See What I See
Memoirs of a “Blink”
By Terry L Miller
Composed and Edited From
March 16th. 2006
Through November 15th. 2023
All Rights Reserved
PREFACE
Anyone establishing themselves as a writer—must at first test their skills on familiar ground. With this, I may therefore provide an account of my life’s experiences which spans the second half of the Twentieth Century. then onward toward more recent events—Thus recounting a variaty of achievements. Yet, all of it in the face of “Blindness.” Though more spacificly—where its seemingly “Social-barriers” had 0involved certain aspects, revealing problem solving methods—relating to “Visual imparement.” Therefore, had in a powerful way, brings to light, fond- memories regarding “boyhood powels.” Including those Visually Impaired compatriots from my youth; leading toward others in my life. And thereby serving as a motivating-force behind each of these endeavours.
So whith such thaughts in Mind, these things must therefore demonstrate a sense of unity of purpose; while encouraging those of us who are devoted to the affairs of Blindness—pertaining to Visual-imparement; along with its unique awareness, it engenders.
However, within these pages, I attempt to illustrate exactly how “visually challenged” individuals, must (and quite often do) while attempting to engage those persevering attitudes—while at the same time, may therefore incorporate their own inward skills. Thus fostering its problem-solving methods; while enabling additional Blind and Visually-impaired individuals—to compete on an equal footing with their sighted peers.
Moreover, all of these experiances had availed me the opportunity to travel to local and state and National-meetings. And where its Semi-annual Conventions, through such deliberations, orchestrated its vital-opproach; by establishing a variety of challenges involving actions—dealing with current issues that face Blind and Visually Impaired citizens on a variety of levels.
So, to this Day, it is where both Local and National awairness continues to surmount a variety of independent living and mobility skills; thereby bolstering its education and employment matters. But also is where our Visually Challenged constituents were fortunantly able to achieve primary exposure to a number of hands-on demonstrations —involving a wide variety of Computer equipment. Thus learning fundamentle aspects by learning specialized “screen-reading software.” And at the same time, testing further development of “speech processing tools. Where these “High-Tec displays had often demonstrated the latest improvements pertaining to its hardware and Software applications,“ known to us as “Access Technology” –becoming only one of many Computer innovations.
Yet, a great example of this involves the use of “refresshable Braille.” -–which is defined as a form of raised dot patterns that are displayed on a grid. So therefore is electronically actuated. And yet, out of its techno-capability, allows for it to be read, in engeniouse way. And as a new kind of approach involved the process of writing Braille onto the new flat touch-screen designs, among portable Tablet PCs; including the latest Apple IOS Devices. Just as its Braille Code was displayed in such a way—for it to be read in a tactile manner; where its specialized “haptic-equipment”—used for this purpose, still remaines an expensive proposition.
However, within the last few years—both methods for either reading or writing Braille ( using a translation processe) was achieved—whereupon its Printedable-Text, may also be converted into any desired Braille format. And alternatively—enables a Visually Impaired Person to gain instantaneous access to a variety of printed textual layouts. Thus bringing to bear a “Virtual Cloud-based interface. All of this allows for its writing software to be “ mapped” by way of its aproprerate keyboard (where any other kind of imput device) may also mimick the “Perkin’s Design” (six-key layout). it therefore matters not where the fingers are placed on the windowed display; because the Keys themselves (via its Software) may be routed to each of three fingers by both hands. And it is through these methods, where the resulting written text can be accessed via a “speech engine”—while its universal design; allows for a large number of end-user interface applications to be emplimented. Thus benefiting a great many blind users—well into the future.
In short, its “Networking Services” can, as well, include verious “Access Technologists, by establishing a platform—incorporating the latest Web-Design methods. Where we may see a day when all “off the shelf” components, from “mainstream” Computer Product Developers—will finally be designed, with everyone in mind.
But I should point out here, that The “Digital Lifestyle” theme will be discussed in greater detail, in Section Four, of Chapter Eleven. However, it remains apparent to this Writer, that this type of technical capability; where it aptly demonstrates that Disability and Blindness—need not be viewed as tragic—but being that of the means of drawing upon the inner strengths of one’s self, working together as a collective will, for the benefit and equality of all. Though the real fact is that technology notwithstanding; remains precisely—where this Volume mostly may represent my particular vantage point, whith its unique opportunity—by telling a story of challenge and achievement; and yes—one of personal reward.
And through such efforts, I composed this work almost entirely from memory, noting events as they come to mind—by setting down these thoughts; just as they had naturally unfolded. Thusly serving as a means of recounting those “precious gems” before they fade over time. Furthermore, it’s my belief that each of us maintains a grand volume of memories hidden inside, waiting to be written. Although the challenge begs the question; how many of us are bold enough to commit ourselves to written prose; for there is much to be gained with the effort. So, if there are any inaccuracies as to fact, they are the fault of my own. And yet, I strove to remain honest, But not at the expense of analyzing, editorializing, or delving deeply into one another’s perticular motives and personal affairs.
And with this, I have come to find that it is a true aspect of life’s unique circumstances; including an individual’s positive efforts—toward that end. While at the same time, provide for its tantalizing intrigue throughout life’s drama. So it is written (within the scope of this narrative) Quote) ” I seem to have developed from an early age, the ability to divine a person’s character, more than anything else. And thusly built on their positive attributes.” Though indeed, this endeavour is testament; yet serveing as a lasting tribute by these remarkable individuals—who are carefully woven within the tapestry of this Volume; for there are many that figure in the vaunted details, of the telling therein
Terry L Miller—November 15th. 2023
CONTENTS
BOOK ONE
The Path Begins
ONE
”I Came Home in a Shoebox!
1.1. Early Modesto; (as gathered from “the “history of Modesto—Website)
1.2. Early Education
1.3. “Sherry and Terry”
1.4.”Terrible Terry”
—TWO
”Don’t Call Me Bamby!”
2.1. “Out Of Your Sox and in Your Jocks”
2.2.”Blindisms”
2.3. “Gokey’s Chow”
2.4. Panasonic—RQ 1O2-S
2.5. Wrestling
2.6. “Creature Features”
THREE-
-
”Va- Va Voome!”
3.1. Dancing In the Sky
3.2. “Moon Fire”
3.3. Reasonable Accommodations
3.4. “OJT”
3.5. “Dancing in the Dark”
3.6. SCUBA Diving
3.7. Eye to Eye
–-FOUR
—
“Shooting Star and the Banana Lady”
4.1. MJC
4.2. My First Real Job
4.3. Leaving the Nest
4.4. “I Want to Bug Your Thinking”
4.5. “But I’ll learn To Love Him?”
4.6. “The Modesto Blind-Spots”
4.7. “Are You A Turtle?”
—FIVE
”Set One Left”
5.1. O&M
5.2. “Tool Logic”
5.3. Coping
5.4. “Bead Pushing”
5.5. “Let The Show Begin!
5.6. The Moment of Truth
SIX
”Let’s Get It Did”!
The Modesto Adult-Blind Club and
Stanislaus Association of the Blind
(1930’s through the 1990’s)
6.1. Funding the Group
6.2. John Strong
6.3. The Old Cavell
6.4. “Stix”
SEVEN
“A Follin Star”
7.1. “All God’s Critters”!
7.2. “Life of a Pioneer”
7.3. Moving Out—Moving-In—Near the Old Mill Café
7.4. “Orange Kool-Aid Spaghetti”
7.5. MBBA
7.6. Slow Ball, Fast Ball
-–EIGHT—
Moving-On, “BEP”
(1978—to 1982)
8.1. The Girl Up-stairs
8.2. Vendor Neophytes”
8.3. Buds Old-fashioned Ice Cream
8.4. Dry/Wet Vending
8.5. “Young Man, I Can Piss Coffee Stronger than You Can Make it”!
8.6. “Ayatollah Cola!”
8.7. “Terry’s Cafeteria”
8.8. Bewildered Blink
8.9. “Lost, But Not Truly gone
BOOK TWO
A Rising Star
-–NINE—
A Phoenix Rises From the Ashes
9.1. “Dial-a-Ride”
9.2. Beach Party’s
9.3. “In The Mountains of the Moon”
9.4.” Dial-a-while”
9.5. High Tech
9.6. “Worlds of Opportunity
9.7. Amid The nudes
TEN
Guide Dogs…
Patrick—“A Four-Footed Friend”
(1982 through 1987)
10.1. Dorm Life
10.2. The Juno Routine
10.3. “Hay Guy, You got four on the floor, with lots of overdrive”!
10.4. The Awful Egg!
10.5. Patrick’s Grand Entrants
10.6. Patters and the “Swainkie Frankie”
10.7.” Spooky’s next stiff Christmas”
10.8. That Beckoning Call
ELEVEN
Advocacy
11.1. The Coalition
11.2. “The Breaking Barriers Show”
11.3. Sweetman Systems
11.4. “The Digital Lifestyle—” An Open Letter To Independent Living
Adult Blind Professionals: By Mike Calvo (2001 to Present)
11.5. Nikolai
11.6. “Friends under the Sunshine”
11.7. U.C.P.A, Stanislaus
11.8. Needs Assessment Survey
11.9. Hot dog Vending Carte
11.10. Mirror, Mirror!
11.11. Dog Guide Discrimination
11.12. “Lost Highway”
—TWELVE
Patty—“No Leg to Stand On”
(1993, through 1996)
12.1. “The Shortest Day and the Longest Night”
12.2. Bible Study Group”
12.3. Folk Song
12.4. Braille Literacy”
12.5. The Golden Rule Award
12.6. No Goodbyes
THIRTEEN
“Set, Ready, Pitch”!
Beep Baseball:
(1991, thru 2000)
13.1. “A Whole New Ballgame”
13.2. Promoting the League at the Modesto A’s, John Thurman Field
13.3. The San Francisco, 1989 Loma-Preetta Earthquake
–-FOURTEEN—
“Star Voyager”
(1997 to present)
14.1. Moving to Salida
14.2. “This Is KC6TVI”
14.3. Space Video Library
14.4. Apollo 11—the Main Event
14.5. “Encore Colombia”!
—FIFTEEN—
A French Twist
(2001 to present)
15.1. Life Turns on a Dime”
15.2. “Lucienne, “Where Were You, Twenty-five Years Ago”!
15.3. “We started with a Broom and a Bucket;”
15.4. “Ah—Mushrooms”; or (Le Champignon)
15.5. Gaelic, a Mismatch Companion
15.6. “This New House”
15.7. “Safe Haven”
SIXTEEN
Traveling Abroad
16.1. More God’s Critters—Lance and Cheyenne
16.2. Hopping the Pond”, Again and Yet Again
–-SEVENTEEN—
“All Those Issues in the Tissues
17.1. A Cat’s Purr
17.2. “Healing Properties of the Frequency of a Cat’s purr
BOOK THREE
Surmising’s
PART ONE
“Outside the Time-Domain”
Into the Labyrinth of Reality
PART TWO
The Harmony of Science and Faith
–-One—
“I Came Home in a Shoebox!”
People these days seem to be somewhat disenchanted based upon a variety of scruples, surrounding their identity. Including their Family heritage, and even through issues associated with their given Name; However, I’m quite fortunate and therefore proud of my background. So by the same token—remaining personally happy, living within my own skin. And So from this viewpoint, may begin Saying that I was named by my parents Leonard and Doris Miller; giving me the name of Terry Lynn Miller. Where in fact, the middle name “Lynn was derived from my Dad’s first name. Although we were a large Mormon family; where I was born on August 5th, 1953, in Modesto California. I even had four sisters; but sadly, one Sister named Linda-Lee died just three weeks after her birth, due to a deformed Heart-valve. Although fortunate having two brothers, with two more sisters and one brother that came later.
But to really begin this Story—I should tell of the time when the Family moved from Ogden Utah to Stanislaus County, in California’s Central Valley. Although this move to new surroundings originally began in the latter part of 1945. Precisely at the time when Mom was pregnant with her second child, Victoria Marlene—usually called Vicki. And through those years, Dad had his heart set on starting a Jewelry Business somewhere in the California Central Valley—ending up in the Small City of Modesto. And yet, as a matter of course—the idea of coming to California originally was developed through an arrangement made from a friend of my Dad’s, who was a Pilot. However, over time their plans were firmed up, while Dad and his friend were visiting another Business Associate –who was recuperating from an unspecified Illness—at a local Hospital.
Curissly, my Father, born of Pioneering stalk and perhaps, had stemmed from our famous Great, Great Grandfather, James S Brown; who was a Member of the Mormon Battalion. And among many other things, was found to be at Sutter’s Mill; which was exactly at the moment where the “great Gold discovery” had taken place.
Yet, interesting enough, Grandpa Brown will actually relate this pioneer tail through his own quaint words, which aptly describes his illustrious exploits—appearing later in this Volume. I mearly took some liberty of copying a portion of a perticuler Chapter—originally Published from Grandfather’s Journel. where he described his account of the time when he was with James Marshal, when his Company of Men were building the Saw and grist Mill at Sutter’s establishment. Which of cors, was at the very time of the Gold discovery—in California; way back in early 1848.
But It just happined to be about 100 years later, as my Father’s yearning; much the same as as was the case whith our own Great-grandfather. And where such things, had evidently involved a form of pioneering tradition. After all, my Father possessed a special type of Spirit. So up to this point—this kind of spirit (I’m quite shure) had indeed been gently nudging him toward its pervervial “new-horizons.”
So Dad—along with the other men; came up with the great idea of using a small plane to fly all the way to California. Achieving this in advance of the rest of the family. But the trio ran into trouble—as the relatively inexperienced Pilot Lost his baring, when negotiating the mountainous summits, over which they would descend into the San Joaquin valley. Though not to mention Darkness on the final leg of the trip, was hard upon them. With fuel running low, the intrepid travelers thought to use the nearby topography, sighting a small body of water—serving nicely as a means of guiding their craft to find the local Airport. They would have to landsoon.
So, at the very last minute, the men glided in safely, their three-day ordeal was over. But overheard by Mom—when Dad said—“it was a long and bumpy ride.”
Though evidently, I may say that this story was handed down over the years—with its substantive details. Although, I tenn-to-think that these particular facts were somewhat embellished. And as it turned out, these stories had come to light about the time when my older Sister Vicki, who just happened to be born just before the celebrations, surrounding “VJ Day”—when World War Two was winding down). And at the end of the Second World War—apparently had allowed for our Family’s migration. Thus beginning our phenomenal growth; where it enabled all of us to thrive in sunny California. And out of these circumstances, surrounding my own birth (some Seven and a half years later) should be of particular interest; as I was born approximately three and a half months early; resulting in “blindness.” However, those complications were largely due to exposure to an inappropriate mixture of pure-oxygen, in an incubator.
As a matter of fact—I weighed only 2lbs 14oz—developing pneumonia. Then I lost more weight, weighing only a total of one pound 13 ounces. So wasn’t supposed to survive the next twenty-four hours. Apparently I was strong enough, while my Lung function had improved, rather-steadily. I then grew ever stronger—having no other maladies, then continued to mature properly until it was determined that I could be released from the hospital. Mom said, with some humor—that “I came home in a shoebox”!
My Mother Doris (born in 1922) where she not so long ago, at last explained to me that she had to live with frustration and some regret—regarding my premature birth, due to a confrontation with neighbors. According to Mom, had involved their prejudice attitude toward my developmentally disabled, or Down syndrome brother Craig. Apparently the vicious slights, coming from the neighborhood, based upon the happenstance of raising a handicapped” child (namely my Brother) upset my Mother quite severely, which was probably the very thing -–that caused my premature birth, resulting in “Visual Imparement.” And yet, repeatedly, attempted to assure Mom—that I bore no major regrets living with such consequences.
However, my earliest recollections were that of trying to visualize certain objects—needing to touch them (as any other child would want to do) but for me, it was a Matter of defining exactly what they really were. But the actuall fact was—that I was left with only residual vision in the right eye, owing from the condition of blindness (known at the time) as RLF (or Retinal-lintel Fibroplasia)) now referred to as ROP, or Retinal Oppathy of Prematurity) . However, Mom would tell me that as a baby–- “I would crawl after our Housekeeper’s bright red shoes.” As each of my big Sisters; Cathy, Vicki and Jacki—as older Children would want to do; they would quarrel over me, wanting to carry me around our modest house, located on Viola Street in Modesto.
And so, as the family continued to increase and prosper, we moved to Whittier Street, seeking larger living quarters; living there until I was nine years old. Finally our family moved to East Rumble Road which was also in Modesto in late 1962, where I remember mostly my childhood.
1.1—Early Modesto
Gathered from the “history of The City of Modesto” —Website)
“From its beginnings—Modesto, (Spanish for modest, has been a community dedicated to growth, progress and the quality of community life. In 1870, when it became generally known where the new town of Modesto was to be located, there was a stampede of businesses, dwellings, furniture—and people rapidly moving to the one mile square railroad town.
