Bob Hall, the father of wheelchair racing and a two-time Boston Marathon winner, was the lead plaintiff in a groundbreaking lawsuit under the Americans with Disabilities Act that opened up the field of wheelchair racing.
When Bob Hall, the father of wheelchair racing, passed away last month, the wheelchair racing community and many news outlets paid tribute to his profound impact on the Boston Marathon and wheelchair racing worldwide. Bob was the first person to compete in the Boston Marathon in a wheelchair, which led to the creation of the Boston marathon’s official wheelchair division and, eventually, wheelchair divisions in marathons across the country and around the world. He also revolutionized the sport by designing and improving racing wheelchairs.
However, none of those tributes recognized Hall’s impact on New York City and, specifically, the wheelchair division in the New York City Marathon. And none of those articles could have known about Hall's impact on my career as a litigator and law firm pro bono partner and the many attorneys who have since made pro bono work a part of their careers.
Each year, I share the experience of my first pro bono case with summer associates at our firm, hoping they will recognize the many professional opportunities that pro bono work presents. Many of them have become pro bono champions. Hall is a central figure in that story.
Bob Hall and The Boston Marathon
Hall’s experience as the first person to compete in the Boston Marathon in a wheelchair is legendary. In the early 1970s, when Hall sought permission from the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) to compete in a wheelchair, the BAA informed him that he would only receive an official finisher's certificate if he completed the course in under three and a half hours. Hall finished in 2 hours and 58 minutes.
His accomplishment and advocacy spurred the creation of an official wheelchair division, inspired thousands of people to take up wheelchair racing, and ultimately led to marathons around the world adding wheelchair divisions.
The Tortured History of Wheelchair Athletes in the New York City Marathon
Since the first running of the New York City Marathon in 1970, it has grown into the largest marathon in the world—a day of celebration, achievement, and international diversity. However, for people with disabilities who wished to race in wheelchairs, the marathon's history was far from welcoming.
After Hall was permitted to compete in Boston, he applied to race in the New York City Marathon. His application was rejected by the race's organizer, the New York Road Runners, which stated that it was forced to do so because it had "decided not to allow any vehicles on the race course, including wheelchairs," citing participant safety as its "primary concern." The letter also requested that Hall help in "notifying other wheelchair entrants" that "if they come to the race, officials or police officers will most likely eject them from the course.”
That statement was reminiscent of the story of Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to compete in the Boston Marathon. Switzer entered the 1967 race under a pseudonym because women were prohibited from participating in marathons at the time. In one of the most infamous photographs in sports history, a BAA co-director attempted to tear off her race bib during the race.
Like Switzer, who refused to be deterred and inspired generations of female athletes, Hall refused to accept his rejection. He enlisted the help of the New York Civil Liberties Union and filed a complaint.
Although Hall was initially successful in his administrative complaint before the Human Rights Commission, the Road Runners appealed and the Appellate Division ruled that the Road Runners had not engaged in an unlawful discriminatory practice by excluding wheelchairs, because they had also "properly barred individuals who wished to use a bicycle or a skateboard in that foot race." New York Roadrunners Club et al. v. State Division of Human Rights et al., 81 A.D.2d 519 (1981).
The Court of Appeals affirmed, holding that the Road Runners had not discriminated against the wheelchair racers by "requir[ing] participants to use only their feet, and not wheelchairs, skateboards, bicycles or other extraneous aids." The court invoked what has too often been used in our country's history to justify discrimination — tradition — stating that what the Road Runners "had decided to conduct was not just any kind of marathon race, but a marathon footrace, a traditionally and... historically rooted athletic event." In the Matter of New York Roadrunners Club et al. v. State Division of Human Rights, 55 N.Y.2d 122 (1982).
The Impact of the Americans with Disabilities Act on the New York City Marathon
In 1998, as a first-year attorney, I was sitting at my desk reading the New York Times, when I turned to the sports section and saw an article titled Wheelchair Athletes Get an Unwanted Break.
The article described a controversy during the 1998 New York City Marathon in which dozens of wheelchair athletes were stopped for nearly half an hour at the Queensboro Bridge to allow the lead elite male runners to pass. One of the wheelchair racers, who worked for the Department of Justice, called it "one of the worst cases of discrimination I've seen." The article confirmed that the New York City Marathon's policy was to stop wheelchair racers "to let elite runners through, because this race does not have an official wheelchair division.”
I was both shocked and intrigued. Shocked because my brother Alan, a wheelchair athlete, had also been stopped after entering Central Park nearly ten years earlier to allow the lead female runners to pass, and intrigued because, by the late 1990s, the legal landscape had shifted and a significant new civil rights law had been enacted—the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).
I was also aware of PGA Tour, Inc. v. Martin, a case that was eventually decided by the Supreme Court of the United States, which ruled that Casey Martin must be permitted to participate in PGA Tour events even if he needed to use a golf cart to traverse the course.
