By: Lindsey Young

A few minutes prior, Walter had folded his long legs crisscross-applesauce style and interacted warmly with the young ones, helping them practice ASL signs for "more," "happy," "friend" and "excuse me." He reciprocated hugs and happily welcomed high-fives from tiny, sticky palms; he blew soapy bubbles and helped 2-year-old Ellis and others pop them as they floated to the carpet.

"You can tell he really loves kids. He seems to be in his element here," Katherine Szepieniec said of Walter.

Mother to 3-year-old Rosemary, who received an at-birth Down syndrome diagnosis, Szepieniec emphasized the impact GiGi's Playhouse has made on their family over the past year of involvement.

She noted the variety of programming available, all at no cost, and her appreciation for the community of those navigating a similar journey.

"It helps us learn and see what's typical for someone with Down syndrome versus always hearing, 'Oh, she's behind,' " Katherine said. "The music therapy has been really great for Rosemary. She loves music; she got a [toy] guitar for her birthday and is just in all her glory.

Katherine gestured toward Rosemary, whose entire hand wrapped around Walter's pointer finger as he helped guide her up the steps of a green plastic slide.

"Anytime I see someone like Walter who just 'gets it' is so wonderful," she said. "Plenty of people are out there who are maybe well-intentioned but just don't know what to say or do and don't always say [beneficial or appropriate] things. I'm sure he gets that. It's just wonderful when anyone with a platform is able to show that kids of all abilities have abilities."

If Walter looks in his element hanging at GiGi's Playhouse, it's because he is.

On any given day, he enjoys a visit to the achievement center to spend time with smiling faces of all ages — from Rosemary and Ellis to 36-year-old Peter Campion, whose eyes light up beneath round, thick-lensed glasses the moment he sees the towering Walter.

Every single one of them remind Walter warmly of his best friend and aunt, Therese — or "T.T.," as he always called her.

The older sister of Walter's mother, T.T. was diagnosed with Down syndrome at birth and given very little optimism from doctors and nurses.

So much less was known about the condition 60 years ago, Walter noted, and his grandparents were encouraged to say heartbreaking goodbyes to their firstborn daughter.

"It was like, 'Oh, this is a debilitating thing, there isn't much hope.' But she kept on living," Walter explained. "Then doctors said, 'Maybe give it a week, or a month.' And my grandmother finally said, 'You don't need to tell my daughter how long she's gonna live. She's gonna live just as long as she wants to.' "

T.T. went on to live 53 years before sadly passing away in 2017. And while Walter's heart still aches for her, he carries his Aunt T.T. with him wherever he goes.

"She lived more in those years than most people do in all their lives," he said. "She lived each day to the fullest."

As recently as 1983, the average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome was 25 years. That age has now increased to 60 years, largely due to the end of the inhumane practice of institutionalizing those diagnosed with the condition.

Down syndrome is a genetic disorder marked by a person having three copies of chromosome 21, rather than the typical two. Those individuals do experience physical and intellectual delays from birth, but there is a wide variety of abilities within the population that are impossible to predict ahead of time.

Those with Down syndrome often are recognized by distinct facial characteristics and other physical attributes. But Walter never looked at T.T. any differently.

"As a kid, you don't really even know what Down syndrome is, so to me, she was just a regular person — which she was," Walter said. "She may look a little different, sure, but everyone looks different. So growing up with T.T., she just looked normal to me."

An only child, Walter treasured any time spent with T.T., who lived with his grandparents — a 5-hour drive from him and his mother.

"We were just two peas in a pod, you know?"

Walter grinned broadly as he flipped mentally through a Rolodex of memories.

He'd watch Little House on the Prairie, T.T.'s favorite show, and she'd laugh at Doctor Who episodes with him. They enjoyed family visits to the lake house and trips to the Marbles Kids Museum with Walter's cousin Cody.

T.T. wanted to be a fashion designer, and she'd make drawing after drawing after drawing, pointing out to Walter the clothing celebrities would one day wear.

"We'd go to the movies together, the playground, go fishing or watch Hannah Montana in the back of the car on the DVD player," Walter laughed. "Eating together, cooking, making gingerbread houses and cookies together during Christmas.