Therefore, Modesto became the end of the railroad line, on November 8, 1870, and it took another two years to construct tracks as far as Merced. When newcomers got off the train here, they saw a community of approximately 25 buildings, either hastily built, or moved from other locations. Then, when the Central Pacific Railroad announced its selection of the Modesto site, it was a bleak settlement on the plains without trees or vegetation—and contained an Abundance of windblown sand.
Yet, by 1910, Modesto’s population was estimated at 4500 persons. City fathers rated the young community as the most metropolitan- for its kind—and highly regarded it, as being classy for its size. The GROWING community soon became known as the “Rose City” and the ““Garden City”, because of its many rose bushes and well-manicured lawns. Therefore, particular Emphasis was placed on education and cultural amenities, including schools and theaters.
In fact, all of those cultural enhancements received priority treatment, based upon the quality of its Community College—and of the first-rate theatrical productions. This also had included a variety of talented entertainers… But at last in 1912 that feeling was architecturally expressed in the form of a design of a downtown Modesto Arch, located at Ninth and I streets. It was built for a cost of Twelve-hundred dollars. Spanning ‘I’ Street, with the slogan—”Water-Wealth, Contentment, Health”.
(Caption) showing a Night scene of the City of Modesto’s slogan.
However, in the last decades of Modesto’s progress, vision and growth is strikingly evident. Beyond even founder William C Ralston’s prediction, for the wheat field that was Modesto in 1870, now attracts business. From retail to manufacturing to the service industry, and also keeping up with the demands of future technology –an innovation—which is vital to its growth”.
As I also began to grow (still as a baby) was quite impatient, frustrated and indeed curious about my surroundings. Evidently this little-boy behavior had become quite apparent when at the Age of four and a half years, with our family on vacation, while traveling to Yellowstone National Park.
And upon Entering the Park proper, a couple of Bears greeted us all, by actually placing their forepaws on our wood-paneled 1950’s Station Wagon. The Bears were begging for food. But later on, I recall Fighting my way out of my sister’s grasp, as I charged after a little Bear Cub, who wasn’t at all afraid of people. Dad luckily grabbed me, keeping me from possible peril; and that, from perhaps the clutches of Mother Bear, who was probably lurking nearby.
Still on the same trip my pre-teen sister Vicki, didn’t quite understand our parent’s explicit instructions. She most likely, Neglected to properly dispose of some leftover pancakes, while another Bear chased her through the campsite until she relinquish the food, doing so, just in the Nick of time.
Then a rare event happened in February of 1962, before we moved to our new home on East Rumble road. We found Early one morning that Dad –acting surprised; quickly opened the front door, showing a nice blanket of snow covering the ground. Something which occurred only about every twenty years or so. Still, we kids were amazed and totally captivated by the magical Scene outside; but this posed a real problem for little ole’ me, who felt like a bereft, seven-year-old boy—who was sick, down with the Mumps. Nonetheless, my curiosity got the better of me—I decided to sneak outside anyway—to trace my name in the three-inch snow covered ground. The snow stayed around long enough for me to get to help build a snowman.
1.2. Early Education
To curb my inquisitive nature, my folks were grappling with the problem of finding what educational considerations, would be Necessary for me. My folks found that a new County , “Mainstreaming” plan for ”handicapped kids” was in its early stages of development. This evidently would serve as a model for the rest of the Country. In fact, was where a fortunate, in-home meeting setup by forward-thinking professionals—explaining the virtues of the specialized services, was about to have an indelible effect on my entire life.
Back in 1959 as I began Elementary School Education; which was conducted at a “designated” Modesto, public School. It therefore included a Resource Program, designed to provide the proper Educational skills necessary, for Blind and “Visually Impaired” students. So with that, we youngsters were to receive the same educational curriculum just as all of the other kids would normally be given. Moreover, Directors of the program would include Katy Seibert and later, Dick Simeington. Those who were involved at the School, were heading-up the special Program—including Resource Specialist Ronald Freightas, June Ghebhart (the Braille Transcriber); then later, Robert ”Budd” Corkory, who was the Orientation and Mobility Specialist.
They ultimately became the team that Took on the challenge of training our close-knit group of “visually impaired” kids”, over the next several years. But generally, these, “special-needs students” of the surrounding community were bused to the various designated schools. This was done through a Special Transportation Service contracted by Stanislaus County; It therefore enabled the Company (known as Storer Transportation) so were quite dedicated over the years. Yet becoming rather prominent in the area. eventually though the Company branched out into Charter bus services.
I even recall a nice gesture from Walter and Gladys Storer, owner of the Bus System; where they Provided each of the “disabled passengers,” with commemorative tote bags for the 1964 Olympic Games, held in Sapporo Japan. Those zippered bags were Vinyl, smart looking totes, With the USA Olympic emblem on the front— with the Japanese flag, depicted on the other side—showing the rising Sun.
We” Special Ed” Kids” were required to travel for up-to an hour and a half (one way) to get to our designated school. The so-called “blind kids” were bused to Orville Wright, near the Air Port district in south Modesto. So those extended bus rides would make for a long day, not allowing for social interaction with friends in our own neighborhood, on weekdays at least. Because of this, we young Students were drawn together with spare time after class, waiting for the bus, coupled with the ride home. We indeed had plenty of time for entertaining one another —making up stories and basically letting our imaginations run wild.
“The Shadow”, “The Green Hornet”, “Batman”, “The Outer Limits” and “Lost in Space”, were the popular old time radio and TV favorites. Some of these Programs had since become Classic Television shows. They were all ideal themes to draw-upon, by placing ourselves within the Radio and TV skits. Also those improvised acts turned-out to be Long-running sagas. At times our antics would soar into a cacophony until stifled by the bus driver. Then we would begin anew.
And yet, the next day—full of fertile ideas we nonetheless, rolled onward toward new challenges found in School . And therefore participated in regular classes. To augment each blind Student’s efforts, we got help from the Resource Specialists where we were scheduled within our daily routeen (learning among other things) the Braille code. But in my particular case—I tried to read the normal First Grade primmer, as the print was a bit larger. Although found it difficult—having to lean very close to read. Yet indeed, the poor posture was uncomfortable, so it was determined to have me repeat the first grade over again Using “Grades One and Two Braille”.
Mr. Freightas, the Resource Teacher, knew that I would be disappointed in having to repeat that all-important, First Elementary Grade in School; although somehow made the idea seem exciting. As it turned out, I hardly knew the difference. My friends were only one year ahead, therefore allowing me to make new acquaintances—where other blind and partially sighted students came into the program. Though by in large, we Visually Impaired kids found it difficult when mixing with our sighted classmates. And still, we Visually Impared Students often had to use up our recess time, demonstrating those newfound Braille skills to share with school officials and folks in the community, what we were learning.
1.3—“Sherry and Terry”
From the time of entering the first grade, I found a close friend named Donna Sheridan Gillilan, or, better known as “Sherri”. Yet the fact that she was a” girl” Didn’t bother me the least; she merely needed help in getting around the schoolyard. Sherri was totally blind—so I simply took it upon myself to be her Guide.
Through such things, we developed a close friendship over these next few years, lasting into adulthood, But ultimately developed into an ill-fated Marriage. Although, Sherri and I Still remain friendly acquaintances to this day, although, we don’t talk much anymore.
But back in our Elementary school-days—it was always “Sherri and Terry”. Over this period, I spent a lot of time visiting her home, with herself and her Mom Nora, who sadly was dealing with alcoholism. Sherri was an only child—so serving as a natural playmate. Still she was more the leader; as I merely whent along—following her ideas whenever we were with each other.
One quaint story of our youth together was when we were in the first grade. We were riding home on the bus from school, to my shock discovered That Sherri naively and quite innocently, had thrown away all of her clothes she was wearing, because she had peed in them. Sherri had quickly thrown the soiled clothing over the School yard fence—and hastily scampered into the then empty bus. When finding her in the back of the Bus with nothing on, embarrassed, I dutifully threw my coat over her. As the story goes, Sherri caught” hell” when she got home.
But there was another—not so quaint story, riding on the bus, had to do with one of the Deaf kids as they were frustrated while trying to get my attention. In fact a particular “dude” suddenly Punch me in the gut. My immediate reaction was out of reflex, resulted in jerking his hearing aid from his ear. A discordant squeal from the Hearing Aide—a loud cry from the Kid—and a bleeding ear; all looked incriminating to the bus driver, Warren Storer; who wouldn’t put up with any guff from unruly Kids. Because of my actions, I was unceremoniously banished from the bus for a week, having some time At home to think about my lot in life. But at the time I felt like a criminal, wanting to ignore the pressures, from the kids in school; whether they were “blind” “, sighted”, “and deaf”—or somewhere in between. No it was nevertheless the usual case where I was to do as I was told, most of the Time; by not questioning authority. I therefore remained blissfully undaunted, throughout these earlier years; But, just the same, I never seemed to have particular difficulty with any of my Teachers or Instructors.
Although—quote) I seemed to have developed from an early age, the ability to divine a Person’s character, on the basis of (more than anything else) their positive attributes. As a matter of fact to this day, I recall the names of my grade school teachers, including Mrs. Hands, my Kindergarten teacher, who taught me manners like ” please and thank you”. And occasionally I would become flustered, getting the please and thank you expression reversed, as she showed me how to correctly identify with the task of hanging-up my coat.
Misses Boneart and Misses Delemus were always there—making sure I didn’t get confused; being at first a bit unsure and shy, while finding my Way to class. Also who could ever forget Miss Wall’ ,—our little hands waving in the air—calling out her name when vying for her attention; the elderly Teacher would always seem to respond with her pat-answer—”Not Miss Wall, Arithmetic”. Finally, There was Mrs. Ericson and Mrs. Pine, who were always patient when dealing with small impressionable Second and Third graders.
However, with the uncertainty of dealing with different Teachers, I had the Opportunity at recess while learning to play Kickball and games like “Red-rover”—and “Line-tag” with the “sighted” Students. But Sometimes the ground-fog was so thick the kids couldn’t see very far. Not unlike me, as a” Partially seeing person”—where the kick-ball would slip, eluding all of us—the ball spinning around in the muck.
Thus it was, by The end of my Elementary Education—I was suddenly faced with the prospect of repeating the Sixth grade. This time it had to do with learning typing skills, to prepare me with greater classroom autonomy. This allowed the Teacher to read my work when completing assignments; because they were of course originally written in Braille. Then as the load increased and as learning became more challenging, my grades slipped into mediocrity; with Junior High and then High School looming on the horizon, I only thought about my social activities -–while the reverberations of adolescents set in.
Moreover, the harsh reality blow (in my view) being sent back to another year of Elementary “school purgatory—really hurt at the time. Although, my mentor, in the Person of the Resource Teacher Mr. Freightas, had again, in a tactful manner—softened the blow; thinking “I still had close friends—don’t I?—and after all—that’s the most important Thing!” But of course, I was not really understanding these problems—only understanding them from the point of view of a naive kid.
1.4. “Terrible Terry”
All together we were nine siblings. Stair step Toe headed youngsters, five girls and four boys; along with the usual squabbles while competing for our parent’s attention. Yet life at home was generally good, having two loving parents; who struggled to make ends meet. Although, growing-up in a large family had its benefits; however, also produced other problems as well,. But as to myself, inevitably had gotten “lost in the shuffle.” By this, I never seem to have a real sense of individuality. For instants, my brothers and I shared “hand-me-down clothing, a bedroom and to a certain extent, our personal belongings such As toys.
But living in the house on East Rumble Road, had been where my older brothers, Craig” and Rick. And then again, also would include Tom, our youngest Brother. So for a while we called little Tommy—“the snowman”—because of his light complexion. Yet still, we boys shared the converted garage as our bedroom. Beds, lined-up military style were the order of the day. With this, we delighted in warring with each other, with pillows as weapons—when our parents weren’t looking.
Mom and Dad were by that time, self-employed as building Designers; who specialized in Custom residential homes. Because of the fact of having busy parents, we Kids sometimes required the services of a nanny/ housekeeper. Our favorite, was a rather rotund black woman who was kind and caring, Named Bertha; but at the time, it was sort of weird having her chasing after some white blond-headed kids, with our dog Beebe, trailing along across busy Streets; Bertha often shouting—”Hay all yah chillins, you, all Ya come-back-yeare”
And yet, as mere Children, many of us (in the same way,, as yourselves) may also remember some limits on just how far we would be allowed to roam; meaning outside our Parent’s grasp. So, for me—with limited vision) it became even more critical. But, witness the following instance, that illustrates this point.
“The Major Street we had to cross was at Phelps and Bowen Avenue. One summer day I tried to cross at this corner—endeavoring to keep up with the other kids. —I was waiting there at the crosswalk when suddenly a large German-shepherd dog grabbed my little hand in his huge drooling mouth. I immediately gulped. It proved to be downright scary -–when feeling his big jagged teeth clasping my fingers. And yet, the dog (with his gentle manner) wanted to guide me across this busy avenue.
Although, as a Child, not knowing these things -–the out-right fear as such aprehention escalated from a mounting mixture of its visceral feeling. Though Nevertheless the Dog matter-of-factually, had guided me—pretty as you please. And then turned; and went on his merry way. With a modest air; his head bowed, the regal Canine faded from my clouded Vision.
And now as an Adult –-still to this day, by thinking of such things, years later; I wonder if it was a miraculous manifestation—or simply a Guide dog that strayed from his master, or what. Still, even a further question remains; could this experience prove to be a portents, of something of the future?—sort of an inkling of what will eventually occur with my own caring, and attentive “Dog Guides” some twenty years hence?
Still again, over this period, using three working Dog Guides throughout those wonderful years, proven to be quite profound. So, in a way, so therefore demonstrated an absolute—though striking degree of verasimilitude. All of which was most revealing, holding sway throughout my life. Although, my earliest scary moment I recall, was while still living on Whittier Street.
“We had a rounded patio. Where I enjoyed riding the edge with my Tricycle, perhaps to follow its curved contour. Remembering the experience well, Rolling along -–then teetering precariously on that little Childs conveyance. With my head pointed down looking at the contrasting edge, between the Gray cement and green Grass I wanted to ride faster each time—completing yet another circular lap;
but the increasing momentum caused me to tumble into the glass-louvered windows that were lining the extent of the Wall, which was joining the patio. Fortunately, I survived without a scratch.”
But, as little boys tend to be, I was no exception; being a bit destructive—and as I had mentioned a bit earlier, became naturally curious about my surroundings. In fact, my Folks dubbed me “terrible Terry”, as these next two accounts illustrate.
“The family had an old kitchen table that was still in good shape. It needed only a new coat of paint. So one day while playing out on the patio, finding the old table—then feeling the rough flecks of old paint peeling off; I had in a boyish moment impulsively hacked-up the table into small bits, using only the claw-end of a hammer. At that time, I really didn’t know what kind of punishment would be issued for my actions, but it was just as well that I didn’t find out after all.”
Although, I recall that there was an even more serious form of mischievous behavior,
“I had the bright idea of painting goofy designs on the back fence. Undaunted—though in a sneaky way, I stold my Dad’s expensive Camelhair paintbrushes. Along with these, made-off with his even more expensive oils. Using them to smear the sorted colors all over the red-wood fence. so generally making a big mess. Remembering this caper vividly—I mostly recall standing behind the brick facade in front of the house on Whittier Street, awaiting my punishment; but it never came. The family was too busy preparing for a day on our houseboat, which was At the Stockton Channel.
When at the boat, I was all excited about my first ever, captured fish.
“The poor fish was caught in the net, a tangled mess. Although I didn’t know that it was just a four-inch Striper. Dad untangled the fishing line—and threw the Striper back in the water. This to my dismay , being much too young to realize the fish needed to be at least eighteen inches long to keep; so I was real upset at my Dad for throwing the little striper into the Channel. However, he was—I’m afraid to say, was even angrier, to see his spoiled paints and brushes; to say the least about the messed-up fence.”
Dear ole’ Dad always tried to instill good-work ethics whenever he had a chance to show us how to do yard work around the house. But it was one particular Saturday where I was trying to cut branches using a manual pruning saw. This proved to be absolutely frightening.
“Suddenly the blade from the saw slipped and sliced open one of my fingers; the blood seemed to never stop oozing. I was Afraid to cry out, or at least say something about my predicament; so I calmly—yet weakly, washed the blood off using the garden hose. The next thing I remember was lying on the couch. I must have passed-out. Then recalling that I had to for quite a while, wear a heavy bandage on my middle finger, on my left hand—making it difficult when using my Braille writer, while in School.”
