In His Own Unique Way: Charlotte Fire and Autism Acceptance

Published on April 03, 2026

Nate Powell holds his son, Benjamin, in a tight hug inside Firehouse 42

Nate Powell holds his son, Benjamin, in a tight hug inside Firehouse 42, a moment that captures the bond at the heart of their family’s autism acceptance story. 

A Charlotte Fire family’s journey through autism acceptance  

 

April is Autism Acceptance Month, a time set aside not simply to raise awareness, but to encourage understanding, empathy and inclusion. For Firefighter Nate Powell of Engine 42, acceptance is not a campaign. It is daily life. It is fatherhood.    

At home, Nate and his wife, Sierra Powell, are raising their 7-year-old son, Benjamin. Ben was diagnosed with autism and ADHD at the age of 2.    

“When you hear autism at 2 years old, it’s overwhelming,” Nate said. “But that early diagnosis gave us time. It gave us options. It gave us hope.”    

Their pediatrician had begun noticing developmental differences during Ben’s first year and a half. By his two-year checkup, the concerns were clear enough to pursue testing. When the diagnosis came, it felt like a bombshell.  

Benjamin Powell sits at a table inside Firehouse 42, looking toward the camera as his dad,

Benjamin Powell sits at a table inside Firehouse 42, looking toward the camera as his dad, Firefighter Nate Powell, talks in the background 

“We didn’t know anybody who knew about autism,” Nate said. “We didn’t know anybody who had a family member with autism. We didn’t know anything about autism. The slower development of our baby was the last thing on our mind.”    

The news rocked them. The isolation was even harder.    

“It was the hardest thing ever to go through that alone,” he said.  

Ben did not begin talking until he was close to 5 years old. In his early years, communication came through repetition and movement. He would spin in circles, watch objects spin, touch his fingertips together. These repetitive motions, often called stimming, are common self-regulating behaviors for children on the spectrum.    

Where other children seemed to accelerate academically and socially, Nate describes Ben’s development as a flatter curve.  

 Firefighter Nate Powell walks hand in hand with his son, Benjamin, down a hallway at Firehouse 42.

Firefighter Nate Powell walks hand in hand with his son, Benjamin, down a hallway at Firehouse 42. 

“The whole goal is to close that gap,” he said. “He may never be at the typical level in most things in his life, but we’re going to do our darndest to get him as close as we can while maintaining who he is.”    

Therapy became a cornerstone of their lives. Speech therapy. Occupational therapy. Applied behavior analysis. Physical therapy. The Powells embraced every tool available.    

“They say it takes a village,” Nate said. “It’s taking the country at this point for us.”    

Each therapist, each specialist, each educator has left an imprint on Ben’s growth. And the transformation has been dramatic.  

“Where we started to where we are now is night and day,” Nate said. “He’s full of energy. Full of life. Full of love. He’s something else.”  

Benjamin Powell sits buckled into the captain’s seat inside an Engine 42 cab during a visit to Firehouse 42.

Benjamin Powell sits buckled into the captain’s seat inside an Engine 42 cab during a visit to Firehouse 42. 

Autism often brings sensory sensitivities that many people never see or understand. It can be the brightness of a room. The feel of a shirt tag. The color of carpet. The hum of a crowded store.   

Children on the spectrum may struggle to verbalize what is overwhelming them. When that pressure builds, it can present as what the outside world sees as a meltdown.    

“It’s not that they’re bad kids,” Nate said. “There’s just something going on.”    

At home, the Powells have learned Ben’s preferences. Shirt tags are cut out. He chooses his own clothes, down to the logo on his T shirt. He wears Crocs year-round. Socks in the winter are a parental victory. Shoes often come off the moment he reaches school.    

But outside the home, unpredictability reigns.  

Firefighter Nate Powell leans in close beside his son, Benjamin, during a quiet moment together.

Firefighter Nate Powell leans in close beside his son, Benjamin, during a quiet moment together. 

Nate has carried his son out of stores kicking and screaming, unsure what triggered the reaction. Sometimes, as soon as they step outside the threshold, the storm stops. Maybe it was the noise. Maybe the crowd. Maybe something invisible to everyone else.    

Along with the challenge often come the looks. The whispers. The comments under someone’s breath about parenting or discipline.    

“That takes a great toll on the parents,” Nate said. “There’s just one more person who doesn’t understand.”    

He is not asking the public to become experts.  

“I’m not asking anybody to educate themselves,” he said. “But at least be aware. Give a little grace.”    

Grace for the parent trying to decode a sensory overload in real time. Grace for the child whose nervous system is working overtime. Grace for the family navigating something you may not see.  

For Sierra, the weight can be especially heavy. There are days she hesitates to take Ben to the park alone, wondering how other children will respond when he runs up with an enthusiastic, “Hi, new friend.”  

Sierra Powell watches with a smile as Benjamin Powell shows her something on his phone.

Sierra Powell watches with a smile as Benjamin Powell shows her something on his phone. 

