Michelle Nickleberry, Autism Education and Training for Flight Crews and Law Enforcement

Michelle Nickleberry adopted her daughters, Tori and Lexi, as a single woman.   She works as a flight attendant with a major airline, provides concealed handgun training, and works as a grievance specialist with a union.  Her ambitions are to:

1. Expand airline passenger orientation programs for kids with autism in order to reduce the chances of behaviors that officials and passengers may not understand.
2. Develop awareness programs for airline staff and police forces both to reduce the risk of harming a child and to reduce escalations that may demand resources best used someplace else.   

Michelle’s Story, Part 1 of 2:

“When I married, it was a family decision for me to leave the Dallas Police Force.  I think about going back as a reserve police officer sometimes.  Life is different now.  Now, I am a single mother of two daughters, one on the autism spectrum.  I adopted twin daughters, my kiddos, after they came into my life as foster children at only eleven days old and born prematurely.”

Michelle oriented me to that difference in her life by sharing one particular police call:

“He threw us around like we were ragdolls,” recalled Michelle, her voice steady; like the brawl must have found its place in the context of her life.  “My partner and I didn’t know if we were going to make it.  The perpetrator was so strong… extremely strong.  He wasn’t trying to stop us.  He wasn’t trying to resist us.”  Driven by rage-induced mental health issues and the inadvertent intake of laced marijuana, “He attacked us.  He tried to take our firearms.  He hit us over the head.  This was a fight for us to go home. So, it was on.  We engaged him will all the strength and tactics coming from the only source it could, God’s gift of the will to survive.

“A security guard showed up.  He had a shotgun.  He went to lay it down so that he could help us. Immediately, we told him not to lay it down.  The police weren’t necessarily appreciated in that neighborhood though we had a police room in this same complex.  He came to help, shotgun and all. Shotgun flailing at risk of firing, perpetrator kicking, punching, going for our guns… we got one cuff on him.  Other police officers arrived.   We all finally cuffed and subdued him enough to get him into the ambulance.

“My partner and I looked at one another after it was over.  Minor injuries, no hospitalization, and we were still alive.  We sat in the cruiser, looked at one another again and cried.  We followed the ambulance to the hospital.”  The perpetrator’s family probably followed as well.  They were the ones who called the 911 operator,   “… giving a warning that he was out of control.  He had attacked them first.  When we showed up, he had gone from attacking his family to attacking us.

“The incident made me more aware of my mortality, but it did not change my path.  I had joined the Dallas Police force in my early 20s.  Later, I became a detective.  I loved the rush, chasing people, figuring out what the bad guy was doing and stopping him.  I always kept in mind that it could have been my partner or me on the department’s memorial wall.

“After marriage, I left the force.  When divorced, I made an attempt to return.  But, there were too many changes.  Somewhere in all that, I earned a Master’s Degree in Counseling Psychology.  Then my kiddos came into my life as foster children.  As foster kids, each was required to get five shots at fifteen months old, all in one day."

Roughly, two weeks after the vaccination, Lexi seemed unaffected.  But, Tori quit talking.  She quit giving eye-contact and stared blankly.  “Tori had started saying little things like mommy and bye-bye, the little things that babies say.  She stopped talking whatsoever:  no more hugging and kissing, no more eye contact.  She reacted differently to things that I said.

“She was already behind in development and had occupational and physical therapy because she was born premature.  Both therapists thought that her lagging development was due to that condition.  I asked them about autism because, in my work, I knew about it.  The recurring comment was, ‘She is too social to have autism.’  They fought me on the autism diagnosis.  Her ability to read labels at the grocery store at age two didn’t help my argument.  So, I contacted a children’s hospital.  The hospital stated Tori needed to be at least two and a half years old before she could be tested.

“I scheduled her for testing so that the appointment fell on the first possible day she would become eligible."  Michelle continued with the prescribed care.  MEDICAID paid for care because Tori and Lexi were both under foster care.  That stopped after Michelle’s application to adopt the twins was approved.  “My insurance was used to cover the exam and the testing for autism.”

“One day at the doctor’s, I talked about how Tori crawled on one knee, her right knee, like her left leg was dead.  She pulled herself with her arms.   I don’t think I heard but four words.   Bone infection!  Death!  Hospital….  Then, I drove.  I mean…Al… seriously… I drove to the hospital!  Everything and everybody was in my way.  My car was not fast enough.

“After seven or eight hours at the hospital, the doctors ruled out a bone infection.  They did not know the cause of her awkward crawling.  An occupational therapist saw her and said that the only other time she had seen something similar was with one of her young patients who had autism .”

Click To Read Part 2


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