Dad
never took us kids to the Doctor. He said, sounding like he really meant it—“We weren’t insured”. My Father Leonard—whose middle name was Wilson, was named after President Woodrow Wilson. Dad was born in 1920. Self-sufficient, He grew-up on a farm –and had been use to taking matters like this into his own hands—playing Doctor more than once. Perhaps it was more like that my Father just needed to work on his bedside manner.—I say this because he seem to enjoy using a pair of tweezers to remove slivers from our tender skin, as we boys—yelped for mercy, regretting the act of climbing the tall redwood fence, acquiring a number of slivers, while messing around in our own two-story wooden Fort, built along one of the corner sections of the yard.
Many other Memories as well, reminds me of the time when I was a bit younger—cutting my left eye, as a seven-year-old kid, playing war, at a nearby Construction site ditch.
“Along with neighborhood Boys, I discovered fresh dirt all around from a recent excavation; finding plenty of places to hide. It was easy to imagine being down in a foxhole. There I was wearing my plastic, Marine-raiders camouflaged helmet, bravely holding in my hand a plastic steel-grey, German Lugar Pistil. And thoughtfully stored plenty of water in my canteen while I battled with the neighborhood guys, who were David Lewis and the Presbella brothers. These kids were now the enemy—and had become quite serious with its form of intentional Military maneuvers.
Yet with such things—we Kids were engaged in mortal combat. Little Pebbles soon escalated into cement and gravel, two-handed clods.
Evidently at that particular point, I wasn’t quite aware of anything about those consequences—not covering for or protecting my blind side (which was on the left).
“Suddenly, bam! A stony clod slammed into my left eye, at the brow, cutting it wide open -– then knocking my helmet off.”
So to this Day, I still bear a small scar. But fortunately—I never experience too many skinned knees and elbows, while growing up.
Although I remember one more accident involving mistaking the color and texture of the flooring, when stepping too close to the edge of a stage, while in the Rec-room at the Church—“a low vision miscue—to be sure.” Because of this I had the miss fortune of tumbling off the stage, sustaining one large goose egg on my head and biting my lip, suffering a bloody nose.
During the summer months we kids enjoyed organized activities, this included Recreation Programs at the nearby—“Our Lady O’ Fatima” Park.
“I loved playing Ring-toss with my older brother Craig, who was Severely Developmentally Disabled, as earlier mentioned. My companionable brother (born Leonard Craig) was about four years my senior, and became my self-appointed protector, from neighborhood bullies, wanting to poke-fun at our limitations. These older boys use to throw rocks and such things like Forcing Craig to put even larger ones on the train track, to get us in trouble. However over this period Craig would routinely throw his bicycle in the canal, so that the local sheriff Deputy named high, had to rescue it. —I think Craig needed the attention, and he admired the Sheriff uniform, that Deputy High was wearing.
Yet another story about bicycles was when Craig found that a lone bike was left at the school near our house. He of course not understanding the Consequences, took the bike home, and proudly gave it to me. Eagerly accepting the gift from my older Brother; I gleefully road it around the Whittier neighborhood. My folks probably weren’t very happy to see me, gallivanting around on a bicycle because I apparently couldn’t see well enough, but I wanted to prove otherwise.
Although Dad would tell me at certain times—playfully asking me—
“What are you, blind in one eye, and can’t see out of the other”!
Evidently my Father’s play-on-words rang true, because, of course, I was actually blind in the left eye and was technically, Legally Blind in the right.
Soon after covertly acquiring the bike, I streaked past my Dad. This time, he wasn’t playing—he bellowed—”You take that bike back to where you found it”.
I said, sounding innocent—
“My friend just gave it to me.
But Dad said harshly—
“Give it back.”
I replied-quickly—
“I can’t, he’s moving away, today”.
Saying this, because a large moving van had just passed by me. So I then made the vain attempt to follow my Father’s wishes.
And When returning home I coolly said—
“Well I guess I was too late, their gone”.
So that’s how I ended-up getting my first bicycle. But the real end of the story was that the bike, needing new tires, had been left where it had been inadvertently thrown in the dump—somebody thinking it was just a piece of junk But I also remember the time when Craig along with me, and my Brother Rick were mischievously engaged in exploring an irrigation drain. This was near the Beard Avenue Elementary School.
We found Black widow spiders hanging in their webs; so we boys used lit candles to set them on fire -–getting this idea from a neighborhood boy, my best friend at the time—Bobbie Van meter. He later showed me how to catch butterflies, ladybugs, grasshoppers, praying mantises and the like; putting them in jars with small holes in the lids. Then we threw grass in—along with a live match.
It soon was apparent to us that a certain underground drain became smaller, as we ventured deeper into its darkening depths. Craig, who was older and of course larger than the rest of the neighborhood ”hooligans,” who were egging us on, had gotten stuck in the hole –
frightened by the spiders.—I don’t know how much trouble we all caught for being involved in such “shenanigans,” but it must have been really bad.
Another bad thing I did when still small, was the time I annihilated a nest of birds, using a two by four. That was because of not being able to see exactly where their nest was. The long board was employed to extend my reach to feel for the exact location of the nest. This of course was to satisfy my curiosity.
“But to my surprise The Mama bird was scolding me, so I panicked—and used the board to fight off the frightened birds.
The next thing I recall was being yanked-up by my ankles, by my Dad, as he swung me around beating me with his belt. It didn’t take many episodes like this, to breathe the fear of God into our little minds. My Dad believing the oft-quoted saying—”Spare the rod, and spoil the child”.
Although there were undoubtedly some kids that needed the rod, not me.
“One time when some malicious neighborhood kids were playing around a new house, under construction. And afterword when they all left—as I was skipping out too —I discovered that someone wrote my name in wet cement. Just then, a Police Officer showed up—and he of course thought I was the culprit. Then the Cop took me by the hand and I thought “I was a goner.” After all—this wasn’t my Deputy buddy High.
By then I was worried and upset, I began sobbing. The Officer merely wanted to investigate the situation so asked me where I lived. Now I was really in trouble. In a halting manor between sobs, I told him. We were just around the corner, where we walked over to the house, while my Sister Jacquelyn Ann—who we usually called Jacki, had explained that I couldn’t have done this “Because I didn’t know how to write my name in print; I only knew Braille.” The Officer believed us; so looked for other avenues in order to solve the matter.
CHAPTER TWO
“Don’t call me “Bamby!”
While in School at age eleven, I witnessed the plane crash of our family friend Jonny Kirkpatrick. He only a few days earlier, flew Jackie to San Jose California. Mr. Kirkpatrick happened to be a General Contractor in the area—and also, a work associate with my parents. But unknown to me at the time, Jonny’s plane was in trouble, where it glided uncertainly over our schoolyard toward the Modesto Airport.
By then, I heard an ominous wine of engines—sputtering and cutting out—the sound catching my attentive ears. The Cessna Beach craft plowed into the walnut trees, as poor Jonny tried in vain to steer the small craft—attempting to at least make it to the street in front of the school. We Students heard the horrible grinding metal and trees braking—then, stark silence.
Mrs. Alma Ray field, the School Principal and the teachers and other officials began to swarm over the area; cordoning off the streets surrounding the school, so the young students couldn’t see the carnage.—I learned the word” mangled”, the word Mrs. Rayfield used, describing the ugly detritus.
After all, it had been just Two years earlier, where I still now vividly remember the shocking news of the death of JFK—when he—President Kennedy was shot in Dallas Texas, on November 22, 1963.
I happened to be in fourth grade reading class—in Mrs. Hawn’s room, having the responsibility—as the Office Monitor; so was required to retrieve written messages from the main Office. Then as the alarm rang, I rushed to retrieve the sad message—that the Teacher red allowed. Mrs. Hawn gasped in horror at the terrible news, exclaiming “The President of the United States was shot!”
We young Students, along with our Teacher anxiously listened to the radio bulletins, which was “piped-in” through the intercom, as each of the hurried messages came forth –-alerts were mounting by the moment. But then. after the class was released from school (with everyone so upset) I distinctly recall the blurred image—me, looking down—leaves filling my teary-eyed view; those brown, orange and yellow leaves still on the ground, in late autumn—aimlessly blowing; and seemingly just as confused as everyone else.
Although, as an adult, I would especially come to know the intimate political details, in books, where such things relate to John F Kennedy—and the Nations Space efforts. But who could forget the sad days that followed the assassination—the Television coverage of the shooting of Oswald (the President’s probable assassin) on live-black and white TV. And then the President’s Funeral along with the overall heart-gripping news along whith its aftermath.
And as things were—we just happened to have our Family Thanksgiving gathering—that included Relatives from Utah. Still, we young folk gained a great respect by gleaning from what we could—of the adult conversation—which of course had ensued over this time. But, related to this, the entire “Blind Services Resource Group, who early on had bandied about the goings-on concerning JFK; at first with the Kennedy/Nixon debates—and the subsequent Kennedy Presidential Election. And from this, I notice now with some hindsight, especially while looking back, regarding the continued banter from each Student in School; that all this sentiment was simply immolating the viewpoint of our Parents. This basically had to do with the overall ideals of the time. Then there was that awful tragedy -–why did it have to happen?
I now find that this type of social conundrum, had provided the cathartic effect of shocking all of us into reality. Evidently, the President’s assassination demonstrated to a certain degree—our naive sense of security. That is, in my view, where such forms of unrest, tended to aroad-away the final vestiges of true Family values and of its basic sense of unity. Of which is lacking these days.
However, it was in those tender, early years, my Mother would tell me –that I was a blurry-eyed Mole –-“that I should come out of my bedroom –at least once and a while”. And so When I finally came out of my secure domain, I loved to play with the then popular, fragile balsa-wood rubber band Airplanes—and the water-pump model rockets, that burst when I eagerly filled them too full.
It was also back in those early—formative school years, was where my partially sighted friend, Gary Mashadow, who along with me, both were considered industrious “playground ball monitors.” And with that, we were in charge of maintaining the playground equipment. Keeping the balls patched, labeled and properly inflated. That was early-morning duty; so we guys felt important. All of these things were a great memory—so was a lot of fun.
But speaking of” fun, my oldest Sister Cathy (born Catherin-Marie) put together a surprise Birthday party for me, when I was thirteen. She seemed to be always involved in doing some form of artistic project fore others. But didn’t realize that when I volunteered to do some research on the Solar System -–things like, painting pictures of Planets on paper plates, I wasn’t supposed to know that it was for, little-ole’ me—I thought it was merely some sort of Church youth activity. Nevertheless, that Surprise Birthday Swim-party theme was “the planets” to match my interest in Space.
In fact, all my “visually Impared cronies” came to celebrate; including Mr. Freightas—along with June Ghebheart; Mrs. Ghebheart over many years was one of our friendly and supportive Braille Transcribers. She was one of those Motherly-type confidants, always wise and helpful throughout my younger years. So still, there were additional boyhood memories—which included a brief exposure to scouting programs through the LDS, or Mormon Church. Yet from such activities—I was involved in Cub Scouts; and then as a Weeblo And finally, IN Boy Scouts, as a Tenderfoot. I also liked camping out-of-doors; but it wasn’t exactly a special thing (like earning Merit-badges) wasn’t at all impressive to me. It was the singular-fact that I could reed Braille; where the other kids couldn’t.
And yet, I vividly remember carrying the bulky two volume Braille Scout handbook), trudging down a dirt path beside a large open area, covered with beautiful green grass. The sensation of its pungent fragrances wafted through the air –And so for me became quite revealing. As I made my way to the Orangeburg Chapel, that’s where we held our scouting meetings.
Still, it’s often said by many—“out-of-door activities are the stuff boy’s dreams are made of”. Back then, there was a school program geared for outdoor exposure -–and was the very thing that fit the bill. What this actually entailed was a program called “Outdoor Education”—at Old-Oak Ranch. The Camp was located at the four thousand foot level in the California Sierra foothills; I believe this was above the Town of Sonora. This was while still in the sixth grade—so I considered myself lucky because by repeating that grade, I had to go back to the Camp twice.
Based on the fact of attending the Camp more than once Now primed and ready to sing the Camp’s theme-song—which must have been titled—“Gee Ma, I Want to Go Home”! Some of the lines go like this….
“The biscuits at Old Oak Ranch, they say there mighty fine; but, one rolled off the table—and killed a friend of mine -–Oh, I can’t take any more of this camp-life, Gee, ma, I wanna go, but they won’t let me go. –gee ma, I wanna go home!
Another verse of the song goes like this:
“The Counselors at Old Oak Ranch, they say are mighty fine; but, they killed the kids in Maple”, then they’ll start on “Pine!”—Oh I can’t take any more of this camp-life. –Gee ma—I wanna go but, they won’t let me go, gee ma, I wanna go home!”…
Mrs. Rayfield, would as our School Principal have to sing “America the Beautiful”. Representing the Students from Orville Wright Elementary—her strident and awful sounding voice would make us all cringe with embarrassment. “Old-lady” Rayfield’s voice really cracked as she sang, echoing over the Camp’s PA system; but she eventually would make us all proud, writing a book about early California. But at the camp I recall being a little older than the others—and remember that I was actually called-out” for a fight by one of the boys. This” bully” was badgering me, trying to belittle my blindness, regardless of the fact that I was taller. Then the scuffle was brought to a halt by one of the dorm monitors—so nothing else was said;
Furthermore, that engagement proved to be the first time that I was put to the test as a peer among the” sighted kids”. Yet, my final year in Elementary School had been remarkable for the fact that Mr. Rehnquist with his Sixth Grade Class, took the time to reed adventure Stories from books—like ”The Raft,” and ”Pilot Down Presumed Dead”. We Students were riveted to each chapter as each adventure unfolded.
Yet, during the course of that year, over the summer, my little friend Sherri Gillilan and I would visited each other’s home, spending time together, making up games and listening to recordings –and writing Stories in Braille. This was based upon our imagined embellishments from the Skits that we had created when riding home on the School Buses throughout those many years of the past.
“One day at my house we were busy playing with the balls on the Pool table. Since Sherri couldn’t see at all, she would guess where each ball would be to hit with another—to knock them into the side and corner pockets. My close friend loved making up this kind of game; but as the Pool table over the years became rickety, its balance was precarious to say the least. Though Sherri was stubborn. The fact was,—that I caught her playing several times by the rickety Pool table; and was deathly afraid that it would collapse——that she would be hurt in the process.
Well that vary thing happened. so when the table went—it smashed on to the floor making a loud crashing sound. At that same instant being very close-by—I actually saw the teetering table start to go. Suddenly I leaped into the air, throwing my body into Sherri’s—rolling her away from the heavy table—just as it fell. —I got her out of the way except for one of her big toes. The Pool table caught the very end of the toe, snipping the end nearly off. It was a bloody mess with Sherri screaming in pain.
I recall that I had to carry her to the nearby sink in the back bathroom. By this time, My Parents heard the commotion and came to our rescue. Sherri’s injured toe was in fact saved with quick medical attention.” And I was glad that my alertness had saved the day.”
That memorable episode was quite scary; after all, it could have been worse.
2.1.”...Out Of Your Sox
and In Your Jocks”
Beginning the seventh grade at La Loma Junior-High also was a bit scary, because for the first time I had to “dress-out”, and shower in front of the other boys for Mr. Lonn’s gym class. It was hilarious trying to figure-out that darn athletic supporter, or jockstrap, especially because it was too small. Mom even had to help me purchase the thing. Not able to see well enough—I was somewhat uncertain on just how to arrange this protective gear –
Although being a bit older than the other guys,—I bulged out with my maturing masculinity, mainly because of the tightness of that little jock strap—just the same, I was thoroughly embarrassed. Suddenly there in the locker room exposing myself in front of god and everybody; not knowing whether to feel shame or pride, go figure.
Then it was the following year, when Mr. Bob Campbell, our Eighth Grade Junior-High Gym Coach, relished the opportunity to shout in a loud voice in that same locker-room, for all the guys to hear; ”Like they say in the Army, all-Wright, all you-yahoos, out of your sox, and in your jocks”. Like a Drill Sergeant, Coach Campbell threatened us with periodically checking to see if we were wearing our athletic supporters. Always forgetting to put mine on, I was trying to out-fox the old man—I was wearing nothing underneath; so he wouldn’t detect me wearing my skivvies. Fortunately, Mr. Campbell didn’t probe too far. However, I eventually found a larger athletic supporter, fearing that going without each time—would be too risky.
What’s more, Bob Campbell always threatened us with bopping us, with a stub from his missing hand, if we got out of line. It was bad enough being called” Bamby” by the other boys, because of my fleetness on the track, long skinny legs and my bony-butt! After all, I was good at running track in Junior High, including a sprint of the 330-meter run—my favorite; but I didn’t try out for the team. At that time, I didn’t ride the City Bus System. It was still too limited in those years. I had to walk, because there were only two established routes in the system available. So unwittingly—I even traveled without even using a White Cane. During this period mobility and transportation problems were definite factors, when considering after school activities.
