In most horse movies, the equine star is headstrong, broken or both. Who will help the horse survive and win?

The story of Michelle Akers has all that drama, plus a role reversal and a flood.

In her former life, she was one of America’s best soccer players — an unsparing, 5-foot-10 scoring machine with Olympic gold from Atlanta and a World Cup MVP award.

Her new life began last year when she moved into an eight-acre farm in Powder Springs, brought her preschool son and five horses from Florida, and began pursuing her dream of nursing abused horses back to health.

“I just kind of like thought I’d have room to breathe for the horses,” she said. “And supposedly less work for me.”

Last fall’s catastrophic rains made her creek rise.

And rise.

And rise.

No longer was Akers the supporter — she was the one who suddenly needed help. What began as a geographic and career move ended up reinventing her view of her own strength and others’ power to help.

Farm and flood

Akers, 44, bought the farm for lush pastures fed by the creek.

“Usually that’s the only farm around here with grass,” said Laurie Wilson, 45, Akers’ college soccer friend and horse trainer who lives four miles away. “No one could have foreseen what happened.”

As a child, Akers loved “The Black Stallion,” which opens with the titular horse surviving a shipwreck. Rushing water and panicked horses also starred in Akers’ sudden nightmare.

“There was belly-deep water,” Akers said. “I thought, ‘This is scary.’ I remember a story about a woman near [Aker’s hometown of] Seattle who swam out to rescue her horses. You can tell the measure of the relationship if they come with you. ... And mine trusted me enough.”

Akers took the horses to neighbors on higher land, her second rescue for mare Zoe, 30, who before Akers adopted her had been found nearly buried alive.

Reinventing her property, and philosophy, began.

The damage “was shocking,” recalled Akers’ husband, Steve Eichenblatt, who remained based in Florida to sell their home and for his law practice and children from an earlier marriage.

“We had gone through Hurricane Charlie when we first got married, and we just got hammered, and now Michelle moves up to Powder Springs and nature welcomes her with a similar event.”

Support from nearby

Akers’ first line of repair began with neighbor Mike Wilson (no relation to Laurie), a state-licensed general contractor.

Wilson, 50, had grown up in rainy Seattle kicking rock-heavy wet soccer balls, just as Akers had. He vaguely recognized her, then totally clicked when he saw her basement full of memorabilia and the American flag.

“Watching the women’s U.S. team was always more exciting than the men’s,” he said. “It’s like college football, so much more exciting than the pros. The cast of characters they had with Michelle was so unique, and they kept going and winning.”

What Akers discovered, through him, was how much her inspector had missed. Debris blocked ditches and trenches. What looked dry to the eye was, below the surface, bordering the water table. Soon, winter turned the saturation to ice.

“Zoe is my horse that’s older and fragile, and she got an infection in her feet,” Akers said. “Then she injured her feet in the frozen mud and started cribbing [an anxious behavior]. It was like when she had been starved and abused before.”

Akers’ trauma lasted, too. Her right knee, operated on so often that she lost count, hung together on one ligament. She had beaten chronic fatigue syndrome in the 1990s, but her Georgia setbacks almost broke her.

“She has the pain tolerance and threshold that most people don’t have, but one or two times she felt beaten down enough to cry,” Laurie Wilson said. “As tough as she was in soccer, she was the same way with this. She pushed herself super hard, whether it was weed whacking or playing China.”

Wrote Akers on her blog: “I think if only I could have 5 minutes back on the soccer field to take out my frustration on some Viking Norwegian, that would surely make me feel a whole lot better.”

To settle down Zoe, Akers reunited the herd. To help her son Cody cope, Akers reassured him that the trouble would one day pass. Her goal was to finish one task a day.

Then the familiar herd from her old life — soccer supporters — showed up in her new one.

Fan support

Like many in Cobb County, Akers had no flood insurance because her property was not in a flood plain. She intended to auction her memorabilia, but her agent intervened with a press release. Her plight was picked up by national media.

The mail brought $50,000 and counting.

“Some people give $5, some $5,000,” she said. “It’s humbling to get help from people. ... Most of them were like, ‘Thank you for what you’re doing for the horses,’ or ‘You were inspiring as a soccer player, keep it up.’ ”

On Tuesday, Akers is scheduled for a knee osteotomy, a surgery to shift the weight on her bad knee. Once she no longer hobbles, she will resume doing the same for needy horses.

“When I was growing up, my belief was that if you work hard, you get what you want,” said Akers, who retired in 2001. “I didn’t totally get it until now, and after I was sick for so many years: You can work hard, but there are things you can’t control, and then what do you do?”

The flood and her helpers showed her this answer:

“You have to surrender to circumstances, to the things you can’t control, and work on what you can. Working through all that gives life deeper meaning and appreciation for the smaller blessings that come to you during this time. ... You just have to never give up. This will not be going on forever and ever and ever. And even if it does, you can get something from it. It’s up to you to find out what it is.”

If you have an idea for this series on reinvented lives, contact michelle.hiskey@ gmail.com.

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