Nate, shaped by the demands of his profession, often leans into those moments.  

“I have no problem educating somebody on the spot,” he said.  

The couple made a promise to each other that they would not let another family feel as alone as they once did. If someone has questions, they will answer them. If a difficult conversation is needed, they will have it.  

“If you don’t know, you don’t know,” Nate said. “We’re open books.”

That commitment to openness has also led to action beyond their own family.

Nate-Powell_Austism-Routhier-Powell-Johnson-JPG.jpg

From left, Ignited Minds ABA owner Alan Routhier, Charlotte Firefighter Nate Powell and Charlotte Fire Chief Reginald Johnson hold a $12,531.47 check during a presentation at Firehouse 42. The funds were raised through Charlotte Fire’s Autism Awareness shirt fundraiser and will support children who struggle with verbal communication by providing essential devices and resources.

Charlotte Fire recently partnered with Ignited Minds ABA to support families navigating autism through a limited edition Autism Awareness shirt fundraiser. The initiative focused on raising both awareness and resources for children on the spectrum and the families who support them.

Through that effort, $12,531.47 was raised and presented during a check donation at Firehouse 42. Firefighter Nate Powell joined Charlotte Fire Chief Reginald Johnson in presenting the donation to Ignited Minds ABA owner Alan Routhier.

“These efforts are about more than awareness,” Johnson said. “They are about supporting families in a real and meaningful way. This partnership allows us to help provide resources that can make a difference in a child’s life and give families the tools they need to navigate that journey.”

Nate-Powell_Autism-Group-Shot-Firehouse-42.jpg

Members of Charlotte Fire gather with Benjamin Powell, his parents and Ignited Minds ABA at Firehouse 42, highlighting a shared commitment to supporting families and children on the autism spectrum.

The funds will be used to help purchase devices that support children who struggle with verbal communication, providing tools that allow them to better express their needs, thoughts and emotions.

For the Powell family, the impact of those resources is deeply personal.

For all the therapy sessions and public challenges, the heart of this story is not diagnosis. It is relationship.    

There was a time when Nate would come home after a 24-hour shift and Ben would barely look up, lost in his own world.  

Benjamin Powell relaxes at the firehouse, wearing a Charlotte Fire autism acceptance shirt

Benjamin Powell relaxes at the firehouse, wearing a Charlotte Fire autism acceptance shirt that reflects the family’s message of support and understanding. 

Now, the sound of the door is enough.    

“Dad’s home,” Ben announces with excitement.    

He runs to him, arms open, wrapping him in a hug that erases the fatigue of the shift. Then he grabs his father’s hand and leads him to the couch.    

“Dad, sit by you,” he says in his familiar third person way, pointing to the exact spot where he wants him.    

And in that small, ordinary moment, nothing else in the world matters.    

Ben often speaks in the third person, but his meaning is always clear. He wants his dad close. He wants to show him the videos he has edited on his iPad. Nate calls him a genius with technology.    

“He does stuff I can’t even fathom with basic editing software,” he said.    

Ben loves “adventures.” Grocery shopping is an adventure. The park is an adventure. The trampoline park is an adventure. Sometimes Sierra brings Ben to visit Nate at work for an adventure at the firehouse.    

In the quiet moments, the most powerful gestures are simple. Ben will come up out of nowhere, wrap his arms around his dad and say, “I love you.”    

“He knows that’s what you needed at the moment,” Nate said.  

Firefighter Nate Powell and Sierra Powell share a family moment with their son, Benjamin,

Firefighter Nate Powell and Sierra Powell share a family moment with their son, Benjamin, during a visit to Firehouse 42. 

There are hard days. Every parent understands that. But it always circles back.    

“It always circles back to him being that loving little boy,” Nate said. “He’s my little buddy. I wouldn’t have him any other way.”    

Autism Acceptance Month is about more than statistics or symbols. It is about seeing children like Ben not as problems to solve, but as people to understand.    

For the Powell family, acceptance means celebrating progress without erasing identity. It means closing developmental gaps where possible while honoring who Ben is in his own unique way.  

Benjamin Powell smiles beside the front of a Charlotte Fire Engine 42

Benjamin Powell smiles beside the front of a Charlotte Fire Engine 42 while visiting his dad, Firefighter Nate Powell, at Firehouse 42. 

It means cutting shirt tags out without complaint. It means carrying him out of a store when necessary. It means answering questions from strangers. It means giving and receiving grace.    

And it means recognizing that the little boy who once struggled to speak now runs toward the world with open arms and says, “Hi, new friend.”    

For a firefighter accustomed to running toward chaos, Nate Powell has found that some of the most meaningful courage happens quietly at home.    

In the hugs after a long shift.  In the patience during a meltdown.  In the choice to educate rather than retreat.  And in the unwavering love for a son who is exactly who he was meant to be.

Autism Awareness shirts supporting this initiative remain available, with proceeds continuing to benefit families and children on the autism spectrum. Shirts can be purchased by visiting the link provided.

Autism Awareness T-shirt