Yet, other Junior High Teachers I remember were Mrs. Chou, the Blind Student Resource Advisor. She was different—she was more sober-minded and orderly, as her Asian background molded her personality. Another Foreign born person was the big German, the History Teacher Mr. Ewert, who had a strong German accent. Of course, we can never forget Mr. Weir, the Geography Teacher –-puffing on his awful cigars he smoked before class.
2.2—”Blindisms”
The Blind Resource Students were asked to participate in a Summer School Program. The Instructors in charge of course were Ron Freightas, Budd Corkory and June Ghebhart. We as a group went on various local Field Trips, including a wonderful trip to Hershey’s Chocolate Factory, in Turlock California -–and also the nearby Rainbow Bread Bakery. We even learned how to properly shop at a neighborhood Supermarket.
Further, Mrs. Ghebhart showed us how to plan our favorite meal guiding us as we followed recipes, such as my favorite, “Hungry-Jack Casserole. This particular recipe calls for a mixture of lightly browned ground beef, with sautéed onions and adding pork & beans, spiced-up with BBQ sauce, then topped off with Pillsbury biscuits and melted cheese. In addition, Mrs. Ghebhart exposed us to the art of Dining at our favorite Restaurant. In this case, it was a place known As El Faro’s, which served-up great Mexican food yum!
However in Class we kids engaged in activities like Wrestling—and became acquainted with the art of body language, otherwise, known as Kinesis—and enjoyed the facets of music-appreciation. Thus it was throughout each of these Summer Sessions, where Budd Corkory taught us about body language in a rudimentary way.
This was so that in order for us to have a better conceptual grasp, while understanding the dynamics of communicating none verbally, in the same way sighted people actually do. So that form of communication mostly involved the use of silent gestures; such as the use of certain facial expressions, correct body movement and positioning, which would send the proper message to others. Although in the future and in a curious way, I would be reintroduced to the subject of body movement.
But for now, one of the issues that blind individual’s face, especially those that became visually impaired at birth, would exhibit “blindisms.” These so called blindisms are merely a natural expression of the use of one’s body, as opposed to the learned by seeing, or by, mimicking others’; just as a sighted child would demonstrate. These actions served mainly as a function of the normalized developmental process.
So as we all were assembled in Class, we visually challenged Students were busily discussing a variety of “Blindness” related problems. Some of those involved placing our fingers in our eyes; and beyond the fact that it plainly felt good—which just happened to be an especially bad social habit; though it was to provide a form of added pressure on the eyes. Perhaps this mainly had to do with giving some added stimulus to the nervous center.
Also we discussed Other blindisms that involved rapid movement, as in the act of swaying, or rocking back and forth while sitting in a chair, or— just by standing—and rapidly flicking the hands and so on. The technical word for this behavior is “stemming,”—or the natural need to release nervous energy (which is in Theory) largely due to the fact of not having access to the stimuli from the Visual Cortex. Furthermore, this extra energy is sometimes expressed as, focused concentration, such as being mesmerized by a bright light source. That phenomenon would show up in the case of a Partially Seeing Person—which is something I had aquired with this very tendency.
So it is worth mentioning once more, that Mr. Corkerey explained these concepts in terms that he thought we could grasp—and then try to put all of these social interactions into practice. However we could learn these things only over time. But wrestling got our real attention, as we certainly needed to release nervous energy—which had taken the form of “college-style” wrestling.
Thus Through this fun-filled activity, we Students learned by feeling the exact positioning and subtle movements of our bodies, as Mr. Freightas, acting as a wrestling coach would demonstrate all of these meneuet actions “, by showing us “take-down” moves—how to effectively pin our opponent—and so forth. All of This experience proved pivotal in the near future, but now how about some music.
2.3. “Gokey’s Chow”
As a matter of course, Mr. Freightas would breakout the Guitar, exposing us to the world of Folk song. Our favorite music came from the Limeliters. We impressionable kids were beating tambourines –and using flutes and bongos; Learning the tunes from the Limeliters live-album, “Through Children’s Eyes”. We kids even tried our hand at writing our own songs, with the help of Mrs. Ghebhart. Steve Gokey, a gregarious sports-minded kid broke the traditional form, and in treated us with the irreverent take-off from the popular, Doctor Ross dog food commercial; so wrote; ”Gokey’s Chow, is dog-gone good;” complete with the little-”woof” at the end. The Teachers helped us to use the Xylophone and Otto harp to pluck—or strum out the tune. Mine was a modest little ditty about falling leaves. The tune ran up and down the scale, but in my judgment wasn’t very good.
Still another Folk phenomenon that occurred in Junior High, was when the then popular Ozzie group, The Seekers”, gave their spirited—“Up with People rally before a roaring crowd of excited teens. We were not so far from the large Oak tree, our School symbol, as All the Students had been situated in bleachers, at the La Loma Junior High School. In fact, we Kids were stamping our feet loudly; singing “Up, Up-And Away-in our beautiful balloon”—a song by the “Fifth Dimension”—and of course, the Seekers’ signature song, “Up with People”.
The real purpose for this Rally was to instill some needed positivism during that turbulent time—one of social conflicts (already alluded to) an era of which Historically speaking, that of the nineteen sixties (the so called counter-culture period). And as I remember those years, as I had implied, I was quite innocent and sheltered from these apparent realities.
2.4—Panasonic, RQ 1O2-S
Watching TV in the mid-sixties—was considered great family time. We all enjoyed standard entertainment. TV Westerns Series such as “Bonanza”, “The Big Valley”—and Walt Disney’s captivating show, Wonderful World of Color; thus experiencing the conversion to “living color”, which was back then quite spectacular. Many of these Shows – were highly regarded as our favorites. However with my poor eyesight, I had to sit very close to “the tube” to see—that was my spot without question. This absorbing medium eventually became a source of education, rather than mere entertainment. It seemed that I was more focused on the news, especially when it came to showing events surrounding the Space Program.
With this—I began thinking of ways on how to stay home from school to watch a “countdown” for each new and exciting mission –-and was quickly becoming enthralled with all-things, “space. So with great effort I tried recording the vaunted, live televised missions to the Moon; staying-up odd-hours in the night, looking haggard, while braving school the next day.
One year for Christmas my folks got me a small open-reel tape recorder, that used only three-inch reels of tape. I took the little machine to school with me to share recordings of Television Shows at recess—and at lunch break with my friends. For instance this had mostly been while paling around with my Blind Buddy Mark Lemmons; at that time, we were both engrossed with an “Outer Limits” episode, “The Zantie Misfits.” But this predilection for the tape recorder one day got the better of me. This was while in Mr. Quinonez’s fifth grade class.
And at this point my attention was straying from reviewing our Math assignment. I was sitting there at my desk busily scribbling a thumbnail sketch of my marvelous machine. Suddenly the Teacher slaps my hand. The only thing I could do was to let out a large yon from a lack of sleep. Mr. Quinonez thinking that I was mocking him, in turn, had mockingly, yond back at me—saying “What are you, a Lion!” Then he promptly sent me to the school Principal for disobedience.
Many years later—I would see Mr. Quinonez with his family at the bowling alley; or even much later on, would find him shopping at the local supermarket. We both chuckled over me being bad. Rolando Quinonez was originally from Guatemala, and always told us about Central and South America. So it was once more in Class when Mr. Quinonez showed-off an Iguana lizard, longer than our arm and a very large flying Beetle, bigger than our hand; he had a Taxidermist prepare both of these specimens for display. Also, the stories he liked to read to his class were the” Hal and Roger Series, including; “African Adventure, “Amazon Adventure,” and “South Sea Adventure”.
Debbie Stough who was partially sighted, and also in the class, loved the Hal and Roger books just as I. She constantly reminded me of what the little tape recorder’s Model number, Panasonic, RQ 1o2-S had really stood for”. The RQ—of course stood for Rolando Quinonez; but I eventually out grew the little recorder and progressed to one that used seven-inch reels. I then spend quite some time saving-up and using my lunch-money, including some additional allowance along with help from my folks, for buying an open-reel Tape Recorder. This deal was initiated by my close friend from school, Gary Mashado. Gary enthusiastically shared my space-passion. So together we started to build quite a large audio tape Space library. Although this kind of zeal got me in trouble.
The idea from time-to-time was to borrow one of the Resource Center’s tape recorders—A Sony TC-1o5—OPEN-REEL machine. It seems that I was tempted to use the better sounding recorder for my space library activities. The Sony, with its Seven-inch reel, long-play, variable speed and four-track capability was really meant for homework assignments; but the temptation was just too great for—a starry-eyed Teenager, an Astronaut “wanna-be”, who kept the borrowed machine much too long. When talking with Ron Freightas not so long ago, He incredulously brought up the covetous actions of me, keeping one of “those Tape machines”. He also reminded me that those machines never worked properly since.
I recently found that there is a particular website on the Internet, which maintains a detailed description of each of these forgotten open-reel Tape Machines of the past. Though back then, admittedly I was rather rough with the equipment. This had been mostly—because you know, the “Moon missions” were very involved—and the four-track feature came in handy, in order to store more of the action of what was going on in Outer Space—and on the Moon—getting it all on tape—At least that was my rationale at the time.
To this day, I’m saddened over the loss of Mr. Freightas’s recordings he made of the first Moon landing. It was a historic memory to be captured forever—and meant for his two sons, Dean and Roger. Regretfully the tape was inadvertently lost over the years, as I borrowed the spool to make a copy of it to edit from, for my library. Nevertheless, I found through Gary Mashadow over the following years, that WE had in-deed cultivated a long an enjoyable association, by collaborating with one another. This included our future professional experiences, based upon our activities found in the Business Enterprise Program for the Blind, in Sacramento California.
However for now High-school was at hand—including each of my blind cronies,” and a few new partially sighted compatriots –as they were all thrown into the mix, for added spice. And speaking of spice, I was secretly admiring a feisty foxy blue-eyed brunette, named Roxann Alberti. In fact, I think she really liked me too, but I was too shy to let her know. Her sometimes-coquettish ways drove me crazy. I knew her from grade school.
Back then Roxann along with some of the other blind kids, allegedly tried to clobber the” sighted ones” with their heavy Braille Writer, when they didn’t get their way. Roxann was cute and sweet, one moment, and temperamental the next. Although in High School I didn’t really want to cause any trouble with my kinda-sorda Girlfriend”, Sherri, because I knew the fur would surely fly—and I’d lose out in the game.
2.5—Wrestling
Another kind of competition came in the form of trying-out for the Wrestling Team. As things were I followed the example of my totally Blind comrade, Robert Sweetman, or better known as, “Bob”. He excelled in virtually all things he put his hand to. In Grade School, Bob was always seen with several bulky Braille volumes of the World Book Encyclopedia, which incidentally contained one-hundred and forty-six Volumes. Bob often would read these books just for fun; but his real fun would be to see how many guys he could pin on the Wrestling Mat.
Still the greatest thrill I experienced in practicing for the Team was catching Bob off guard and pinning him, in front of the Coach, who was Mr. Tanner.—I finally got a spot on the Team as an alternate member—and then got wiped-out in the early going. Eventually Bob Sweetman was destined to become number two in our High School’s Wrestling Conference ranking.
But one Saturday on the way back from a Tournament, Bob and I along with his Sister Karen, who was driving their car, had suddenly found ourselves bogged down in the mud; the vehicle hopelessly stuck. So the three of us had to hike to my house—getting soaked to the skin in a driving rain. In fact, it took more than three hundred feet of chain to pull the car out of the muck—the next day.
Also it was about this time that I remember a frightening experience involving an unfortunate accident, when on a Church Halloween outing. We teens from the Church were all enjoying a fun hay-ride in the country—a number of Mormon boys and girls shouting and singing, as we were pulled by a tractor, on a flatbed, packed with bales of hay. Unbeknownst to us the flatbed trailer was not tied down, as tightly as it should have been.
And then as the situation unfolded, we began making a hairpin turn, but the trailer bed with its heavy load had slid off to one side, up ending me from the top, causing me along with others to flip on to the unfortunate kids that were pinned beneath the underside of the trailer.—I landed on top of a girl, writhing in pain—and in-shock. Several other kids were hurt as well. We were all taken to Hospital, and checked for injuries. The poor girl had broken her arm and leg. —I sustained two bruised ankles, which kept me out of Wrestling for a while.
2.6—“Creature Features”
It must have been perhaps a year later when Sherri and I were involved in a Halloween Haunted House Church project. This also Included Cathy, my big Sister, with my Dad who played along as a token Frankenstein character; this was when Sherri and I were appointed as Sound Technicians, as we were responsible for the recordings, to make the haunted house sound more ghoulish. Dad really played-up his role as Frankenstein, lying in a coffin. Cathy was the Master Makeup Artist—as My Brother Craig especially enjoyed the Frankenstein bit. He would clownishly act out Dad’s performance—mimicking him for several years thereafter.
Craig also did a great impression of the Werewolf—and stayed up with me all night, watching the Bob Wilkins Show on our Local NBC Television Channel. Mr. Wilkins puffing on a big cigar, the Host of the show would regularly give his commentary for the evening’s “Creature Feature”, each Saturday night. But this late-night weekly activity had undoubtedly spurred the imagination of my beloved Downs syndrome Brother.
It had been so much so, that while on an overnight campout in Yosemite Park; it all proved to be quite interesting, because of being with our Brother in law, who was Cathy’s Husband—Rossen Townsend Sr. Ross as we called him was fun-loving and had kidded Craig along throughout the course of that exciting outing—to the point that my Brother, enjoying all of this campy-fervor, by acting out his role as the “Wolf Man.” All of this fun lingered toward evening. By then it was getting late and in the night, Craig thought that he heard strange noises in the dark. Now Curious, he had snuck out of the Cabin, alone and scared -–then getting lost. So we ended up having to trail after him in the darkness.
At last we found Craig had been so badly spooked by the natural nightly sounds of the forested area; finally after reaching our precocious Brother, we had to coax him out of a large tree which was some distance from the Cabin. Over the Years this episode would always be one of the favorite Story’s told at our large Family gatherings. And yet through these years my Sister Cathy—with her artistic ability had been quite recognized for her phenomenal talent and effort, as she became increasingly involved with Church and School Theatrical projects. These included activities like the Churches traveling annual Road-show spectaculars.
I especially recall watching one of the Shows while sitting in the front row, where I could attempt to see the skeleton outfits made with black material—yellow paint for the bones. This innovation showed up when the lights on stage were brought down low—and a black light would then highlight the bones. This fell against a black backdrop—making this special effect caused one to think as if the black cloth to the outfit was not even there.
A bit later there was still another thrilling spectacle awaiting us; during the performance there happened to be a big and startling surprise; proving to be a loud explosion as a Jeannie with a blue silk turban, had suddenly leaped off the stage, amidst a cloud of smoke and fire, which had scared the daylights out of me. But was grand fun just the same. Still this particular show became very successful as the performing Road show Troop traveled all over the Valley, during that season.
CHAPTER THREE
« Va-va-voome”!
Over the years long-term “Blind and Visually Impaired” friends followed me through grade school, junior high, High School; including Modesto Junior College—better known as the MJC. This also involved Community activities that dealt with establishing and maintaining an affiliate chapter of a State run Blind Organization. It was known as the California Council of the Blind—or simply referred to as the CCB.
Our local Chapter became known as Stanislaus Association of the Blind (SAB). And in turn, we elected as President—an older gentleman named Jerry Cole. Since he was at the time more knowledgeable and quite visionary, he along with a Totally Blind School teacher (who taught sighted kids) named Manual Gonsalves; they nevertheless were instrumental in gathering Community support, through the “powers-that-be”—convincing the “movers and-shakers; those of certain Community constituents involving Political and Educational fields—of which all had contributed to the cause. However my blind friends and I were yet focused on the arduous tasks associated with High school.
And along With this there were two major themes being forged as impressive factors during that time. All this involved my first experience in Art appreciation, cultivating a skill, of which I had taken a great deal of pleasure from—throughout those formative years. And While at home, I had been in the habit of mimicking my parent’s drawings of Architectural plans; but instead of houses, I would draw the plans for Space Stations. Yet the other major factor that had an effect on me was the academic and disciplines learned through the Air Force Junior-ROTC program, headed-up by Major Anthony Pikorni Retired and retired Staff Sergeant, Richard Stafford. The balance between the artistic and academic skill building would be truly appreciated much later in life.
Further, I found that accomplishing these largely visual skills were the real lessons learned in High School. So a lot of forethought and critical thinking should have gone into planning; but true-to-form, I naively dove right in, with the help of our Resource Teacher, Sally Menzer. Sally was an attractive and young, laid-back, kind of “hip—and cool! Teacher; she had in sharp contrast—a hilarious prudish-laugh, whenever we blurted out swear words. She had a few of her own when we were one-on-one with her.
