If all goes according to plan, 14-year-old Oshyn’s wish day will go down in his history as just one small step toward becoming the first disabled person in space. The Make-A-Wish Foundation took him a bit closer to the stars by granting his wish for a rocket-shaped clubhouse in his backyard.

The Washington teen has cerebral palsy and Arnold-Chiari malformation, a rare condition that affects his brain stem. He also has a big imagination – he considered wishing to meet Harry Potter and taking his family on a vacation.

"But when we talked more about his wish," his mother, Betsy, told local reporters, "he told us he's interested in becoming the first disabled person in space."

Oshyn first became interested in spaceflight when he was around 7 years old, Betsy said. His class spent time studying space, and he was fascinated by the idea of being weightless because it would free him from some of his body’s limitations. Even though Oshyn is now a teen, he still loves talking about space and the search for extraterrestrial life.

For Leslie Woodfill, a wish manager for the Make-A-Wish Foundation of Alaska, Montana, Northern Idaho & Washington, the space race was on. Woodfill scored a major victory while getting her daily latte at a local coffee shop: She struck up a conversation with Doug Heyamoto, an architect. Together, they started recruiting suppliers and volunteers. Heyamoto began drawing plans for a 17-foot-tall rocket clubhouse that would be ready to launch for Oshyn’s 14th birthday.

Volunteers worked for five weeks to create a space-age flavor. Like any good special effects team, they used their imaginations, looking at common items that could turn into the perfect rocket clubhouse. A huge metal funnel became the rocket’s nose, security camera covers were turned into bubble windows and the soundboard from an old theater became the rocket’s control panel. The result is The Oshyn Orbiter, a throwback space capsule that wouldn’t have looked out of place topping a Saturn V rocket at the Kennedy Space Center.

Inside, glow-in-the-dark stars line the ceiling. And Oshyn has room to stretch out and enjoy himself – it’s not a cramped, instrument-crammed box like the Apollo capsules it resembles. Oshyn’s always eager to welcome his younger siblings and neighbors aboard. When the weather is warm enough, he spends hours after school in The Oshyn Orbiter.

“It’s the first place he goes when he gets off the bus,” Betsy said.

Building The Oshyn Orbiter would’ve cost about $21,000, according to Woodfill. One day, she was at the construction site with the team from Walker Construction, which was building the capsule. Woodfill spotted a penny on the ground, handed it to the construction supervisor and said it was a “lucky penny day.” The company considered Woodfill’s penny payment enough for getting to share the power of a wish^® , and marked its one-cent bill “paid in full.”

By Justin Schmid