Shortly before his death this spring, inclusive tourism ambassador, first-rate blogger, and spiritual advisor to many, Scott Rains posted a short piece: “We each have a limited lifetime and within that, a finite set of moments when our abilities align with the opportunity to leave a positive legacy that ripples into the future. Build for yourself a lifestyle that ripples. It’s the only kind that leaves good wrinkles in the corners of your eyes.”

His words were translated into many languages and embossed on picture after picture of him, smiling beatifically, his white hair and beard unkempt on the road and then trimmed for his many public appearances. It became an oft-used caption of snapshots of him. I see Scott peering intently into binoculars at a glacier from the deck of a small boat. I imagine him laughing on a tippy elephant ride in India or carefully observing a leopard from a safe distance on safari in Africa.

I met Scott in Seattle through Karen Braitmayer, an amazing advocate in the field of architecture. I once hosted them here in my accessible condo that Karen helped design. The three of us huddled on topics that I was eager to tackle: advocating for better access to businesses, getting curb cuts in city sidewalks, holding developers and landlords and politicians accountable. When I tentatively started my own blog, Scott did a careful read. He always had powerful suggestions, and he often amplified it. Getting an endorsement from Scott was golden. His own site, Rolling Rains, was an object lesson in thoughtful reflection and helpful resources and urgent calls to action.

After he died, I decided to take his spirit with me. Scott used kindness and persistence and humor and intelligence to break down barriers, even at times when anger and cynicism and profanity would have been completely justified. When I see a mobi-mat or a much-needed ramp at a beach or an accessible Port-o-potty at a sporting event or a well-placed designated parking space at a popular attraction, I give a little prayer of thanks to Scott and all the advocates before him who were willing to push for better services to help millions of people like me live a more active and public life.

I was at the Salt Pond Visitor Center at the National Seashore on Cape Cod one morning this summer and was having trouble locating the accessible trails, so I stopped two park rangers who were heading to the Center. “I’ve tried both in a chair,” said the younger guy. “It’s tough in the steeper places.” So that was a victory, a recommendation based on actual experience. “Let me know how it goes.” Followed by a request for feedback from a chair user. Bonus! I could feel the ripple of Scott’s work, one that I could extend. I like to think that this lifestyle of mine is starting to leave good wrinkles in the corners of my eyes, too.