I called Hall and asked whether he was aware of what occurred at the New York City Marathon. I'm embarrassed to admit that although I knew him as the wheelchair racing icon who had built my brother's racing wheelchair, I had no knowledge prior to that of his earlier prior legal battle,—a point I share with incoming attorneys as a reminder about the importance of due diligence and preparation.
Hall remained angry about the situation, recounting years of humiliating incidents that occurred when he tried to compete in New York City. I also learned of wheelchair racers secretly entering the event under pseudonyms—just like Kathrine Switzer—in order to receive race numbers. Hall hadn’t tried to race in York City since the time when wheelchair athletes were told they needed to be bused across the Verrazano Bridge at the start of the marathon—causing Hall and other racers to go home in fustration. "I was so disappointed I couldn't even speak," Hall told The New Yorker in 1995. (Nov. 27, 1995, p. 36.)
‘Hall v. New York Road Runners Club’
Hall eagerly agreed to serve as the lead plaintiff in Hall v. New York Road Runners Club, 99-Civ.-4122 (E.D.N.Y.), brought under Title III of the ADA. The case ultimately settled, with the Road Runners agreeing to create an official wheelchair division in the New York City Marathon, which now attracts the top wheelchair athletes from around the world.
While the result was deeply satisfying, it was the experience of taking on the case pro bono that proved transformative for me and has benefited me throughout my career—both as a litigator and in my current role as pro bono partner.
It was my first real exposure to what it meant to own a case from beginning to end. From drafting an advocacy memo to convince the firm's partners to take on the matter, interviewing potential clients, drafting a complaint, negotiating with opposing counsel, appearing before a judge for the first time, and embracing the full responsibility of seeing a case through to conclusion, I was hooked.
Since the Hall case, I have come to see my experience as a first-year attorney not as an outlier, but as a compelling illustration of very reason why attorneys should embrace pro bono work—to develop their skills, become strong advocates for their clients, gain invaluable experience, and positively impact people and communities.
Hundreds of incoming attorneys have heard my story, and many have eagerly made pro bono part of their professional lives. In that sense, Bob Hall was not only a wheelchair racing legend—he was also a legendary advocate whose legacy extends beyond the sport he helped to transform. His willingness to advocate for himself and for the benefit of others inspired a generation of attorneys to use their skills to make a positive impact on the communities in which they live and practice.
Dan Brown is a partner at Sheppard.
Reprinted with permission from the May 13, 2026 edition of The New York Law Journal 2026 ALM Global Properties, LLC. All rights reserved. Further duplication without permission is prohibited, contact 877-256-2472 or asset-and-logo-licensing@alm.com
When Bob Hall, the father of wheelchair racing, passed away last month, the wheelchair racing community and many news outlets paid tribute to his profound impact on the Boston Marathon and wheelchair racing worldwide. Bob was the first person to compete in the Boston Marathon in a wheelchair, which led to the creation of the Boston marathon’s official wheelchair division and, eventually, wheelchair divisions in marathons across the country and around the world. He also revolutionized the sport by designing and improving racing wheelchairs.
However, none of those tributes recognized Hall’s impact on New York City and, specifically, the wheelchair division in the New York City Marathon. And none of those articles could have known about Hall's impact on my career as a litigator and law firm pro bono partner and the many attorneys who have since made pro bono work a part of their careers.
Each year, I share the experience of my first pro bono case with summer associates at our firm, hoping they will recognize the many professional opportunities that pro bono work presents. Many of them have become pro bono champions. Hall is a central figure in that story.
Bob Hall and The Boston Marathon
Hall’s experience as the first person to compete in the Boston Marathon in a wheelchair is legendary. In the early 1970s, when Hall sought permission from the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) to compete in a wheelchair, the BAA informed him that he would only receive an official finisher's certificate if he completed the course in under three and a half hours. Hall finished in 2 hours and 58 minutes.
His accomplishment and advocacy spurred the creation of an official wheelchair division, inspired thousands of people to take up wheelchair racing, and ultimately led to marathons around the world adding wheelchair divisions.
The Tortured History of Wheelchair Athletes in the New York City Marathon
Since the first running of the New York City Marathon in 1970, it has grown into the largest marathon in the world—a day of celebration, achievement, and international diversity. However, for people with disabilities who wished to race in wheelchairs, the marathon's history was far from welcoming.
After Hall was permitted to compete in Boston, he applied to race in the New York City Marathon. His application was rejected by the race's organizer, the New York Road Runners, which stated that it was forced to do so because it had "decided not to allow any vehicles on the race course, including wheelchairs," citing participant safety as its "primary concern." The letter also requested that Hall help in "notifying other wheelchair entrants" that "if they come to the race, officials or police officers will most likely eject them from the course.”
That statement was reminiscent of the story of Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to compete in the Boston Marathon. Switzer entered the 1967 race under a pseudonym because women were prohibited from participating in marathons at the time. In one of the most infamous photographs in sports history, a BAA co-director attempted to tear off her race bib during the race.