"It was a tandem, me and her. Yin and Yang," he added.

Peter Campion's father Kevin first met Walter in December at the annual GiGi's Playhouse holiday party.

Like many of the parents who attended with their children, Peter was impressed by the Vikings rookie's presence and expected he'd likely hang out for 30 minutes or so.

"Walter danced for hours. Hours!" Kevin said, laughing.

"We could tell he was an athlete," Kevin's wife Barbara quipped. "But it was just so obviously how genuine Walter was. His interaction with the little ones, picking them up and dancing with them, and then his interaction with the adults, it was just so real."

Walter has built a special connection with Peter, who's become "a bit of a broken record," chuckles Barbara, about his new buddy.

"I have a lot of pictures of them together in my phone," Barbara said. "And it's not 'Walter the Vikings player.' It's just, 'Walter.' "

Added Kevin: "He's all-in. You can tell he grew up with someone with Down syndrome, because he's got empathy. He's got all those attributes he identified in his aunt and kind of brought with him. It's just so good."

Stacy Lilya has watched a similar scenario play out between Walter and her 18-year-old son Landon.

Stacy explained Landon struggles to feel comfortable in social situations, and he's often found it difficult to connect with others. His "friends" are the characters in TV shows he watches, such as Power Rangers, an absolute favorite.

And so one day, Walter used a shared knowledge of the action figures — and affinity for Red Ranger — to engage with the young man.

"He was so patient with Landon, because Landon doesn't really have that 'play' quality," Stacy explained before turning directly to Walter and adding, "So when you were so patient and waited 'til he came out of his shell, that was the coolest.

"You have a heart and a talent, and God sent you here," she added.

GiGi's Playhouse Executive Director Katherine Rebstock shares a gratefulness for Walter that each of the families has.

"I'm not sure I've ever met someone so authentic and real and caring," she said. "It's so evident that in his core and in his values is being there for other people. Walter has an unbelievable way of connecting with individuals with Down syndrome. With everyone, really. The way he looks at a person and talks to a person is with utmost character and respect."

Walter may spend the most time with those diagnosed with Down syndrome, but he's also speaking volumes to their family members.

"He helps people recognize that being around an individual with Down syndrome gives you qualities of being empathetic, compassionate, open-minded," Katherine said. "The fact that he had that relationship with his aunt and this is what's come of it, it's exactly what we're all hoping for, for our loved ones with Down syndrome."

Rebecca Dock has felt that inspiration for her 2-year-old daughter through Walter and other volunteers at GiGi's.

"I know she's going to have that effect or influence on other people she meets in her life," Rebecca said. "As parents, finding out your child has Down syndrome, one of my fears was, 'Will she have friends? Will people accept her and include her in things?' Coming to GiGi's Place, I don't have any of those fears. … It gives me a lot of hope and excitement for her future.

"It's really fun to see Walter, someone who has that important of a job, to care about our child and make her feel special," Rebecca added. "And to make us feel important and special."

In February, Walter attended GiGi's annual "Best of Us" gala, to which he arrived happily gussied up in a black tuxedo. He spoke that evening with a crowd of nearly 800 attendees, not only encouraging them to continue their support but also sharing the legacy T.T. had left.

"I wouldn't be who I am without her," he said. "Just being around her, seeing how she approached life. She … knew the greatest gift you can give someone is a smile."

T.T. would have loved to attend that gala, Walter said. She would have loved GiGi's Playhouse and would maybe even have moved to Minnesota with her "best friend" when he started his NFL career.

"I wish she could be here. I wish she could be here to see this," he said, his voice trailing off for a moment. "But I know she's looking down and smiling, telling everybody all about me.

"The way T.T. saw the world, that's how I approach the world — glass half-full. I choose to see the good in everyone at first, always giving them the benefit of the doubt," Walter said. "I appreciate the outlook I have. Even when things can feel so tough and so down, being able to find light in the darkness is, I think, amazing. And I just thank her for that."

March 21 is World Down Syndrome Day, selected to signify the uniqueness of the triplication of the 21^st chromosome.

To learn more about GiGi's Playhouse or ways you can get involved, click here.