'He means a lot. He's dad.'

His arms chugged back and forth like a steam engine under the water. The child navigated the 50 meters, his limbs never breaking the surface.

Fred Lamback watched his son Lantz, the one with cerebral palsy, the one with the two "bum legs," the one with the determined spirit, and thought, "This boy's got something."

Little did the father know where the son's first swim would lead.

From Argentina to Greece to China, the elder Lamback has followed his son, watching him develop into a world champion Paralympic swimmer. At the 2008 Beijing Paralympic Games, Lamback witnessed Lantz's consummate moment -- winning a gold medal in the 100-meter backstroke S7 division with a world record time of 1 minute, 12.09 seconds.

"My worst nightmare would've been if I hadn't gone and he won a gold medal," Lamback said. "He's had girls turn him down. He's had someone in Carrollton (Ga.) say he should be in the Special Olympics. And then he's the best. It's pretty awesome."

Lantz said having his father in attendance only added to the experience, because few swimmers are lucky enough to have at least one parent at an international competition.

On Father's Day, Lantz has not forgotten his father's impact.

"He means a lot," he said. "He's dad. I couldn't do a lot without him."

Initial impact

The younger Lamback -- fifth of six children, middle child of three children to Lamback and his second wife, Donna -- is the only one of the children with a physical disability. The Lambacks never allowed Lantz to feel like he was different.

"We've worked so hard," Lamback said, "to make him realize he's just another child."

When Lantz wanted to try a team sport, his father bought about 40 baseballs. When Lantz switched from outfield to first base, his father would go around the horn, throwing balls to him from second base, third base and shortstop.

"I threw more balls than a Major Leaguer," Lamback said. "But he hung in there. He'd catch some of them."

Lantz played baseball for four years, before he wanted to move up to the next level. The first baseman, the one with cerebral palsy, the one who had difficulty running, the one whose reactions were just a bit slower than his teammates, wanted to test out his talent.

The father took his child to watch the competition he'd face. Listen to that baseball pop the catcher's mitt, Lamback would say. Man, did you see the rope that guy hit down the first-base line, he'd ask Lantz.

Lamback started making a mental checklist in case Lantz committed to the sport: a mouthpiece, a chest protector and a cup.

Lantz eventually lost interest.

"I was scared to death he was going to play," Lamback said. "When you have a child with a disability, you can't tell them 'no'."

Fish in the water

When their children were younger, the Lambacks worked out an agreement. The mother home-schooled the children. The father handled the physical education. Swimming was a natural fit.

When Lantz was 9, he tagged along with his father and his sister, Julia, to the Fort Gordon pool. She swam for Aiken-Augusta Swim League and his father trained for triathlons. Inspired by the two, Lantz wanted to get in the water.

His father couldn't tell him no.

After Lantz's initial 50-meter swim, his father signed him up for competitive swimming with ASL. Against able-bodied swimmers, Lantz struggled to keep up, often finishing last -- sometimes an agonizing 20 seconds back. With his father's encouragement, the younger Lamback kept doing what he loved.

"I don't know if I would've had the fortitude to stand up on the blocks knowing I was going to finish last," the elder Lamback said. "When you're last every damn time and you know it before the whistle blows, it takes a special kind of person to do that.

"He may have a disability, but he's just like you and me. He wants to win."

The repetition of touching the wall behind everyone else finally caught up to Lantz. One day, in disappointment, he tossed a seventh-place ribbon up on the sideboard in the kitchen. Finally, at age 14, Lantz had had enough of losing.

The elder Lamback had been waiting on the breaking moment. He already had spoken with Claudia Collins, adaptive aquatics director at the Family Y, about Lantz. The elder Lamback then did two things: encouraged his son not to give up and got him into disabled swimming.

On a Friday, Lantz and his mother traveled three hours to a meet in Warm Springs, Ga., to get Lantz a disabled swimmer classification, and then returned home. That same day, the elder Lamback took Julia, and his youngest son, Paul, to a local swim meet. On Saturday, Lantz and his father returned to Warm Springs.

With his new S7 classification -- an S1 has the most physical limitations, while an S10 swimmer is more able-bodied -- Lantz competed against other swimmers with disabilities like his. Those competitors at Warm Springs never had a chance.

"He killed them," Lamback said.

Sitting midway at the pool, the elder Lamback was approached by a stranger who asked if he was taking Lantz to the junior nationals. Why, Lamback asked. Because he has a bright future in disabled swimming up to the national level and beyond, the stranger responded.