Sally in an almost nonchalant way would use the “F” word, but not exactly in a dirty way. She used it in a way that truly fit the occasion. She actually arranged for a memorable outing for that year which was a Summer Special Ed session, taking us up to Sea Ranch, which was above San Francisco, to ride horses along the beach. I still remember the thrilling and exhilarating feeling as my spirited horse, actually leapt a rather steep washout—agully-like tributary on the sandy Beach. Sherri’s horse was even friskier. It took off on its own course. She was heard screaming at the top of her lungs—I don’t know if that thrill was from pure excitement, or of terror, but we all howled with laughter over all of that; and as we may put it—as becoming so much “horseplay”.
Later, Sally Menzer took us on another field trip during the winter. This was an outing, near the town of Strawberry which was in the foothills—and at the time was covered with snow. On this particular trip we excided Teens went sliding down slopes, using inner tubes and metal saucers; without a doubt we were all having great fun because my friends and I were once more gleefully screaming and suddenly terrorized, when gliding too close to the edge of a drop off; so much so to my boyish pleasure and fondly recalling the exact moment, as Roxann, was tightly clutching me, during these uncertain moments—“Va-va-voome!
Back at school, as far as my artistic prowess in High school was concerned,—I owe a great deal of credit to a couple of dynamic Art instructors, named Mrs. Jeovinoni and Mr. LaZar. Together, their inspirational guidance went a long way when helping me to learn the rudiments of sketching techniques. This gave me a lot of added confidence with their tutoring. During that summer, they even helped me entered some of my work at the County Fair, where I was given ribbons for honorable mention. The Judges at the Fair didn’t even know they were looking at drawings from a partially-sighted person.
And yet as it was, I found when amerced in the details of sketching still-life renderings competing with sighted peers, I had to compensate with my visual limitation. I did this by jumping back and forth—looking very close at the subject to see details needed to connect defining lines and then draw upon memory. Thus with some form of natural artistic inclination, I had worked out the angular perspective in order to fill in the rest of various textures, shading, color and other definition.
However in the more academic A.F.J—R.O.T.C program, wearing the required uniforms, to the jeers of some of the other students was a strange feeling, but I’d rather be poked at that way, rather than put down because I couldn’t see very well. I thought it was “cool!” wearing the Air Force blue-Military dress uniform, festooned with a variety of insignias. In fact, Carol Johnson, our Special-Ed resource assistant, said I looked sexy in the kaki short-sleeved fatigues, topped with the dark blue cap. Up to that time—I never associated my skinny frame, described as being, or looking sexy, but that compliment made me glow with greater confidence
3.1. Dancing In the Sky
In the R.O.T.C Class, we students routinely answered to a formal roll-call, with some measure of firm conviction. Doing this, by responding with a snappy expression and in a Military way, by revealing our presence, saying—“here sir!” We then set about learning the history and nomenclature, of aircraft and spacecraft; including basic Military custom and procedure. All this involved marching in formation for Military Review; though Major Pakorni exempted me from this precision marching activity. That was because I simply couldn’t see enough to get the timing down, causing the others to over-compensate for my miss-actions. And so instead of the practice of military marching, I wrote several dazzling Book Reports on subjects, I relished, namely that of Human Space Exploration.
For the latter part of our junior year, we R.O.T.C Students planned a formal dress-Military Ball—of course, I asked Sherri Gillilan to be my “girl” for the occasion. She and I were nervous at the Ball, because neither of us knew how to dance; never-the-less we tried, slowly shakily, shuffling and feeling out of place. Where was the sexy confident guy? —I was more the confident guy in class when it came to technical detail, having to do with the Space Program. Always the first to raise my hand to show what I knew about Space matters. Also, the R.O.T.C Class Members took several Field Trips. These included a Trip to Castle Air Force Base near Merced, where I presently live. This was so we could participate in a Bowling Tournament.
Another fun trip was at Sharp Army Depot, where we took rides in Helicopters—and saw how they were assembled and maintained. It was exhilarating as we guys danced in the sky, strapped in securely, as the Air Craft turned at odd angles, with the doors open to get a view of the Air Field below.
3.2. “Moon-Fire”
During this period, the US Space Program was just completing the Apollo lunar Landings. Our R.O.T.c Class followed the events as they developed. I recall proudly wearing my Air Force Dress Uniform, as Apollo 17 majestically ignited into life, as it rose in the Midnight sky, lighting up the Kennedy Space Center, leaving for the final Apollo Moon journey.
So it was throughout the next year in R.O.T.C, that I remember the exciting Lectures concerning the intricacies of how these large Launch Vehicles functioned and how they were maintained; this was especially true, particularly having to do with an Apollo Applications follow-on project, called Skylab. At first, the Space Station experienced thermal and stability difficulties in the early going. Yet around this time, I purchased Norman Mailer’s book, “Of a Fire on the Moon; which was about the Apollo 11, the first Lunar-landing mission. Within its pages, this Historical event was told from a form of literature, but with a particularly different point of view.
I vividly recall Suffering through its pages, using only a magnifying glass -–and painstakingly endured its weighty prose, thus causing me to stretch the limits of my vocabulary, and would prove extremely beneficial as I read and then, re-read this volume over the coming years. However, our dog Kacey, while at home damaged my Original Copy of this valuable volume.
Although Over that extremely exciting period surrounding “the “time of Apollo”, one event stands out in a particularly sad way. It so happened that Sally Menzer’s Father had just come back from visiting the Kennedy Space Center, viewing the Launch of Apollo 13, the ill-fated voyage to the Moon.
Sally knowing that I cherished the Mailer Novel -–and after learning about my little setback, losing my copy, she had proudly gave me her Dad’s signed copy. As sally had signed it—“from your loving Daughter”. This occurred just after her Father’s untimely death. And then She had to tell me that her Dad suffered a fatal Heart attack, just after he returned from the trip. Despite this awful –and much greater personal loss, Sally, in turn, again thoughtfully gave me her Dad’s “Visitor’s Pass” for Apollo 13, a memento I cherish to this day.
Also it had been through that sustained effort as I worked my way through Norman Mailer’s book. And as I said—I developed an enriched vocabulary, thus gaining a better understanding of literature in general, gathering greater insight of certain Social morays and enlightenment, all based upon a greater level than ever before. And from remarks in the Press, it had been said that “Mr. Mailer’s approach to the work was a groundbreaking blend of journalistic reportage, possessing a novelist’s skill and personal insight”. Mailer, casting himself, as a brooding detached ego, dubbed Aquarius”. And then after his recent death, it was said of him—“he was one of the most provocative authors of the 20th century…” Still other remarks added “Norman Mailer stood at the forefront of the New Journalism—a form of creative nonfiction, that wove autobiography, real events, and political commentary into unconventional novels”. However this particular Moon Novel even to this day, had remained generally controversial and not all together appreciated, or even well understood, by those in some literary circles.
But, as the fortieth anniversary of the first Lunar Landing approached—a new release of the Mailer novel, under the title—“Norman Mailer, Moon Fire: The Epic Journey of Apollo 11”—complete with newly developed high resolution photos and additional Life Magazine commentary. This new edition also includes the now deceased Author’s Personal Notes—and the enhanced edition promises, I would think, a better appraisal of this interesting work. The hardbound, signature volume’s heavy price tag (complete with a “Moon rock” fragment) weighs-in at more than fifteen hundred dollars—way beyond the range of my pocket book.
Yet back in High School. Armed with the value of this apparent knowledge, my Art classes along with ROTC, were the only ones that I ever achieved an “A”.
So now with all this understanding of space flight, coupled with my keen interest in physical Science; I especially remember Mr. Toefer’s High School Biology course, one that was steeped in scientific nomenclature, was still foreign to me over this time.
All of this was quite often challenging; but Classes like these wouldn’t be complete without dissecting cow’s eyes,—and including the dissection of frogs. But a particular Class member named David Wemkin, whom many of the Students derided, were often poking fun at his last name, calling him “Dave the Wimp”; this was only Because of his quiet personality; despite that, Dave regained his stature when he brought in his pet Bobcat, which had been de-fanged and de-clawed. The Cat was fairly dossal—and overall, was an interesting curio in the Class—as we all investigated the animal’s behavior.
Then later-on—I fondly recall Mr. Jewett, the Chemistry Instructor who was teaching at the Junior College. His Clownish style and wildly curly hair had reminded me of a caricature, that of a mad scientist; still I found both some similarities between Toepher and Jewett, they were both tough instructors. Though I was about two years older than many of the other students; and The real fact was that throughout my School years, I mainly had been busy trying to bluff my way along, attempting to cope with the lack of eyesight. Furthermore, it was challenging to keep up while managing school-Science tasks, like peering through a microscope and using lab tools, especially when using Bunsen burners—heating-up certain elements for learning the changes of their chemical properties, in order to understand their chemical makeup.
Fortunately, my younger sister Claudia (born Claudia-Jean) happened to be taking the same Chemistry class with me. So she became my assistant, viewing prepared slides through the Microscope; thereby aiding me in interpreting our findings. Claudia was also taking a Biology class at the College a year later; but was in her words “grossed-out” by having to dissect cats.
My fellow Space enthusiast, Gary Mashado and I, by then were together taking a Survey course in Astronomy—called “The Final Frontier”. This Corse was named for the popular Star Trek Series of that period. Also I found that the Instructor was obviously enthralled with the subject, yet strangely enough had resembled in looks and manor, like that of a popular Astronomer, the late Carl Sagan; Although this particular College Professor was without the same qualities of Sagan’s voice. The diminutive Instructor’s voice sometimes squeaked, as he delivered his lectures. Gary and I did well in the Class, but we had to memorize a lot of material to pass our exams.
A good example of this was when Gary and I had to memorize the graph that Doctors Hertzsprung and Russell developed. This kind of diagram had to do with the Spectral characteristics, including their degree of Luminosity and to their apparent relationship to the “Inverse-square Formula”. These measurements help, in determining their brightness, distance and Chemical make-up of each of those Stellar Objects.
Therefore we find that general knowledge gained in even this basic overview of the Cosmos, has since dramatically and had certainly changed since then.—there will be more words on this subject, later on. Including my understanding of how the Physical and Metaphysical Realms define the very nature of existence.
3.3—Reasonable Accommodations
Well before all of this as a High School freshman I should have had some form of help, or assistance with “personal Advocacy”, which involved working out a viable plan for establishing a certain degree of “reasonable accommodations”, concerning my limited vision. For example, when participating in Wood and Metal Shop, called Industrial Arts; a particular Classroom Instructor did not give appropriate consideration, concerning my sight limitations. This would normally be by helping me with completing projects on time. But the real fact was that this character could not understand why I used too much paint when applying paint on the metal parts to the Hose Rack, that I made for one of my Class Projects.
And also this Instructor actually used that situation, as an excuse, giving me a D for the entire Grade for the Class. Then claimed that he didn’t have the extra time to give, concerning my: Special needs”. The much-maligned Instructor instead, just wanted to get rid of me. So I quickly learned a lesson about casting unfair judgments about someone that may appear to be different—and vowed that I would be more wary of these things in the future.
However as our High School experience progressed, we Blind and partially sighted Students were beginning to learn how to become more independent, when making arrangements for “special assistance”, such as acquiring appropriate “readers and scribes,” in order to keep-up with ever accelerating lodes Of assignments, dished-out by our instructors. It was a challenging task, not only for me and the other Students, but also for the Resource Staff as well.
For example, the partially sighted students used an enlargement projection device that looked like a big box. On one side of this box, a person could see the giant sized display—and could if desired, printout the pages in large print. Also from time to time I needed to arrange in advance various Quizzes and examinations, using someone from the Resource Staff to act as a Test Procter—reading the Test material aloud, as I gave my answers verbally. This was all very difficult, having to dictate, Essay type answers for these Exams; Further, I developed a fare-case of “test anxiety” throughout my educational experience.
3.4. “OJT”
Still another Program provided by the County “Special Ed Agency”, which was called the High School Special Educational, Work-Experience Project. This had further enhanced those autonomy-building skills. We “Special Vocational” Students were farmed out to a variety of Community Offices of the City and County. That was for gaining exposure to actual work environments, to get a feel for being on a real Job—Call it -OJT, for on the job training.
Each Student spent a two-hour portion of the day learning new tasks—so we began participating in the Program just as I did with R.O.T.C, in our junior year. And it was during those last two years of High School, which included exposure to such jobs as a Darkroom Tech, at Doctor’s Hospital, (now known as Doctor’s Medical Center) and a Film Inspection Tech, at the Department of Special Education—a County Library.
I recall at this specialized resource Library, the personnel used Microfiche photographic Equipment. This involved converting Hard-copy County Documents to Windowed, IBM Cards. These Cards contained the Microfiche items, which were used in order to build the new Database. And so I was instructed to work in a systematic fashion, when being shown the Procedure that involved carefully lining up the documents to be recorded, when using an IBM model 2000—Microfilm Photo copier. With this fancy machine (feeling like I was at Cape Canaveral) I became adept in using a special grid to line up the items more precisely, as part of the document conversion process.
Department of Special Ed Services, Project Chiefs Bernie Knawel and Jack Web, in their good-natured way, had supervised each of these tasks. Then while at the Hospital in the Radiology Lab over this time, as this Section was headed-up by Roger Haney. And while on the Job I learned to be careful, keeping developed film from being mixed with Exposed X-ray film, without confusing the various Patient’s film-records. Through all of this, I found that working in a darkroom was no problem for me, because of not having to rely on eyesight.
Furthermore, I learned to take the spirited ribbing from the Radiologist staff, as they played practical jokes on each other,—including me. But Mr. Haney our Boss—on hearing about a particular ploy, had expressed a great deal of consternation concerning the unprofessional behavior of his prankish Employees. In fact, at one point these guys had me standing, looking foolish while holding a bucket of water at the end of a Broom handle, placed against the ceiling. The guys had quickly tried to explain to me—who over this period proved to be a quiet, shy worker; as they tried to tell me that the bucket was filled with a special solution for sanitizing the area -–what “kind of bullshit” was this! But I later on in good humor thought of these shenanigans with that of the popular TV Sitcom, MASH.
Finally, the last position I held with the “OJT” Program, actually took place after High School, because this Program was expanded. That last work location had been at the Stanislaus County Library, where I was placed in the Audio/Video Department, under a paid work experience project; doing much the same work as was at the Department of Education, as a Film Inspection Operator.
At each of these locations, I routinely passed 16 -millimeter film through detection equipment, checking for film-sprocket damage, including wrinkling and shredding; then I would trim, splice and relabeled the film—as was needed. While at the Public Library, I had added duties, that entailed Running the “A/V” Desk, cleaning vinyl records—and also included checking in and out, Audio Video materials to Patrons —including running Film projectors for Public Viewing; I distinctly remember having to use a small monocular in order to see that the projector was properly in focus. Also, while in the Darkened room, I discovered that by keeping one hand near the film projector, I could tell that sneaky little children wouldn’t dare to wander too close to the machine, when showing Disney films for the kids on Saturdays.
Further, threading the older Bell & Hal projectors was a challenge for anyone. —I was glad a new and simpler Machine was finally employed, to replace the older equipment. And additionally, with this experience I got familiar with the earliest type of video equipment, having to make sure that I didn’t mar the emulsion on the Open-reel film, when handling the reels of tape—and Doing this, while playing back the black and white video medium.
Moreover, other duties included the handling and re-labeling and routing, of Bundles of film, tagging them for distribution to various schools throughout the County system. And yet At the County Library, which resembles the style of the Greek Parthenon, I found that Barbra Anita (my Supervisor) was especially sensitive to my individual needs, as I Developed strategies to offset my visual challenges. For instance, I used a semi portable CCTV, or closed-circuit camera monitor, called a”MiniViewer.” This specialized equipment was developed by a Company named “VisualTech”—I used this to magnify card-files, a trick I would eventually employ at other work sites.
3.5. “Dancing In the Dark”
During that same junior year, when the OJT Program originally started, I attended the Annual High School Prom, this time taking my good friend Debbie Stough to the dance. She was one of the long time students of our Blind Community, who would become President of the Stanislaus Association of the Blind, or S.A.B—we affectionately called it. Though it appears that I was more relaxed at the Junior Prom, than at the R.O.T.C Ball and having a good time. Over this Period, I think Debbie had a crush on me! Although I especially liked Roxann, who I took to the Senior Prom the following year.
With Roxann, It was thrilling and charming as we danced. However, one can see by the Prom Photo, that I had a frozen nervous look—Roxanne with her attractive smile. But it had been only a few years earlier, when Roxann had been found trying to coax Mr. Patterson, one of the sixth grade Teachers to reveal his first name—which was actually John, as if it were a big secret. John Patterson didn’t feel like being manipulated like that, in front of the class. I didn’t really blame him; he and Roxann would argue Back and forth, but overall you could tell that this sparring was mostly affectionate in nature. It was never the less played-out in front of us, an entertaining diversion.
