Inspiration and Nick Ackerman are synonymous.

At the 2001 NCAA Division III Wrestling Championships, Ackerman produced one of those moments in sports that everyone in attendance will remember for a lifetime.

His 13-11 victory in the finals of the 174-pound weight division over defending national champion Nick Slack of Augsburg College was a Cinderella story in itself.

Throw in the fact that Slack had a 60-match winning streak — and that Ackerman competed without the use of his lower legs, which were amputated below the knees at the age of 18 months to stop an aggressive form of bacterial meningitis — and you have one of the Top 25 Defining Moments in the 100-year history of the NCAA.

It certainly was a moment that represented the type of character inherent in student-athletes.

Ackerman’s accomplishment drew a standing ovation from the 3,000 spectators in the stands. The cheering continued when the Simpson College student-athlete was named the tournament’s most outstanding wrestler.

“I’ve talked with many of the coaches who are veterans of 20 or 30 years in wrestling, and they wrote notes saying they had never seen anything like that,” said Simpson coach Ron Peterson. “It was the greatest moment they have ever enjoyed in the sport of wrestling. I don’t know how long the standing ovations lasted. It was really emotional.”

One of Ackerman’s most vivid memories from the experience came when he looked into the crowd and saw fans of rival institutions applauding.

“I beat a guy from Loras College, 2-1, in the quarterfinals. I had lost to him twice that year,” said Ackerman, who was 96-41 in his college career. “He beat me once in the conference finals and in the conference duals. After I beat him, I had the whole Loras crowd hating me. I saw a picture where those guys were standing and cheering after the final. They were the same guys that were yelling at me earlier. It was pretty cool to see.”

A career calling

Ackerman, who wears prosthetic legs when he’s not wrestling, may not have completed the David-vs.-Goliath upset had he known all of Slack’s credentials entering the championship match. The two had never crossed paths in their careers until that day.

“I don’t like to know all the things about someone before I wrestle him,” Ackerman said. “I block it out. Later I was like, ‘Holy crap. He’s not so bad.’ He is a monster of a guy. It started at his ankles and went all the way up. He was a large V. It was a lot of fun, and something that has impacted my life in a positive way.”

A couple of months later Ackerman graduated from Simpson with a degree in environmental biology, which he had planned to use in a career as a Department of Natural Resources officer. Two of Ackerman’s biggest passions are hunting and fishing.

“If he would’ve worked as hard at wrestling as he did at those things, he probably could’ve won two or three national titles,” Peterson joked. “He used to try to manipulate me every day to adjust our practices to fit his hunting schedule in the winter.”

But after the story of his national title spread, a life-changing conversation took place.

“I was in my fraternity room, and a kid called me,” Ackerman said. “He was getting choked up. He was 20 years old and had lost his legs in a car accident. He read a story about me in USA Today, and he wanted to talk. We ended up talking around two hours about prosthetics and other things.”

The caller wanted to know how females felt about dating a man without legs, and every-day-life types of questions.

After he hung up the phone, Ackerman knew his professional calling would be to make prosthetic limbs for others.

He went to a prosthetics school at Northwestern University, completed a one-year residency program and passed a board test to become certified in his field. Today, the 26-year-old Ackerman works for American Prosthetics and Orthotics in Davenport, Iowa. It’s the same company that made his legs while he was growing up.

He understands the impact he can have in this line of work.

“I made a leg last month for an assistant high school wrestling coach from East Moline, Illinois,” Ackerman said. “He lost a leg in a motorcycle wreck this summer. I also went over and talked to his wrestling team.”

Widespread impact

Bryan Poulter, who coached Ackerman at Colfax-Mingo High School, said he still receives correspondence from people he’s never heard of because of his relationship with Ackerman. They ask for advice on how to coach athletes with disabilities.

“In November, I got an e-mail from a coach in Canada who had a young man come in his room wanting to wrestle,” Poulter said. “This kid had a birth defect and doesn’t have any feet. I learned a lot from Nick. He has always impressed me. Even when he was young and someone said something about his disability, he would always correct them and say, ‘I don’t have a disability. I have ability.’ He never saw anything he couldn’t do.”

That was evident the first time Poulter, who also was the manager of the Colfax Municipal Pool, saw Ackerman.

“I didn’t notice him at first, but he sat down on the deck,” Poulter said. “I saw him unhook his legs, and he dove in the deep end. I’m thinking, ‘Oh no, he’s going to drown here.’ He swam and then he went off the diving boards.”

Determination has always been Ackerman’s strong trait. During his senior year at the Iowa State Wrestling Tournament, he broke his wrist early in his first match but still managed to defeat the No. 1-ranked wrestler in the 152-pound weight class.

He refused to have the injury X-rayed and wrestled two more days in the tournament.

Legendary wrestler and former University of Iowa coach Dan Gable was in attendance, and he congratulated Ackerman on his courage.

“When we were at the hotel, we were telling Nick that he needed to go to the hospital,” said his mother Cindy Ackerman. “His wrist was so swollen. The trainers at Simpson, where my oldest son Nathan was playing basketball, came up and wrapped it for him. He wouldn’t go to the hospital, because he had come so far.”

Since her son lost the bottom portions of his legs at such a young age, Cindy Ackerman wanted to instill self-confidence in him.

She took the lead by addressing his teachers and classmates in pre- and elementary school at the start of each academic year.

Her message was that Nick didn’t have the full use of his legs, but he was not “weird.” He was just different, but he didn’t need to be singled out for special attention, she said.

“I went to Nick’s school and told the teachers, ‘Don’t stop him from doing something that the rest of the class is doing,’ ” Cindy Ackerman said. “I told them I would never sue them if he breaks an arm or anything. I told them I would put it in writing. We passed his legs around so the other kids could see them.”

Nick Ackerman added, “My mom made people in the room feel very comfortable. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to be a young teacher and having a student who is missing his legs. You’re probably overprotective. She didn’t want to shelter me. I grew up that way.”

Ackerman had to undergo at least two surgeries a year until he was 16 to shave the bones, which continued to grow in his legs. He would also receive a new pair of prosthetic legs on an annual basis.

His brother Nathan was a 6-7 all-American basketball player at Simpson. Doctors have told the Ackermans that judging by the wing span of Nick’s arms, he probably would have grown to be anywhere from 6-8 to seven-feet tall.

He accepted his fate and made the most of what life had dealt him.

Since he didn’t have the lower parts of his legs, he was able to put the weight into his upper body to make himself stronger in his shoulders and arms.

He took care of the rest by believing he could win a national championship in wrestling.

“A lot of other people have ‘handicaps’ that aren’t as visible but are just as crippling,” Ackerman said. “I’ve always thought wrestling is 85 percent mental when it comes to competing at this level. Everybody is physically in shape. It’s about being mentally prepared.”

The training led to a special moment for both he and everyone in attendance to cherish.