COLUMBUS, Ohio (AP) -- With the sun setting and late-summer air cooling off nicely, an expectant crowd gathered in the stadium at Central Crossing High School, the rat-a-tat-thump of the marching band's drum cadence serving as a soundtrack.

Despite the picture-perfect evening, Hollie Wackernagle couldn't enjoy the start of football season.

Not yet, anyway.

Nervous and fidgety, the Grove City mother of two lingered at the front of the home-team bleachers, her fists clenched on the top bar of the chain-link fence.

Her 15-year-old daughter, a sophomore cheerleader, stood on the track squarely in front of the Central Crossing student section - where the rowdy level was noticeably rising as kickoff neared.

Though embraced by her fellow cheerleaders since joining the squad in the spring, Hannah Wackernagle had drifted beyond that safe harbor, so to speak, and into open water.

"I was worried about the student section," her mother said. "I was waiting for the first kid I was going to have to give a beat-down to for making fun of her."

Yet Hannah, who has Down syndrome, would need no such protection.

"Do the `Comet Rumble'!" a boy called out, referring to a popular cheer.

Instead, Hannah responded with a well-executed cartwheel, then looked up smiling.

"Yeah, that was good!" shouted the boy, clapping.

With that, her mother allowed herself to worry less about her daughter, one of few special-needs students nationwide who cheer on a varsity squad.

"This was the `in' crowd, and I was very afraid she would not be able to find her place," Hollie Wackernagle said. "But she has been accepted unconditionally."

Right from birth, in fact, acceptance has been a watchword of Hannah's life - ever since the day a doctor called her mother and father, Sean, to confirm the diagnosis of Down syndrome.

"I hung up the phone and told my husband (they have since divorced), and he said, `Well, instead of winning a gold medal in the Olympics, she'll win a gold medal in the Special Olympics,'??" Wackernagle recalled.

Informed early on that the more normally she treated Hannah, the more normal her daughter's life would be, she has sworn by the philosophy.

"I have high expectations, and she has to meet them."

In many ways, then, Hannah - the older of two girls -has grown into a typical teenager: She spends lots of time in her room, watching television and listening to music; and she memorizes lyrics of songs by Lady Gaga, Beyonce and favorite group Big Time Rush.

Several years ago, her mother signed her up for the special-needs cheerleading squad at the Cheer Center in Grove City. Hannah enjoyed it so much that Wackernagle approached Central Crossing's cheerleading coach, Amber Furlong, in the spring.

Tryouts for the 2011-12 school year were approaching. Could Hannah give it a shot?

"I said, `Most definitely,'??" Furlong said. "I have a cousin who is autistic who tries to be as involved in school as he can, so I could certainly give this opportunity to someone else."

Hannah began working out with the team in preparation for tryouts. Within two days, she had established her ability to do almost all the required jumps and motions, but she tired more easily than the others.

"I was actually surprised because she was good," senior Maddy Chilton said. "Even though she would learn it slower, she was actually good at it."

Simultaneously, Hannah's infectious personality had made a quick impression.

"She brings a lot of spirit to our team because she's always upbeat and always happy," senior Kaylee Vanscoy said. "The rest of us will be tired or not so happy, and she just brings our spirit up."

Her mother can appreciate the sentiment: "It sounds corny, but Hannah just glows happy. The world loves Hannah; she's a people magnet."

Of her teammates, Hannah said, "I have lots of friends."

Although Hannah hadn't mastered every routine before the tryouts, Central Crossing athletic director Zoraba Ross - in consultation with Furlong - had already decided that Hannah would make the team. His decision, Ross said, was affected by a visit that several cheerleaders made to his office to lobby on her behalf.

"Of course I said yes," he said. "I believe in giving kids an opportunity, and I thought it was a beautiful thing that our students wanted to include her. It showed that our kids understand that life goes way beyond athletics and they had the maturity to look at that bigger picture."

Neither Furlong nor Steve Glesenkamp, cheerleading coordinator for the region's 32-team Ohio Capital Conference, knows of any other special-needs varsity cheerleader in central Ohio.

Bill Presson has heard of only a few special-needs students on varsity squads.

The vice chairman emeritus of the U.S. All-Star Federation special-needs committee, an organization that oversees special-needs cheerleading squads such as Hannah's at the Cheer Center, supports such "mainstream" integration but with a caveat.

"If they are able to meet the standards, I am 100 percent in favor," Presson said. "But you have to treat them with dignity. You can't put athletes in a position where you're just patting them on the head and saying, `Aren't you adorable?'??"

Hannah's mother didn't want that, either.

She and coach Furlong reached an agreement: Because Hannah hadn't yet learned all the complex dance routines, she would participate in the chants at the beginning of each half of Central Crossing's first game (against Mifflin), then spend the rest of the game helping Furlong.

As time goes on, Hannah's role might expand as she learns more.

On a recent Friday night, Hannah had a cheering section of her own: her mother; her 9-year-old sister, Lily; two aunts (Samantha Davis and Amy Haynes); two cousins (Brianna and Miranda Davis); and her mother's boyfriend, Tom Estep.

Also on hand were her Cheer Center coach, Hollie Hatfield, and one of her teachers, Mandy Corbett, as well as several of Hannah's special-needs classmates.

Excited, Hannah waved to the familiar faces in the stands and sometimes ran over for hugs. She stood on the track with the rest of her team and went through a half-dozen cheers as the game began.

She tired a bit as the night wore on, sitting out some of the cheers she was supposed to do. Despite a halftime snack of nachos with her mother, she was clearly exhausted for much of the second half.

Hannah's presence, Furlong said, has helped all the cheerleaders.

"Hollie sat down with them (in the summer) and said, `You know, this is going to be a highlight of her (Hannah's) life,'??" Furlong said. "All these girls have college, marriage, children - all these things they can look forward to - and she doesn't necessarily have those things.

"And I think it has brought some humility and some selflessness to some of these girls, that they're thinking about others and how they can improve other people's lives."

Near the end of the game, fellow cheerleader Megan Thompson approached Hannah, who was sitting in a chair by the bleachers.

"Do you want to do a cheer with us?" Megan asked.

Hannah nodded.

"Which one do you want to do?" Megan asked.

Hannah joined the team in two cheers of her choosing before sitting back down.

The gesture of inclusion touched her mother.

After the game, as the cheerleaders walked down the track toward the exit, Wackernagle reveled in the fact that, at such moments, her daughter is just another cheerleader, a typical teenage girl.

"When she (Hannah) was a baby, I used to rock her and stare at her face and pray for acceptance," she said.

"I think those prayers have been answered tenfold."

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Information from: The Columbus Dispatch, http://www.dispatch.com