Like Switzer, who refused to be deterred and inspired generations of female athletes, Hall refused to accept his rejection. He enlisted the help of the New York Civil Liberties Union and filed a complaint.
Although Hall was initially successful in his administrative complaint before the Human Rights Commission, the Road Runners appealed and the Appellate Division ruled that the Road Runners had not engaged in an unlawful discriminatory practice by excluding wheelchairs, because they had also "properly barred individuals who wished to use a bicycle or a skateboard in that foot race." New York Roadrunners Club et al. v. State Division of Human Rights et al., 81 A.D.2d 519 (1981).
The Court of Appeals affirmed, holding that the Road Runners had not discriminated against the wheelchair racers by "requir[ing] participants to use only their feet, and not wheelchairs, skateboards, bicycles or other extraneous aids." The court invoked what has too often been used in our country's history to justify discrimination — tradition — stating that what the Road Runners "had decided to conduct was not just any kind of marathon race, but a marathon footrace, a traditionally and... historically rooted athletic event." In the Matter of New York Roadrunners Club et al. v. State Division of Human Rights, 55 N.Y.2d 122 (1982).
The Impact of the Americans with Disabilities Act on the New York City Marathon
In 1998, as a first-year attorney, I was sitting at my desk reading the New York Times, when I turned to the sports section and saw an article titled Wheelchair Athletes Get an Unwanted Break.
The article described a controversy during the 1998 New York City Marathon in which dozens of wheelchair athletes were stopped for nearly half an hour at the Queensboro Bridge to allow the lead elite male runners to pass. One of the wheelchair racers, who worked for the Department of Justice, called it "one of the worst cases of discrimination I've seen." The article confirmed that the New York City Marathon's policy was to stop wheelchair racers "to let elite runners through, because this race does not have an official wheelchair division.”
I was both shocked and intrigued. Shocked because my brother Alan, a wheelchair athlete, had also been stopped after entering Central Park nearly ten years earlier to allow the lead female runners to pass, and intrigued because, by the late 1990s, the legal landscape had shifted and a significant new civil rights law had been enacted—the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).
I was also aware of PGA Tour, Inc. v. Martin, a case that was eventually decided by the Supreme Court of the United States, which ruled that Casey Martin must be permitted to participate in PGA Tour events even if he needed to use a golf cart to traverse the course.
I called Hall and asked whether he was aware of what occurred at the New York City Marathon. I'm embarrassed to admit that although I knew him as the wheelchair racing icon who had built my brother's racing wheelchair, I had no knowledge prior to that of his earlier prior legal battle,—a point I share with incoming attorneys as a reminder about the importance of due diligence and preparation.
Hall remained angry about the situation, recounting years of humiliating incidents that occurred when he tried to compete in New York City. I also learned of wheelchair racers secretly entering the event under pseudonyms—just like Kathrine Switzer—in order to receive race numbers. Hall hadn’t tried to race in York City since the time when wheelchair athletes were told they needed to be bused across the Verrazano Bridge at the start of the marathon—causing Hall and other racers to go home in fustration. "I was so disappointed I couldn't even speak," Hall told The New Yorker in 1995. (Nov. 27, 1995, p. 36.)
‘Hall v. New York Road Runners Club’
Hall eagerly agreed to serve as the lead plaintiff in Hall v. New York Road Runners Club, 99-Civ.-4122 (E.D.N.Y.), brought under Title III of the ADA. The case ultimately settled, with the Road Runners agreeing to create an official wheelchair division in the New York City Marathon, which now attracts the top wheelchair athletes from around the world.
While the result was deeply satisfying, it was the experience of taking on the case pro bono that proved transformative for me and has benefited me throughout my career—both as a litigator and in my current role as pro bono partner.
It was my first real exposure to what it meant to own a case from beginning to end. From drafting an advocacy memo to convince the firm's partners to take on the matter, interviewing potential clients, drafting a complaint, negotiating with opposing counsel, appearing before a judge for the first time, and embracing the full responsibility of seeing a case through to conclusion, I was hooked.
Since the Hall case, I have come to see my experience as a first-year attorney not as an outlier, but as a compelling illustration of very reason why attorneys should embrace pro bono work—to develop their skills, become strong advocates for their clients, gain invaluable experience, and positively impact people and communities.
Hundreds of incoming attorneys have heard my story, and many have eagerly made pro bono part of their professional lives. In that sense, Bob Hall was not only a wheelchair racing legend—he was also a legendary advocate whose legacy extends beyond the sport he helped to transform. His willingness to advocate for himself and for the benefit of others inspired a generation of attorneys to use their skills to make a positive impact on the communities in which they live and practice.
Dan Brown is a partner at Sheppard.
Reprinted with permission from the May 13, 2026 edition of The New York Law Journal 2026 ALM Global Properties, LLC. All rights reserved. Further duplication without permission is prohibited, contact 877-256-2472 or asset-and-logo-licensing@alm.com