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Craig Hall is instantly likable. It’s not just his easy smile or his
larger-than-life personality. It’s his ability to live every day with
a no-holds-barred attitude. He doesn’t dwell on what some may call
imperfections; instead, he uses them to his advantage.
So what, he says, if he stutters? “I have told my folks that God tried to make me
mute,” Hall says, “but maybe this is just a shoulder
wound.”
When Hall first ran for the office of District 7
representative on the Sangamon County Board, his challenger called his
“problem” into question. Hall fired back with a new campaign
slogan telling voters that he was “not just another fast-talking
politician.” Ten years later, he’s still on the board and
recently joked with a reporter that he believes that fighting to get words
out should be a prerequisite for officeholders — especially after
watching Gov. Rod Blagojevich in action.
It hasn’t always been easy for Hall, who
remembers being teased mercilessly by other kids on the school bus for not
only his stutter but also for his flaming-red hair.
Some of his teachers didn’t help matters, Hall
says. His first- and second-grade instructor — a sister at the
now-closed St. Mary’s Catholic School in New Berlin — tried to
discipline the stutter out of him. His public-speaking teacher at Sacred
Heart-Griffin High School wanted to give him a free pass, he recalls,
telling him that he could just hand in his speech instead of reading it
aloud like the other students.
But even then Hall wasn’t about to let
insecurity stand in his way. He went to class the next day and asked
whether he could give his speech anyway. His five-minute speech took 15
minutes, Hall says, but the effort was worth it; he wanted his parents to
know that he was taking full advantage of his pricey private-school
education.
Hall, who grew up on a dairy farm in Loami and now
manages one of his own, credits his parents and neighboring families for
his positive attitude and his sense of humor. He knows all of the good
stuttering jokes, he confirms.
“Honestly, I think it makes you a better
person,” Hall says. “You have flaws, so you can look past other
people’s flaws.”
He decided to jump into county politics, he says, to
give back to the people in his area who supported and encouraged him, as
well as to prove that they shouldn’t let trivialities hold them back.
Even though attendees sometimes think that the
microphone is malfunctioning when he’s talking, Hall says with a
laugh, he speaks his piece at County Board meetings and even serves as the
chairman of the civil-liabilities committee, which monitors all liability
claims filed against Sangamon County.
“I get to argue with people who argue for a
profession,” Hall says. “I bet it’s kind of embarrassing
when a stuttering farmer kicks your butt in court.”

In the past couple of years Hall has also signed on
as a lobbyist for the National Stuttering Association — even though
he hung up on them the first couple of times reps from the association
called because he thought it was his brother pulling a prank. His main job
is speaking to lawmakers about issues with insurance. Most companies
consider stuttering a preexisting condition and don’t offer any
coverage for treatment.

He’s met with other stutterers who are
defensive of their speech and heard horror stories about people who
won’t order out at restaurants or even use drive-thru windows.
He’s been invited to speak at area schools and says he wants to
continue to send the message that that attitude isn’t good enough.

“Don’t let anyone tell them that they
can’t do something,” Hall says, “because I wouldn’t
be who I am if it wasn’t for the people who helped me through my
childhood.”

Contact Amanda Robert at arobert@illinoistimes.com

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