by Laura Garber
Limitations never occurred to Casey Rohrer. Bound by a wheelchair and reliant on an eye-gazing communication device, Rohrer, the late playwright and accessibility activist, accomplished notable changes to his community. His dedication to doing so was evident in the accessibility playground at South Park.
The nature-inspired playground, located on Valley Drive, features a winding accessible pathway that weaves among concrete slides and braided rope obstacle courses.
“All kids can play together now,” Rohrer said at the South Park ribbon cutting in 2016, using his Tobii C12, the eye-gazing communication device. To the audience’s amusement, Rohrer humorously unrolled a length of toilet paper when he mentioned his extensive list of thank yous.

Rohrer passed away at the age of 20 due to complications from cerebral palsy in 2023. But not without leaving his impact.
On Monday Nov. 24, South Park was officially renamed the Casey Rohrer Accessibility Park in honor of Rohrer’s commitment to accessibility throughout Hermosa Beach.
Designed to be a nature-forward playground, the park integrates rocky elements and greenery with accessible paths. The intention is to allow children of all abilities to play together.
“He believed that every playground should be a place where everyone could play together, not just the ablebodied, not just the strong and the fast, but every child, in every form of movement, communication and joy,” Rohrer’s father, Matt, said at the dedication ceremony.
“This is a place that reflects the very best of Hermosa Beach: compassion, inclusion and the collective power of the community,” Mayor Rob Saemann said during the ceremony.
Rohrer received a Tobii C 112 speaking device in second grade. That’s when his ideas for the community came in full force.
“If I could write everything I am thinking, my words would reach to the sky,” Rohrer said in a 2016 documentary about a play he had written.
“It was like watching a door to the world open,” Matt Rohrer said on Monday Nov 24. “Suddenly, the thoughts that had been building inside of him for so many years came pouring out, thoughtful, funny, creative, compassionate, and once Casey found his voice, he used it not just for himself, but more importantly for others.”

South Park Moms, a community-led organization, sought to turn an uncommissioned skate rink into the accessible park. Between planning and fundraising, the project took them over 10 years to unveil by 2016.
“The irony is that, we thought, when this is finally done, our kids won’t want to be in the park,” Jessica Guheen, a former Parks and Recreation Commissioner and member of South Park Moms said.
Many of the park’s design elements came from local students at View and Valley schools, who submitted ideas of a “dream park” during a planning session nearly a decade ago.
By forgoing metal playground equipment in favor of dirt and sand, Beth Rohrer said in an Easy Reader article from 2015, kids are more likely to get creative.
“The idea is that the kids use their imaginations more,” she said.
Kelly Mulvilhill, whose son became friends with Rohrer in kindergarten, recalled Rohrer’s impact on the students around him.
“These children are just changed, all of them from having Casey in their lives,” she said. “They’re all gonna go forth in the world, this generation of kids who have this resilience, this joy and this love because they had Casey in their lives.”
Barbara Ellman, a Parks and Recreation Commissioner, recalled Rohrer’s sense of humor and impact on his community.
“He left life and his family far too soon, but he was able to leave an indelible mark on all of us, a mark that we not only remember, but that we can enjoy every day,” she said. “This area is just one shining example of his impact and I just like to remind everyone once again, it takes a village. Beth (Rohrer’s mother) and the South Park Moms worked with Friends at the Park, and here we are at a park that is truly accessible to everyone, all because a boy had a dream.”
“A playground like this is more than a place to climb and swing and play,” Matt Rohrer said. “It’s a living example of what happens when we choose empathy over exclusionion and creativity over convenience. Every child who plays here, and every family who gathers here is participating in Casey’s story.” ER