Also I noticed that Roxann’s favorite hangout in High school was across the street from the Downey High campus; having lunch or Commiserating with the sighted crowd, at a somewhat seedy place known as Mamie’s Restaurant. Tagging along with Roxann, I ventured over there once or twice, but felt out Of place. Actually, I wasn’t looking for raw excitement; because I needed to maintain a more serious, sober type reputation, as I was one of those “R.O.T.C guys”. But in these next few years Roxann blossomed into a more mature young woman, who went on to greater achievements; including a turn at the Stanislaus Association of the Blind Presidency, for a couple of years. These days, Roxann is now the Independent Living Skills Specialist—and Braille Instruction Program Manager, at the agency known as the “Visually Impaired of Stanislaus”—or otherwise, called “V.I.PS”—which is now Modesto’s Present Organization that serves the local Blind community. From her Staff employment description, Roxann explains –
Caption) Staff Photo of Roxann Keys
“I have been blind since birth, due to congenital cataracts. After several surgeries to remove them, my eyes hemorrhaged, and my optic nerves were damaged. Never-the-less—“I attended Modesto Jr. College graduating with an AA degree; and then, attended CSU, Stanislaus. Then graduated with a BA in Sociology –and a Minor in Psychology.
Afterword, I worked at the Modesto Bee for 13 years in sales and collections. Then I became an Individual Service Provider (ISP), for the CA Dept. of Rehabilitation (DOR), for a total of 4 years, providing Independent Living Skills training and Braille instruction. I then came on board at the V.I.PS community) on January 4, 2010. I have now as of 2010, had been married for 34 years.
Both Roxann and her Husband Charlie, presently have two adult children—a girl named Katy and a boy named Bryan, now including 4 grandchildren. Charlie, who is a big friendly teddy-bear of a Man, had worked over all these years for the City of Modesto. It must be said that he and Roxanne, will always be remembered for their individual efforts along with the rest of the Blind Community; and even advocating for the installation of Audible Walk Signals for the now Burgeoning City.
But as it had been back in 1973, Sherri Gillilan—shortly after the ROTC Ball, had moved to Stockton for a year or so, while her Mother Norah was seeking greater opportunities when there. Sherri was at this time trying to gain better mobility skills at the hands of a strong task master, a black man, Ernie Harven, an O&M, or, Orientation and Mobility Trainer.
Sherri was apparently a bit too fragile, and not up to dealing with this tough approach from Ernie. So she was ultimately uprooted from this setting, returning To Modesto—and just before our Marriage, Sherri went to the Albany Orientation Center for the Blind, O.C.B, in the Bay Area. This was by then late 1974; although Sherri did not Fare much better with the Mobility Trainer she was assigned to. And perhaps making matters worse, Ann Wender—also physically fragile—Sherri’s Roommate, suddenly had died from Over medicating. Then to top it off Sherri returned early from the Orientation Center, because of chronic, upper respiratory Ailments.
Meanwhile the State Department of Vocational Rehabilitation, looked toward recruiting most of those of us who were Graduating as special Ed, Student prospects during our senior year. I was then asked to come to the local Rehab Offices. And while there was interviewed by Pat Hyne, who ultimately recommended me to the State Orientation Center—and after that, the Business Enterprise Program, or B.E.P. This was Rehab’s program for Vending Stand and Cafeteria Managers, or so called “Blind Vendors”.
3.6. SCUBA Diving
An opportunity for me suddenly occurred around this time that my Dad couldn’t resist. This was a chance for me to participate in a Foreign Exchange Blind Student Program, in Sweden. —I was invited to be interviewed in Sacramento. Over a hundred and fifty Blind and Visually Impaired Applicants were considered by Henry Negretti, who was the main Sponsor, whom I would come to know later, while in the B.E.P Program; and even after that, with our mutual involvement with “beep Baseball”. This was a form of Baseball, similar to the actual game, but especially designed for those who are blind and Visually Impaired. We will explore the facets of this interesting slant on “Baseball”, in a further Chapter. But as the SCUBA venture turned out, I was selected as an alternate; (number ten), in the group of ten that were chosen to go to Sweden.
Earl Quigley was the person that went instead of me. He was a tall and ruddy chap, larger and stronger than I was—and it was assumed that he knew how to swim. I appeared scrawnier in comparison and knew I couldn’t keep up with him. At any rate, I was Eager to learn to swim well enough. Moreover, the Foreign Exchange group in Sweden was there, for six weeks—and was guests of their Royal Navy. The blind Students were trained to SCUBA-dive, while each partnered with a “sighted” Diver, gingerly exploring a Three-hundred year old sunken ship. Still those “lucky bums” had the luxury of staying in a Castle during their tour, while over there.
Earl, evidently had some difficulty in Adapting to the SCUBA-gear—So wasn’t able to breathe correctly. Theoretically had I known about this situation, I could have made the trip to replace him. Yet in looks alone, Earl Quigley (as I said) was a tall and rangy chap, a tall long red haired kid —whose demeanor was that of a fun-loving guy, who liked Debbie Stough in High school—with me acting as a good natured referee, when they were around. They were always cutting-up and teasing each other. Earl with his Irish background would occasionally camp-up his humorous comments, by breaking into an Irish-brogue, making things rather interesting. So my good friends at the very least were evidently trying to get each other in trouble.
3.7. Eye to Eye
One day in High School, Debbie proudly popped-out her artificial Eye right in front of me, seeming to say ; ”hay Terry—See—lookie-what-I-got”! She said that she had a Medical Group from Stockton, D Danz and Sons, had just fitted her with a custom ”Sclera-Shell”. My Dad hearing about it was intrigued—and made some inquiries. Soon I had one fitted for my left eye, without it my eye would droop nearly shut. The skilled process of manufacturing the artificial eye had proven to be interesting.
Overall the procedure was somewhat Uncomfortable, as the oculists made an impression mold, by spooning a special plaster, made from (diatemetris earth), commonly referred to as, “DTE”. The Technician would put it directly into the eye, holding the benign plaster until it was just the right consistency—and then pulling it out. This caused the eye to gush profusely, as it rejected the gritty material. Yet in fact the whole procedure was worth the uncomfortable and painstaking Process, as the “eye shell,” custom-made to capture the color and specific characteristics of my real eye. This gave me greater social confidence by being able to look at someone, eye to eye, more or less. But by now, we were ending our time in High School.
People generally regard High-school graduation (in Cap and Gown) as a memorable crossroad Event in one’s life, leading to ever-greater horizons; however I don’t remember any particular thing for me that occurred at the ceremony, except for standing and waiting for the walk across the stage, making sure that I didn’t goof-up.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Shooting Star and Banana-lady”
Over the summer of 1973, a mutual friend we met through the Summer School Program named Terry Seals, was gun-hoe about the CB Radio craze, which was then popular at the time. —I enjoyed the Country tunes about the spoofs and guffaws associated with the hobby. So with this, Terry Seals got Sherri and I interested in purchasing radios from Sears—and helped us establish our individual CB Stations in our respective homes.
We were all aware of our friend Mark Lemmons, who was making inroads at MJC’s, Radio KRJC Station, on the College campus. Previously, Mark was a DJ for the Thomas Downey High School’s Radio Station, KDHS. By that time he was a Licensed Amateur, or HAM radio hobbyist, who could be seen carrying portable gear around the Area. In fact Mark’s High School Electronics Instructor, Max Sayers, said that if he were to pass the FCC Amateur Radio Exam, he would receive An “A” in the Class—as Mark tells the story… “I had to go to San Francisco and take the exam, and by-gosh I passed—earning the radio call—WB 6 BJN.
Within the Amateur hobby there was mutual disdain for The CB’ers, because of their alleged bad conduct, that often occurred over the Eleven-Meter frequency band. So this also involved lacking the requirements for certification, which were needed to obtain additional radio privileges. Just the same, we were all proud of our “CB handles which were; ”Hard Cider”, also known as, Terry Seals; Shooting “Star”, also known as, Terry Miller and not to forget “Banana Lady”—known as Sherri Ghillilan—soon to be Sherri Miller.
Terry Seals and I helped each other as we were both “partials”; still we were ambitiously engaged in erecting the large antennas; plus hooking Up Linier Amplifiers. Thus we could be seen ungainly clambering onto old rooftops and the like; though not able to see very well, thereby risking life and limb for the cause (or at least) wanting to get the best reception from our radio gear. In fact Terry would tell me with great delight at the time, when a live-antenna actually fell on him, singeing his Brawny—hairy chest. Also Terry would often tell me that he would occasionally receive a jolt when fixing the old style TV sets he loved to tinker-with; in addition, Terry’s Sister and Brother-in-Law, Tammy and Dave were equally involved with the hobby. They would offer to drive our CB group to special gatherings, usually at the Chuck Wagon Restaurant in Modesto.
It was over that” CB Summer” when Terry brought up the point that I hadn’t registered for the Military Draft. I was well overdue, reaching my twentieth Birthday that August. So in worry and shear panic we boys trudged down to the city Records office -–thereby confessing to the Sin. The County Officials made me sign an affidavit stating the reasons for not reporting. Flustered I said that I was “an ignorant Blind person” and nobody told me about needing to sign up for the Draft—what a Hassle”! But I got my Classification Card in the mail and all was forgiven, for such ignorance.
4.1.”MJC”
Soon it was time to brave the Community College culture. —I went through the enrollment process, involved with buying our textbooks from the Student Store; gaining help from my sister Claudia, and began the process of setting-up my class schedule with the Disability Services academic Counselor, who was Bob Williams. Bob eventually became a valuable compatriot over the coming years.
He mainly concerned himself with the many issues dealing with a variety of “Special-need matters” matters. So I then quickly found that the Modesto Junior College Student Center—a rounded—and vary large building seemed always to be filled with a mass of people of all different walks of life. Debouched within this collegiate microcosm, I began to notice that the so called “Disabled” Group had gravitated toward a set of tables, where all of them (including me) usually could be seen by others’, playing cards between classes—ditching them, or making plans for weekend parties. There was also a somewhat quieter section known as the Student Lounge, where Studious types could do homework, or otherwise try to engage in serious conversation.
In fact, it was cool! Meeting Mark Lemmons among the group of disabled persons, generally seated at one of those socially sequestered tables”—having lunch or making plans; waiting around, or learning a new card game; or just “bullshitting “with each other. The real fact though was my admiration for Mark’s personal abilities, had indeed grown over this time. This was based upon his willingness to venture fourth into a foreign environment. A great example of this involved the time when Mark was invited to embark upon a trip to British Guiana. And yet that intriguing idea actually had begun over a game of Cards, as Mark was challenged to go with a mutual friend, named Vernon Chase.
So as it was, Vernon was both partially Deaf and blind. He was originally born in South America. Mr. Chase evidently wanted to make some positive inroads within his home Country, British Guiana. These foreign concerns seem to stem from some problems surrounding a rather backwards approach toward dealing with blindness; and overall Vernon thought that Mark would be a great role model. He thought this would provide some positive influence toward these matters.
Then when they returned from the Trip, my good friend Mark recounted the salient cultural factors—saying that the whole experience was indeed tremendously memorable, although he said—that their drinking-water in Guiana had made him sick—and his subsequent flight home was much delayed, due to Monsoon Weather disruptions. Also Vernon and Mark found that based upon these so called “blindness” factors, that it would take quite a large financial investment to educate and change the common social attitudes, concerning “Visual Impairment issues. Still the same, I would have liked to have that six-week experience of traveling so far away, seeing things that we all here in America seem to take for granted. Of course, back then, I couldn’t know that I would eventually have some experience with World-travel, some thirty years in the future.
4.2. My First Real Job
While walking on Campus one fall day I overheard someone mentioning a job-lead down town, at Eleventh and G Streets. After Class I decided to check it out. —I don’t know exactly why—I wasn’t particularly in the market for work. After all I was drawing SSI and was living at home with my Parents at the time; but something about taking some initiative toward my immediate future must have stuck in my head.Also I found that the job offer turned out to be at Bill’s Safe and Lock, Security Alarms;
So I took an application home with me, filling it out. When turning it in—luckily catching the man in charge, Mr. Gary Weins, who was standing behind the Counter? His curiosity peaked—He must have been saying to himself—“why was this blind kid seeking work?” Then Mr. Weins asked me to come into his office—and we began to talk about my Intentions. Gary Weins was a retired law enforcement Officer, involved in a new Business Venture. So when he saw a potential opportunity, he jumped at the chance.
Soon I realized that Gary wanted to train someone that would stay on the job after investing many valuable hours of training for a Position. In this case I would be working as a “Central Station Operator”. Specifically, Gary was looking for someone that took pride in his work. There were also financial incentives associated with hiring a so-called handicap person, he therefore pursued to explore the idea.
“Central Station Operator”?-woe!—what was that? Furthermore “how was I going to get to the job”? For this kind of work I was told that the graveyard shift started at the ungodly hour of 1 am, each Saturday and Sunday morning—and ended at 9 am each morning respectively.
Shortly after accepting the challenge of a new Job, I found that this Position involved responding to various types of alarm systems; where they would terminate at a small enclosed room. This little room was arrayed with banks of lights and switches called” Multra-guard” devices. They signaled an incoming alarm –-so the task would be to properly respond according to the requirement of that particular Customer’s needs.
In addition, these so called Multra-guard devices had two-way speakers to monitor the activity surrounding a matching system, at the Customers actual location, as they were tripped by (hopefully, by a burglar) not a false alarm. The response by me—must be quick in order to enable law enforcement officers or, the Owner of the business, or our Service Crew to respond within an effective amount of time. Also I had to note the activities in detail presented in several forms of written Logs, and then respond to the on-call Locksmith or Alarm Tech, via two-way radio. There was a Phone Log, Radio Log—and an inner-office Verbal Log, to document the ongoing activity; and so once again I was allowed to use the portable CCTV from the College to do Homework during lulls on the Graveyard Shift.
This special CCTV –equipment was an early example of a form of “Access-technowledgy”—that enabled me to read and write the handwritten entries, in each of the documenting logs. Along with this—it would be of course quite necessary to see the Rolodex card file. Further there were types of alarm Systems that terminated at the Central Station. So this particular kind of readout just happens to be in the form of a Teletype style, tape-driven device that the full-time employees had to read and interpret As well. Yet during the course of the Training, Gary Weins stressed the importance of determining degrees of priority, making sure that all bases were covered in the order that was appropriate to the task; this was particularly evident during one stressful event, which occurred late in the evening, just before my Shift Had Begun.
I walked into a situation involving an alarm—alerting us emanating from a Liquor Store, where a Counter Clerk was shot in the arm by a Burglar. To our astonishment there was also an Alarm Tech who had been badly shaken. It was therefore incumbent upon me to get the Log entries entered vary precisely, not making any fact overstated or underplayed—as this information Might be used in a Court of Law. But after the beginning of the New Year and from reviewing my overall performance. And as well in light of the fact that Mr. Weins was adding new and different pieces of Equipment—virtually every week; we found that these things were necessary in order to keep pace with the changing Technology. All these considerations forced Gary to make a hard choice on keeping me as a viable Employee.
Furthermore, Gary Weins really felt that this kind of Job was too dynamic for my skill level—and due to the recent events with the shooting incident, he decided to let me go. Gary explained that there were just too many liabilities involved—and took too much of the Staff’s time, for Training me on new equipment, as I was only a Part-time worker. Gary genuinely liked my attitude and character, but he had to make the tough choice, and that was that.
4.3. Leaving the Nest
At the beginning of that year, 1974; Claudia and I were allowed by our Parents to establish an apartment together. It was near the College Campus and after all by doing this, it served mainly as a means of convenience; thereby enabling me to get to the College as needed. So we chose the Surf side Apartments as our new abode; but this arrangement would last for only a little while. That was because Claudia had an opportunity to move with her close friend Cindy Griffin; who was incidentally the daughter of The Storer Service bus driver, Joey Griffin, who was a longtime driver for Walter and Gladys Storer.
With Claudia moving in with Cindy, it just happens that Debbie Stough’s boyfriend Chris Hansen, required lodging in the area. Chris was moving from the Los Angeles area to Modesto, to be closer to Debbie. This was a perfect opportunity for Chris Debbie and I to be located more centralized, in order For our mutual friendship to flourish; thus-beginning the good-times and the so called, “fun-in-the-sun” era—by the pool, the parties would indeed Begin.