"I thought," Lamback said, "this guy was shooting me a line of crap."

Lamback drove Lantz to Piscataway, N.J., to see how his son would fare on the junior national level. All Lantz did was win seven events.

Lantz's new career soon took off. He advanced from junior nationals to nationals, winning 13 medals along the way. In 2002, he represented the U.S. Paralympic national team in Mar Del Plata, Argentina.

Two years later, he won a pair of bronze medals in the Paralympic Games in Athens. After the 2004 Games, Lantz returned home with the thought of quitting.

His father kept encouraging him.

"Dad didn't want me to stop," Lantz said. "It's great. He loves it. And I love it, too."

"I think there's something special with Lantz and daddy," Lamback's daughter, Julia Herring said. "Swimming is something they could do together."

Lamback rarely misses seeing Lantz at an international meet, and the 2008 Paralympic Games was no different. There, Lantz captured four medals with his father by his side.

"You could see Fred in the stands on the other side and the pride he had," U.S. Paralympic resident swimming coach Jimi Flowers said. "Fred is very supportive of Lantz. He wants the best for Lantz no matter what it is."

Helping others

Lamback wants the best for other swimmers like Lantz. Nine years ago, he became involved with Atlanta-based BlazeSports, an organization dedicated to disabled athletes. Lamback serves as swim coach for the Georgia Blazers, a group of 12 swimmers. He drives to Atlanta once a month for a 90-minute practice -- in addition to other statewide and national meets he attends.

Lamback, who coached recreation baseball two decades earlier, made the easy transition to leading swimmers.

"He just loves coaching sports," said Herring, an occupational therapist who's also a swim coach for ASL.

"He's giving back. He's identifying with these families who do have children with needs like Lantz."

"Because Lantz has done so much with his disability, Fred wants to help so many others with theirs," said Glenda Orth, Georgia Swimming Officials Committee chairman. "Fred has such a big heart. ... Everybody loves him."

Orth worked a recent meet in Oklahoma. Several swimmers approached her, asking, "How's Mr. Fred?"

"He makes an impact," she said, "wherever he goes."

Lamback said he can relate to the swimmers on the team, because Lantz has cerebral palsy.

"Maybe, it's just giving back a little bit," he said. "It's humbling.

"You see what the children overcome. It makes you realize when you have a blister on your foot, that's nothing."

In 2004, Lamback was selected as the personal care assistant for the U.S. Paralympic swimming team. In Athens, Greece, he performed tasks like helping swimmers to the blocks or making sure the children were in bed on time. Two blind female swimmers had to be tapped at each end of the pool when they swam. Sometimes, he'd run from one end to the other.

"People ask what I did in Athens," Lamback said. "I rode from the center to the pool and from the pool to the center."

Mr, Lamback, 68, usually burns all six weeks of his vacation either with Lantz or helping other disabled swimmers. Earlier this year, he traveled to Egypt and South Africa as a BlazeSports representative to help enhance disability sports opportunities. Next month, he's accompanying two of his swim team members to a meet in Edmonton, Canada.

"With his involvement with Lantz, he took it a step further," said Hal Torgesen, a former ASL swim official.

Donna Lamback encourages her husband in his venture. Once he retires, she told him, he'll be able to do even more.

"I'm all for him," she said. "I'm waiting for him to get more involved."

The future

Lantz turns 23 this month. He and his father, who are a lot alike in physical stature (tall, lean and muscular) and mannerisms (hard-headed and opinionated, Herring said) don't spend as much time together these days. Lamback is busy working at Augusta Newsprint and coaching and officiating local swim meets. He's also trying to swim 1,500 meters three times a week in preparation for a 2010 marathon.

Lantz also is consumed with training, keeping in shape for the 2012 Paralympic Games in London. He also works part time as an adaptive aquatics instructor at the Family Y.

Since he is older, Lantz doesn't need his father's help as much these days. As he prepared for the 2008 Paralympics, Lantz gained independence with his lengthy stay at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, Colo. In Augusta, he can drive himself around town.

Lantz has come a long way since that first time he swam with his arms under the water. Since then, he's won six Paralympic Games medals and set numerous U.S. and world records.

"I admire him," the elder Lamback said. "A gold medal? A world record? Golly."

Reach Chris Gay at (706) 823-3645 or chris.gay@augustachronicle.com.