 percent in revenue and staff each year. Last year, sales reached $1 million, an all-time high. Some of his clients include Magnode in Trenton, Mercy Health Partners and Graeter’s Ice Cream.

And he doesn’t sound satisfied.

"You can never rest in this business," he said. "It doesn’t take long to fall."

In February, Harris announced his goals for this year: a 500 percent sales increase with employment expected to triple to 36 by January 2001.

He credits some of his success to his bone disorder. While his friends were concentrating on sports and other outdoor activities, Harris was fine-tuning his academics and his artistic talents. He was more brains than brawn.

"My mom always told me that I’d be one of those guys who would have to use my mind," he said.

"That’s exactly what I told him," said his mother, who still lives at 402 West Place, Trenton.

But that didn’t mean Harris spent his childhood in a bubble, either. Instead of protecting her son, she encouraged him to play with the neighborhood kids. She wanted a "normal life" for her son, she said.

"I knew his bones were going to break," she said. "It was just a matter of where."

"That attitude shaped me," he said. "She took chances with me."

She also was an advocate for her son to be educated in a public school system with his able-bodied friends. Harris attended kindergarten at Doty House (now Abilities First), then was allowed to transfer to the Edgewood School District on a trial basis.

Throughout her son’s 12 years of schooling, Nancy Harris either volunteered or worked in the schools’ offices. Since the school buildings were not wheelchair-accessible at the time, she carried him from classroom to classroom. When Harris graduated from Edgewood, he received his diploma while in his mother’s arms.

There is no love like a mother’s.

She was asked what’s been her proudest moment as a parent: her son’s high school graduation, college graduation or the day he opened his business?

Several seconds later, after composing herself, she responded quietly: "That’s hard to say…everything he does is a great accomplishment."

His achievements are being recognized. Harris’ career has included numerous awards for print and interactive media, including a 1992 Addy award from the American Advertising Federation and he was a finalist in the 2000 Cincinnati Ernst & Young "Entrepreneur of the Year" competition.

Of course, there were plenty of skeptics along the way. And it came from the most unlikely sources, he said. While he applauded his friends for providing a neighborhood that afforded him friendship without prejudice toward his handicap, the same can’t be said for the business community.

One competitor told him: "You’re never going to make it out here. It’s a lion’s den and you’ll be eaten."

Then there was the time when he was a finalist for a job. During an interview with 20 executives, someone asked him: "How do you go to the bathroom?"

Harris smiles about that one now.

"People in the business world can be cruel," he said.

He was asked whether he ever lies in bed, thinks about the limitations his disability puts on his life and asks, "Why me?"

"I wasn’t raised that way," he said. "We never questioned things like that. Instead of asking, ‘Why me?’ I should be asking, ‘Why not me?’ This had to happen to somebody, and the way I look at it, it might as well be me."


Originally published August 1, 2000 in The Middletown (Ohio) Journal.