PUSHING AHEAD WITH DREAM DESPITE DISABILITY, BURBANK MAN PURSUES SCREENWRITING SUCCESS.

Byline: Alex Dobuzinskis Staff Writer

BURBANK - John Bradford Goodman spends 16 hours a day in an iron lung that keeps him alive with the steady working of its engine.

But it's another engine that gives the 33-year-old writer the will to go on each day: his ambition to create stories and scripts for Hollywood.

``That goal saved my life,'' said Goodman, who was diagnosed with spinal muscle atrophy as an infant and has used an iron lung since he was 11.

``Because I had something to look forward to, I had something to wake up to and say, Today I have a goal, a purpose in life, and that's to make films that inspire people.''

Goodman wrote his first script at 18, using the depression he felt about his life to fuel his creativity. Now, he said, he accepts his condition and works with it and around it.

Goodman's iron lung and his view through sliding glass doors to his front yard make up most of his daily experience. He sleeps in his iron lung, wakes and dresses outside the machine, and then re-enters it to eat. Although his meals are processed in a blender, he would choke if he had to eat and breathe on his own.

Later, he leaves the iron lung to write, dictating to one of the caregivers who attend him around the clock. The rest of his time he watches television and spins stories in his head to dictate later.

``I can't write when I'm in the iron lung, so it's frustrating,'' Goodman said. ``I have to really manage my time appropriately so I can write, do everything that a normal person does, plus attend to my disability.''

Goodman's use of an iron lung is unusual these days. Fewer than 50 people nationwide still use the devices, which were widespread during the polio epidemic of the 1950s, when most large hospitals had wards filled with polio patients in rows of iron lungs.

``Our heads were outside so we could see each other and talk. And we had movies once a week,'' recalled Richard Daggett, 64, of Downey, who spent six months in an iron lung ward at Rancho Los Amigos National Rehabilitation Center when he was 13.

The horizonal airtight chambers encase all but the user's head. Air is pushed in and sucked out of the cylinder, forcing patients to ``breathe'' as their chests expand and contract through changes in air pressure.

Some polio victims spent their entire lives in iron lungs. But as polio sufferers died and newer, more portable respiratory devices were developed, the number of people in iron lungs dwindled.

The J.H. Emerson Co., which manufactured Goodman's iron lung, stopped making the machines 34 years ago, and spare parts for repairs are becoming increasingly difficult to find.

Still, Goodman clings to his for its comfort and familiarity.

Goodman's mother, Diana Vela of Austin, said her son stays with the tried and true: he still uses a seat he has had since he was 10.

``I think what he does is he finds something works and he sticks with it. Just like the iron lung works for him and he sticks with it,'' she said.

Goodman relies on his iron lung more now than he used to. When he studied at San Diego State University, he used it about 10 hours a day. He edited films with his right hand, and one of his caregivers took notes for him in lectures.

Jack Ofield, head of the school's Film and Television Department, said Goodman was well-known on campus and received a standing ovation when he graduated.

``The department and everyone was just in awe of his ability to do something that people who are walking around (with) the full use of all their limbs have a challenge of doing it well,'' Ofield said.

While in San Diego, Goodman sold a story to Fox's ``Malcolm in the Middle.'' In the episode, which aired in April 2002, one of the characters tries to win the affections of a girl by faking a terminal illness. The ruse is familiar territory for Goodman.

``I did that several times - it works,'' he said.

A different strategy won him his first girlfriend, whom he met at a movie theater.

``I would go there every day, and it got to the point where I sent her roses every day for 30 days and she finally went out with me,'' Goodman said. ``I was determined.''

Goodman's life has narrowed since his move to Burbank. He is especially sensitive to smog, so he rarely goes out. When he does, it's to see a movie, going in his wheelchair with a caregiver to one of the movie theaters in Burbank. He must return to his iron lung about every two hours.

Despite the heat and the bad air, Goodman has no plans to leave.

``You have to be in L.A. to be a (script) writer,'' he said.

Despite his success with ``Malcolm in the Middle,'' Goodman is more interested in writing for film than television. One of his most recently completed scripts is a fantasy called ``Heroes and Legends,'' and the other script he has on the market is about time travel.

Minneapolis-based producer Patrick Wells, who co-produced ``I Love You to Death,'' and produced ``Youngblood,'' said he has great faith in Goodman's talent.

Goodman's ``Time Jumper'' script is funny stuff, said Wells, who is shopping it around Hollywood.

``Comedy's hard to write,'' Wells said. ``And it was very funny and it was heartfelt as well.''

Looking on the bright side of life has become a specialty for Goodman, who is very aware of the struggles he has overcome.

``Every second means something to me. Every second is so precious and valuable,'' he said.

Alex Dobuzinskis, [phone]

alex.dobuzinskis(at)dailynews.com

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1) Caregiver Marco Moreno adjusts screenwriter John Bradford Goodman's head as he is placed in his iron lung at his home in Burbank.

(2) John Goodman, who must spend 16 hours each day in the medical device, still finds time to write and sold a story to ``Malcolm in the Middle'' for an episode in 2002.

John McCoy/Staff Photographer