It also was a perfect opportunity for my girlfriend Sherri, to join this emancipated group; that is, being emancipated from our overly protective Parents. Sherri would stay with Debbie, as she would want to do during the summer to swim and be near me, and her other friends As well. We were all surprised to find Linda Miller (not related) living nearby —down stairs and across the pool area. Linda often invited us over to show-off her cooking Skills—proud of her special appliances and other kitchen gadgets; they were especially designed for Blind persons in mind. In time, Linda would also be in-rolled at the Albany Orientation Center, during my stint while there.
And yet Linda Miller who was one of the original Blind kids from Orville Wright—back when she was still a little kid full of natural curiosity. She had been evidently intrigued by the large World Globe in Ron Freightas’s Resource Room. She would occasionally run her hands over the sand textured surface, Feeling the shape of each of the Continents on the metal Globe; but Linda purportedly, scratched off the gritty sandy surface, until she erased about half of Africa. Quite honestly, perhaps it was more the case that each of us had contributed to the shenanigans –that of scratching-off of various places on the globe.
In fact, I really think I must have destroyed North Viet Nam, all by myself, not needing weapons of mass destruction—and a long drawn-out War. None the less, we were all interrogated to find out who was the “little culprit”—who would dare to do such a thing? —I think that Linda, under Duress, had confessed to the “crime,” and I suppose we all learned a valuable lesson from that experience.
Still, a better memory of that big blue Globe, or at least one like it, was when Mr. Freightas patiently showed each of his small Students the path that Astronaut John Glenn took during his historic three-orbit flight in February 1962. In another Volume of mine; Titled Pioneers of “New-Space”—Its Near-future Prospects Readers will learn from Mr. Glenn along with others, concerning their prognostications toward our next steps needed in maintaining National leadership, as a Space Faring Nation”. However, for now, it was back to the College scene—...
After Classes some of the better card players from the Student Center, along with Mark and I and Occasionally the girls, would get together at one of our homes, of which ever was empty on the weekend. It was then that we carefree College-types tried our hand at a game of either Hearts or Spades; but some of these Card parties got out of hand as the social drinking would bring out hidden, ugly aspects of our personalities. For example, we endured such incidences as—Sherri nearly drowning in the bathtub. That was when I was busy trying to help her clean-up after over doing it with the alcohol.
Then there was the time when we found Chris Hansen over hyperventilating with Asthma—poor Chris, hanging his head over the toilet, retching and trying to cope with the amount of booze in his system. So it was clear to everyone that we all were arguing and bickering too often, making it too difficult to get a Hand dealt correctly; so we finally put an end to these types of Card Parties. Now once again, back to class.
4.4. “...I Want To Bug Your Thinking”
One of the vital “survival skill sessions for first-time College Students was Charlie Fisher’s Guidance Lectures. —I could always tell him from the other Instructors. Because Charlie had a wide brimmed hat on –and was (at the age of forty-four) sporting a gray salt-and-pepper beard.
In his Guidance Class, pacing back and forth, Charlie Used phrases like;—”You see, I want to bug your thinking” (Or he would say) “Let me bug your thinking about this, or that.”—or whatever the discussion was about. Mainly Charlie Fisher was endeavoring to expand our perspective on social consciousness, regarding our naive assumptions stemming from merely following the Crowd, due to all sorts of social pressure, and not focusing our own views toward planning our immediate future. So Charlie, brashly from time to time would be presenting a lecture on Quote,—“Why I Think I Don’t pray.” It’s my humble opinion that he would base his general philosophical notions, more on the grounds of “Self-Actualization Theory,” (like the “I’m ok—you’re ok” theme) rather than giving direct credence to God. And on Campus I began to notice that there was some controversy regarding the fundamental Christian view, verses that of a more so called Humanistic one;
All of this mostly had to do with Human origins, involving a long-term form of Evolutionary development, rather than the Biblical process of “Creation”. Doctor Jim Ludlow, who was also part of the Counseling Staff, a Mormon, along with Charlie Fisher—portrayed as a staunch Humanist; they were both often locking horns involving these matters; still all this fervor seemed quite confusing to me during this period. Most of which had surrounded the subject of “self-inquiry.” With this, I tried to sort-out a lot of things attempting to come to terms with what I truly believe—and what I did not.
In the midst of this, over that time US Politics was going through a turbulent period; so I became intrigued with Randy Siephken’s “Poli-Sci” Class. For example, we Class members were steeped in the details concerning the Nixon, “Watergate scandal”. And through all of these things I could easily recall Mary-Lou Hakker, who was a dynamic Instructor, had influenced such ideas with her Sociology Classes; thereby giving me a greater foundational understanding of how various societies were formed—and how and why these political issues—and Religious as well as social conundrums originally developed.
I as well learned from Dr. Moore’s General Psychology lectures, discussing Human Behavior and the studies done with rats; this centered on the Theory of the Psychologist B F Skinner, and his so-called “Skinner-box experiments”. Through the process of learning about different social norms and customs, we Psychology students were told to display peculiar behaviors, like wearing our clothing inside out, sitting on table-tops, instead of chairs—and eating a banana sideways—instead of eating it in the more conventional manner. This was done to test the reactions of the other students—and their degree of acceptance of social deviants. But in my estimation I didn’t think that it had much effect. The other students were perhaps desensitized from being exposed to the social experiment too often.
For that matter concerning all of those other Students, I didn’t relish the idea of trying to stick-out like a “sore thumb”; mainly this had been based upon the fear of being different in the eyes of the public; thus stemming from my own perception—generally surrounding the notion of being labeled “visually impaired”. In addition to this, in order to satisfy the History requirement—I followed my roommate Chris Hansen’s recommendation, of taking Charles Bradford’s Class on Western Civilization; where we discussed the noted British historian Arnold Toynbee’s, sweeping theory of human development, called ”The Cycle of Challenge and Response”. Dr Bradford’s delightful British accent made Toynbee’s late-nineteenth Century ideas come to life.
Recently, I stumbled upon a Lecture Transcript from none other than the Late Blind Movement leader, of the National Federation of the Blind, Kenneth Journegon, who so elegantly had provided an Introduction to his theme, “At the Top of the Stairs”. Dr. Journegon’s main point had evidently been describing the “blind movement” in fundamental terms, regarding various forms of “social struggles—thus capitalizing on Toynbee’s famous remarks. The following paragraph comes from Journagon’s own material.
“According to this theory of Doctor Toynbee’s; …‘every civilization faces a constant succession of challenges and confrontations, and its viability and soundness, which can be measured by the vigor and nature of the response. It may meet the challenge head on, emerging stronger and healthier for the encounter; it may react defensively, desperately, leaving the struggle exhausted; or it may, at the first sign of threat, simply lie down and die”.
For myself, I found that my particular impressions regarding these Social challenges and vicissitudes of adjustment and of great change, was in my estimation, very engaging—and at the time—they appeared to be profound. Moreover, these theories on various physical and social factors, associated with societal development and adjustment. I therefore noticed that they had helped to form the bedrock of social awareness, not for only the blind, but for the other societal causes for change through this entire Period. However, one thing that was not at all developed, were my housekeeping skills, an also having to cope with the problems of living with a roommate.
Generally as things were I got along with Chris Hansen well enough, but planning ahead and anticipating over what was needed, or making decisions easily, were the basic things I was grappling with. In illustrating this more clearly, the following may well serve:
one day Chris was trying to warm an iron skillet pan, curing it with a thin coating of oil, so it wouldn’t rust. He left the stove on “low,” or what he thought was low. The oven button was put on backwards after cleaning, so the oven was actually on high. While leaving for Class, we guys planned to be gone for an hour or so, but we had inadvertently locked ourselves out of the apartment forgetting our keys, as we had to change into our Gym clothes for running the Track, thus working ourselves into a lather, on the College Campus’s tartan oval.
Both Chris and I had in a jocular way conspired to chase after an attractive girl named Kandy. It wasn’t long until we became oblivious to the loss of time, now ebbing away. In that moment, an idea had been building within—at least for me, which was evidently clouded by my own machinations of perhaps, “making it” with the luscious and sweet Candy-girl. But , by the time we guys cooled down from the heated run—and had gotten back to the apartment, Chris and I found a smoldering melted mess, with smoke pouring through the slightly opened window.
It was then that we discovered that we were without the keys, and I had to crawl through the window to rescue the scorched pan. The pan’s plastic-coated handle, had melted to the surfaces of the oven, but we were relieved that we didn’t start a fire.
Overall, it was actually nice that Debbie and Sherri’s apartment had been located just two doors down from ours. So for a time my dear friend Debbie called Chris and me “the bachelor boys”. Being her neighbors, it was more convenient for Chris and Debbie to get together—and they proved to be a happy couple. Also it had been quite obvious through the little things Debbie would say—little things like she was extremely proud of Chris—that he was “a good catch”. Chris purportedly had several offers from other girls down south, where he previously lived.
The two of them had initially met at Camp Bloomfield, a Camp for the Blind and Visually Impaired, in Southern California; fate had interceded—and now, Chris and Debbie were engaged to be married in June. In fact, I had the Honor of participating in their Marriage ceremony, at the First Baptist Church on “M” Street, in Modesto.
4.5. “But I’ll Learn to Love Him?”
Our mutual friend Terry Seals, the CB buddy, who happened to be romantic by nature, that is, As long as it had to do with someone else bearing the burden and responsibility. it was that this dear friend of ours, had nevertheless attempted in a caring way, tried to coax Sherri and me toward a more romantic relationship. Terry Seals actually, quite openly, brought this up in front of Nora, Sherri’s Mom, though Nora didn’t seem to have any problems with the idea. Sherri and I got along well as it was
So about this time it just happened that Sherri and I were invited to participate in Charlie Fisher’s late afternoon “Encounter Groups at the College. This was a voluntary group session—sitting in a circular fashion. This supposedly was to allow the participants to remain on equal terms, to discuss and assess one’s approach in life—and the ultimate reasoning behind various decisions, that guided their future.
On one particular occasion as Sherri and I talked of our Marriage plans—the group quickly became hawkish toward the idea. This got our backs up, then Sherri and I walked out in a huff. And later, I went by myself—back into the proverbial “lion’s den once more. Then the group blasted me personally for pressuring Sherri into Marriage. That only galvanized my resolve to seek out an Engagement Ring, for the one I love. Then I went straight away to the nearest Jewelry Store—and promptly ran into my older Sister Jacki.
Being very Surprised, I took two steps back, saying:
”What are you doing here—Sis!”
Jacki said—”Well, I work here Bro! So what are you really doing//?
Then I cut her off, quickly replying —”I’m buying an Engagement Ring for Sherri!”
Jacki exclaimed, “A Ring”?
I said,” yep”—
she was somewhat flustered—but Jacki continued…... ”Well, Mr. Hogren has a great selection…”
Although a bit shocked, Jacki’s expression showed that she was genuinely happy, that I decided to Mary Sherri; but my Sister was more interested in how I would break the news to our folks. I was afraid of broaching the subject with Dad. So Sherri and I both set down with Mom —and the main thing mom wanted to know was “do you love him”?
Sherri’s reply was surprising to me. “I think I do”.
When press by Mom, saying—“You only think so?”?
Sherri said—”well… I’ll learn to love him”!
I actually had no clue of what this meant. —I was only thinking of my own feelings. Along with this, I assumed—“Oh well, It will work itself out”. Then, when the time was right, I presented the Ring to Sherri, at their home, in front of her Mom just days before she was due to leave for the Training Center, which would be at the Orientation Center for the Blind; and I distinctly remember that this was October of 1974.
Sherri gleefully accepted the ring –and it seemed that it was quite apparent that she loved the small Diamond pedestal within the setting, with Rubies around –and expertly placed in the Ring. I at least thought -–like most Guys would, that she would be proud of an Engagement such as this.
Thus it was, that most anticipated date was set for July 12 1975. The Ceremony would take place in the Oakland LDS (Mormon Temple) and a reception was planned in Modesto at my family’s home the same day. In fact, our own Wedding would only be one Month after the Hansen Marriage. Further, we both found that the Oakland Temple was awesome in its grandeur—and quite Opulent in design; but the family and our friends could take pictures only outside of the building.
My Bride Sherri with my sister’s help, had been wonderfully dressed in a beautifully designed traditional white Wedding Gown, along with fresh baby breath flowers in her hair; and I was adorned in a pale Yellow Leisure Suit, accented with an open collar, autumn floral designed Silk shirt. My Dad and I had picked this kind of attire for the Occasion.
But Nora didn’t understand that she couldn’t be present for the Ceremony in the Temple, because she (Norah) wasn’t a member of that faith. And with This formal stipulation, I could tell that that fact really hurt her feelings.
Still, we all enjoyed the wonderful occasion, thanks to the collaborative talents of my Sisters, who contributed to the overall decor of the backyard Reception; because the color scheme for the event was done-up in various shades of Yellows, and the Wedding Cake was decorated in yellow and white Icing. Sherri and I had a splendid time with feeding each other the traditional piece of cake; but having a hard time finding how exactly to scoop, a bite-sized morsel into each other’s mouth, without making a mess. Thus the two of us were happy as we began the uncharted world of matrimony.
Our Church Family (Second Ward members) found for us a small Flat Over on Orange Street, near the College, not far from the bowling alley. And yet, we newlyweds received from our Church friends enough items to setup a comfortable home. That being an old wooden white structure, with a little apartment up stares from the bottom residence where we lived. Soon we bought a portable Washer and Dryer, on our limited credit. In addition, the little place had its own gas Stove for heating in the winter; which was by that time when I had to leave for the Orientation Center. Also, our Landlords were curious yet nosy neighbors. They were an older couple and seemed to be well meaning, but asked a lot of foolish Questions about our Blindness.
It was often during those lonely hours, while Sherri was waiting for me when I was at the Center. Sherri found through the week, that she had to light the little stove for heat, using long matches—and I nearly hit the roof when I found out; though what could I do.—I didn’t want my new Wife to burn down our little, somewhat rickety abode—assuming that others would be of help; however all of that only goes so far. Indeed Sherri was proud of lighting the little stove; but she couldn’t see the scorched markings on the carpet. Admittedly, it was a big challenge for two” blinks” to live independently. It takes a lot of savvy;
But one form of savoir-faire that Sherri possessed was her natural ability while playing musical instruments, like the Piano or Organ. In fact, from the age of three years, Sherri was mimicking tunes, as she would play excitedly on a little toy piano. Harry Henderson from Groveland California, was a family friend who was so impressed by her Musical talent, had made a generous offer for us to buy a Cherry wood Lowry Organ, for a mere 720dollars. Sherri and I made a small payment each month.
Sherri’s favorite repertoire, barroom ditties was a big hit wherever she performed. Her favorite tune was “Last Call for Whiskey”, yet we weren’t much on drinking. Nora would often tell the Story of Sherri, when she was still very young; they were invited to Audition based on her natural talent, before none other than Lawrence Welk. Also, Sherri and Nora, as the story goes, once rubbed elbows with the likes of June Lockhart, famous for playing the heart-warming all-knowing Mom, on our Favorite TV Shows, “Lassie”—and “Lost in Space”.
As a young couple, Sherri and I cherished our large Jim Reeves record collection—and we messed-around with the CB Radio, keeping up with the local Radio group on the air. But, I particularly liked the aroma of Mr. Henderson’s Cherry wood pipe Tobacco, as he cheerfully enjoyed his smoker’s pleasure, whenever he visited. Harry either liked to listen while puffing on the pipe to a variety of tunes, or when we would find him tinkering on the prized Organ.
Moreover, Sherri’s favorite food was bananas, hence her CB Handle, “Banana Lady”. She did pretty well, cooking flavorful foods too; always having a big friendly pot of hot chili on the stove. Sherri also loved to experiment with different blends of spices and seasonings in Casseroles; including preparing meat entrees—and could make salads desserts etc. Nora dutifully helped her daughter because of my frequent absents; thereby giving her encouragement and advice over these lonely months.
When I could get away, I would travel via the Greyhound Bus; Arriving from O.C.B on the weekend, fairly late; then, I would tap my way the few blocks, using my new Cain, when going to and from the house because the Bus Station wasn’t far from home. So with these quick visits Sherri and I would amiably find ourselves chattering back and forth, catching up on the week’s happenings and then making the most of our precious time alone before I would have to leave once more, returning to the Training Center.
4.6.”The Modesto Blind Spots”
Jerry Cole, the aforementioned gentleman who was making some inroads through community activities, concerning those who are “visually impaired”, was also the main catalyst in establishing a local Blind Bowling League. Jerry, a Sheet Metal tradesman, who helped build the Memorial North Hospital in Modesto, had lost most of his sight due to complications from Diabetes. Further, as part of Jerry’s adjustment and Rehabilitation plan, which had involved a lot of outreach efforts—he had Shirley peaked our interest; thus causing Several in our blind group from High School—and those at the Modesto Junior College to become involved in ”social Bowling”. This was all started by the summer of 1973.
