But outside of Israel and the world of disabled athletes, too few people know about those efforts.

That at least was the thinking of a Chicago man, Stuart Nitzkin, who earlier this year became the ISCD's new national director. Now his hope is to raise the organization's profile while raising funds for it both in Chicago and the rest of the country.

The Sports Center, which sits on four acres outside of Tel Aviv, was founded in 1960 to provide recreational opportunities for the thousands of polio victims who had become disabled before a polio vaccine was available. Sports for the disabled was practically an unheard-of concept, Nitzkin says, and the center - at first run by a group of volunteers - pioneered it.

Today the facility benefits about 1,000 adults and more than 1,500 children a year and has a staff of 250, along with 170 volunteers. The clients are either born disabled or are victims of terror attacks - sadly, many fall into the latter category. Sports they can participate in include basketball, tennis, table tennis, swimming, racing, judo, rugby, gymnastics, track and field, cycling and more. The center also provides social activities like choir and dances, along with medical and psychological services, for its young charges. (Visit www.iscd.com to learn more.)

Nitzkin, who previously worked in the building industry, became interested in the center about three years ago when he happened to see a video about it. "I'm not disabled and I don't know a ton of people who are, but I felt a connection to it," he said in a recent phone conversation. "I loved that the center was small. If I wrote a check for a hundred dollars, they would go out and use it towards a wheelchair. With some organizations, they cut it up 10 ways."

He decided to put together an advisory board and hold a poker fund-raiser. "We threw it together and got about 120 people and raised $30,000," he says. The third poker event, held earlier this year, raised more than $90,000 from 200 participants.

The center receives less than one percent of its funding from the government and runs almost entirely on private donations, Nitzkin notes.

Last year, he says, he told leaders of the center, "You have this amazing story to tell. Why don't you have someone go to all the cities, put together an advisory board in different cities and run an event to raise awareness in 10 or 20 cities? They said, if you're willing to do it, try it. We can't pay you a lot.

"I had been in the building business and I wanted to do something more with my life," he says.

He took the job and since summer has traveled all over the country talking to locals and putting together events to showcase the work of the center. So far his efforts have been bearing fruit, he says. Cleveland and Louisville, Ky. have scheduled events and Washington, D.C., Los Angeles and Detroit are in the planning stages. Next on his travel schedule are New York, Dallas and St. Louis. For each event, several youths from the center attend to show guests how much progress they have made with the help of the ISCD.

"Our goal is not to make elite athletes or Olympic champions, but to integrate disabled children into the normal circles of society in Israel when they grow up," Nitzkin explains to supporters everywhere he goes. "We use sports as leverage for gaining self-confidence, a sense of competitiveness and the ability to cooperate and work together in teams. People never graduate ISCD because they grow up to become adult members." Graduates have become lawyers, doctors, accountants, professional athletes and more, he says.

In Chicago, the year's big event is set for 11 a.m.-1 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 22 at Ravinia Green Country Club in Riverwoods. It's free and open to all and includes a brunch, silent auction and chance to meet with some of the center's disabled athletes. (Of course, Nitzkin is hoping for some donations as well.) To RSVP, e-mail stu.nitzkin@gmail.com or call (773) 875-2425.

And no doubt Nitzkin will give guests the message that he has been trying to get out all over the country: "The organization is incredible, but no one has ever heard of us." In Chicago at least, he hopes that's no longer true.