I think it was Ron Freightas who showed us how to assemble a special piece of equipment, known as a “bowling rail”.—remembering when we saw it Listed in a Blindness, Aides and Appliance catalog; then at last, when the equipment was ordered and finally received, we got together and practiced on Saturdays During the summer of that year. We all found this type of competition very exciting.
Over this period, “Markus-in-the-darkis” Lemmons (who is now my fellow Amateur Radio buddy—and also, a dedicated and knowledgeable Meteorology enthusiast) through his out-going talents, he had along with Jerry Cole begun to assemble a formal Blind League. The League was known at first, as, “the Modesto Blind-spots”—a name I actually coined, which was in a form of a pun concerning a particular bowling term -–so was relevant in a general way to the subject of Blindness. .
My friend Mark, even back then, was looking to get the Department of Rehabilitation to send him to Radio Broadcasting School. And from what I remember at the time, he was just completing Training from the Self Reliance Institute (SRI) a Program for the Blind in Los Angeles. However Pat Hyne, Mark’s Rehab Counselor was fairly cool to the idea, that of using Radio Broadcasting as a viable vocational goal. Pat knew that the Department would not allow her to fund such plans. She ended –up sending me, not Mark, to Sacramento, to scope out a Company called simply, “the Radio School”, as a vocational area to explore. Mark tagged along with me, at any rate, at his own expense and I enjoyed his company.
In the Meantime, our designated RCB, one of the Rehab Counselors’ for Visually Impaired persons, was Bill Reeves. Apparently Bill was not allowed to bowl with us on the league. This was due to the fact, according to the Department’s policies, that it would be a “conflict of interest”. —I wondered what kind of politics was going on—and exactly what the perceived differences between partially seeing—and totally blind individuals had to do with their true capability. Why the favoritism toward partials’. We Members of the League all knew that Bill was a compassionate Counselor. He was partially sighted himself. However, Eventually, I regretfully learned of his tragic fall aboard a Cruise-Ship, as the rumors had it—causing him to become completely paralyzed.
None the less, our local bowling group over several meetings, began the task of finding what we needed to know about establishing an affiliate League of the national Organization, known as the ABBA, or the American Blind Bowlers Association. Karol ”Stix” Pilgrim, a statistician from the Modesto Bowl, helped us write our local League rules; this was a requirement necessary to comply with the American Bowlers Conference, (the ABC) thereby including our own “ABBA” Rules.
Over this period I recall that Gene Cocks the Bowling Center’s proprietor, had always been interested in promoting these kinds of efforts, as he was instrumental in facilitating League play, for the Special Olympics groups of the developmentally disabled adults;
that’s where my brother Craig for many years, had participated in Bowling. This was through the Howard Training Center. One of the high points for Craig while in the Program was having a fabulous time at a Bowling Tournament in Anaheim (this of cores included a day at Disney Land).
Overall, our particular blind league was made up of Squads of two persons for each team. We Bowlers gave these teams imaginative names to distinguish them from one another –-just as it was the case with other Leagues. Both the individual and Team’s handicap averages, would balance the “team’s strength”. In Addition to this, bowling a series of games established the overall performance average. We Members developed categories for either; “Sighted,” ”partial,” and “Totally Blind bowlers.
To assist each of the blind Bowlers, the League had provided a “person known as a “Spotter” for each Squad; the Spotter’s main job would be to let the visually impaired Bowler know what Pin combination was left after the first ball was thrown. Further, the Spotter was responsible for keeping Score—and turned in the Scores after all Games were played.
When using a Bowling Rail, which just happen to be a special contrivance that was made of aluminum tubing—designed for defining straightness; one discovers that these types of Rails also were made with differing lengths, for individual team desirability. Typically, we used the Rails by trailing our fingers with one hand, and with the other hand, we would grasp—and then with some finesse, attempt to control the bowling ball, releasing it, as we approached the line. What’s more, each of the rails was supported by the weight of four other balls, which were set up on the approach. They were aligned, either with the left or right channels. Finally, all Team members were expected to assist one another, in both assembling—and then disassembling the rails after bowling a three game session.
4.7. “Are You A Turtle”?
For the most part the bowlers enjoyed regaling their fortunes, at winning or losing the weeks’ set of games—and ruminating over the rules, as to their fairness. After the games, you could find us in the lounge, ensconced at the Turtle-creek Saloon, in the Modesto Bowl. I eventually discovered through general enquiry why this quaint establishment had that curious name. The answer was found on the doilies, displaying the somewhat smutty—“turtle routine”; “are you a turtle? Turning over the little doily as one reads, perhaps guffawing over the answer: “You bet your sweet ass I am”.
I of course was familiar with this little ditty from some of the humorous banter coming from the (original seven” Mercury Astronaut’s—and their hilarious form of one-upmanship which stems from membership in an exclusive card-carrying club called, “the Secret Order of the Turtle”.
One of the rules of the organization, was when ever asked a particular question; you must answer quickly, without hesitation. The Founder of this a-gust Organization was said to be perfect and wise in all things; touring every drinking establishment that the colorful fellow could find, thereby seeking other like-minded “perfectionist”-types”—of certain imbibers’. And As the story goes, the wise gentlemen had placed a bet, putting-up his beloved Donkey as part of his wager —and then promptly lost, losing his “ass” as it were; hence the required response; “you bet your sweet ass.” Further, it was widely known that the Original Mercury 7 Astronauts were all good drinking chums -–and were thereby obligated to comply with the rules Of the Club.
Now that you know all the pertinent facts, let us continue with the colorful story. So the chosen chimp, I mean chump—uhh, brave Astronaut, would be lying on their back, strapped in. These guys as you know would be awaiting their silver-clad sortie into Space. Yet these men who were of “the right stuff” caliber, would fly their respective Missions, securely strapped in.
However, in all actuality, they would find themselves helplessly stuck within the Capsule’s cramp quarters, for hours on end—on their backside, much like a helpless little turtle—unable to extricate themselves from the “Capsule” -–Oops, I mean, “Spacecraft”.
After all, the lonely—yet brave “Star Voyager”—now stuck out there on the pad. And by some happenstance just might need to take a “P”, (becoming in Astronaut parlance) a “wetback”). That is with the help of gravity, which would be through this particular affect, would invariably cause the moisture to pool toward the center of the Pilot’s back. So the Astronaut would dutifully remain there, “plugged in”, as part of the total system -–while fully involved with the technical process of Launch operations.
The fact is the entire procedure was usually watched by the World over. What’s more, this proud pioneer whom we have grown accustom—seeing on live TV, was in their own mind a one hundred and sixty-six pound—or so “Guiney-pig”; one who actively had been conned into taking part in this hare-brained scheme.
It was even said that somebody had been over heard—saying that these guys were perched upon a live-rocket, that had been actually produced by the lowest contractual Government “bid” -–and yes,—that He would now above all, be obligated to answer to that all-important “turtle routine”.
Finally, after many practice flights of riding into Space—and looking forward toward hurdling “their little pink bodies” into the unknown—doing something stupid like that,—these guys would silently muse, “How did I even get here? And we, the Joe-Q-public, would later find that each of the Astronauts would often pray—“Oh God—I hope I don’t “screw the pooch”! This was of cores a crass-way of saying that they had better not do something, absolutely unforgivable.
So for the moment, as I found myself lingering in the lounge, I was thinking… Oh well, I’ll sit here, and sip at my drink –and allow my polluted mind to ponder over all of these pending ramifications. –and why the hell not—all I’m doing is just sitting on my little pink, benumbed ass—and of course, floating weightlessly, as the hypergolic mixture of orange juice—laced liberally with tequila, including a bit of grenadine—all of which was by this time beginning to seep into my neuron-depleted Brain -–and yet, even the barstool -–obviously by now was so elegantly serving as my little launch pad.
Thus deep in my stupor us state, the time was now ebbing away. And In In such a condition, I saw myself moving through some form of a timeless morass; doing so, saying to myself, I only plan to be here for just a little while longer. Sitting so quietly next to my reluctant crewmate—my “Astro-dog-guide” companion (who was at that time Patrick) and ready for launch. With the bowling ball safely stowed and of course—without a doubt, it would serve nicely as ballast;
with all of this, I thought at the time that it would be for the ride of our lives; and I’m sure that my trusty dog guide—who was embarrass over the whole ordeal by the end of the day would be to a fair degree, be hopefully, guiding me safely home. Now back to reality.
Inevitable Changes would soon be afoot -–that is, as things were—toward the end of 1975—I would be leaving the area for a seven-month period. This was to participate in the Orientation Program for the Blind, in Albany California. And I would even compete against my own League, having to bowl a set of games while representing the San Francisco group. Then as it would happen, our Bowling League would eventually transition to new surroundings to accommodate our growing organization.
This had occurred by moving the blind bowlers to Mchenry Avenue In the early 1980’s. That was when I had already left for the Sacramento area, so was still deeply involved with BEP.
By the mid 1980’s, Garrid Marsh the Mchenry Bowl’s new proprietor, generously gave Mark Lemmons an ideal opportunity to help develop a position as a Bowling Promoter. Fortunately, through this arrangement and with careful handling, so as not to create proprietary conflicts; it happened, based upon a fair degree of trust among the League members, that Mark had been repeatedly elected as our League President. This good fortune enabled both the League and the Bowling Center to benefit. We even found a new “watering hole” in the local Lounge, as a place to commiserate with one another, including gatherings at annual Super bowl Sunday parties.
However from the view-point of some of our bowling Spotters, who just happened to be Mormon Missionaries; and who were helping out on their day off. These young adults were in conflict with their Religious teaching, though were quite perplexed, because they couldn’t officially take issue with the apparently “sinful temptations”, surrounding the “friendly barroom atmosphere”. This kind of liaison between the Missionaries and our League was done on their day off—and was strictly based on providing a service, to meet our so called “special needs”; yet not judging our Religious views.
I really found all of this interesting, as I was officially a Mormon. Despite these factors—and upon observing these youngsters (who were on average—nine-teen year old young adult men and women. They were really squirming over this situation. It was of course tough for me, one who could understand both sides, although I wasn’t interested in letting on as to my personal background. Frankly, I felt that it was none of their business. Basically, I was trying to rationalize my actions; and over this time, I slowly determined and finally had concluded that I no longer shared the particular Doctrines of the Mormon Faith; but at the same time, I personally had to come to terms with the occasional flirtation with drinking boos with my buds. After-all, I was still young enough to require lessons from life’s little teachings.
Chapter Five
“Set One Left”
I left for OCB in December 1975, commuting back and forth most of the weekends, using the Greyhound bus in order to see my new bride, of about five months. Eventually, I learned to travel more independently, doing this by utilizing other transportation systems; thereby practicing this important mobility skill, many times over the coming years. However it was for now important for me to learn how and when to ask for directions when lost; and to prioritize my actions and also generally how to travel more confidently, doing this safely.
So as I arrived at the Center, I found that those of us who were “partially sighted” were obligated to use blindfolds, called “sleep shades,” as we participated in each class. This was done in order to gain a clear perception from a “totally blind” perspective. So this idea was based upon a particular philosophy stemming from “The National Federation of the Blind”, a proactive Advocacy Movement—made up of Blind Citizens which was quite prevalent at the time.
Moreover, I discovered that on the O.C.B Campus there were Classes such as orientation and mobility skill building; including specific Sessions dealing with particular legal aspects that concerned “Blindness”—or Visual Impairment, Social concerns. There were Classes devoted to learning Independent Living and grooming skills, such as cooking and sowing on buttons, including methods on how to match clothing—and much more.
The Director of OCB over this period was Mr. Allen Jenkins, a pioneer in the “organized Blind” movement in California. He guided us through the social and political elements including the legal basis by-which certain State and Federal Statutes, covering laws on Blindness had been written. Even today I can still hear Mr. Jenkins voice resonating in my mind, as he spoke in his slow deliberate heavy manner; puffing on a cigar, as he chanted his mantra—”The State plan, must provide…” (For this and that) and so on.
Yet the real breaking point was while being “Occluded”, (described in official terms), or perhaps in plainer language –-having to be subjected to wearing a blindfold for each Class Session. It was horrible enough being required to Use that awful “sleep shade” a lot of the time. The real fact though, was that I quickly found that it was always difficult when trying to cope with this day-to-day situation. So now, Summonsing my courage, I tried to act in a “macho manor—attempting to wear the sleep shade continuously for several days, but it proved to be more complicated, especially when trying to eat meals as quickly as I was accustomed to; not finding food morsels easily. In addition, showering was a frustrating problem, because of getting the blindfold too wet.
However I really enjoyed the experiences participating in the cooking class, that of course mostly had to do with getting to eat the food we made; still again this involved braving the dreaded sleep shade; it had been quite evident when flipping things like pork chops in a pan. So as an example, we Cooking Students did this with a special spatula, that happen to have a top and bottom scoop to stabilize the food portions, while lifting and transferring to a plate. In This way each occluded Student would be able to check with their fingers for the proper cooking consistency, before releasing the individual portions—and hopefully not losing control of the food.
Also I tried learning better organizational skills through some well-defined guidelines; this was done in a variety of settings throughout the simulated apartment, used for developing Independent Living skills; although even that kind of training was not too much of a problem. But a good example of this was sowing on buttons as it was still helpful, learning to use a little gadget, to guide the thread through the needle. Though at times I found this boring and tedious—that is, basically thinking it was kind of a girlie thing. Again it was quite a different experience having to wear the sleep shade, as I casually went about the campus—bravely learning my way completely “in the Dark”—as they say.
5.1. “O&M”
Another integral part of our training was of course the actual Orientation and Mobility Training, which was a progressive process during our stay at the Center. Rich Russo was the Head O&M, Orientation and Mobility Trainer. He paired us up with various Mobility Specialists overseeing our individual progress. So at first it was all fun as if it were a game, when I initially tried to wear that dreaded sleep shade continuously, enduring it for a period of three days.
I must confess, that I had begun this with a great deal of naive exuberance. Yet in getting about, I miscalculated my bearings several times—then falling into bushes when approaching the main doors from the outside of the Center. And also there was that infamous long meandering sidewalk, known as the “snake-walk” to reckon with; it seemed to never end.
But with some encouragement from fellow Students and Staff members, I gradually progressed to the nearby streets. So the basic Plan was for all Mobility Students to eventually learn certain cane techniques, such as using the proper wrist action and rhythm, while carefully tapping” our way along. At first, learning to keep the street side on our left, that was called the shoreline. We were taught to assess the local environment, finding door entries –and picking-up directional “sound-queues, noting surface textures—and surveying distances with our keen ears, as we progressed through the training template.
Over time, we were becoming ever more independent, busily learning our assigned street route; always paying attention to what direction we were traveling—thus learning to trust our own judgment. In addition, we “mobility newbie’s” were taught to detect the proper approach for locating street corners. At the same time, we learned the feel of a streets’ up and down curb, that would insure proper footing before making a clean crossing. Also we Travel Students had to be very careful when crossing busy streets; and we were doing this by reading the individual patterns of traffic movement, as we made our way along. The key elements of these traffic patterns were the nearside, left and Wright turning lanes—and the all-important center lane that gave us the signal to go; doing this only as the light changed from “red”, to cautionary yellow—then finally to “green” as each car responded accordingly.
We of course were not able to see street lights, being oblivious to that. Though our individual O&M Instructors who were at times stationed somewhere along the route–- fully knowing that each of their Charges were filled with a sense of trepidation; yet with stealth, they freely moved with us, watching our every step; as we generally became Sensitive to the feel of the long white fiberglass cane. This was the one mostly used in training.
Author’s NOTE:
Certain Techniques used today are different, mainly due to the development of different types of Cane Tips—that handle a variety of surfaces, encountered while traveling. So the “arcing, tap-tap” approach—is therefore modified to accommodate the differing “tips” used, based upon one’s more personal desirable method.
5.2. “Tool Logic”
One of the more interesting Training Classes for the guys was Wood Shop; headed up by two Instructors, Ken Vieira and Peter Ortega. This type of Class was designed for developing essential skills for working in dynamic or potentially dangerous environments. That included learning to communicate clearly and to follow precise instructions, as our assigned Instructor closely supervised us. Further, each of the Shop Students first learned every location, of the various workstations. Then each tool or piece of equipment and its main function, which involved understanding a concept known as “tool logic”, meaning the Wright tool for the right job. That involved a principal known as “layout and manipulation” proficiencies, which had to do with focusing on organizational and timing skills. So we Students eventually progressed to more elaborate equipment, but only after learning basic manual tools; thereby learning how to feel and measure accurately, with special raised-line gadgets.
We did this by using rulers that had click stops and measuring tapes with special raised markings. Also, we Shop Students were taught How to mark specific points, using a dowel punch, counter-sinking, for driving in wood-screws —and cutting more precisely, using handsaws. We guys even learned how to make angle-cuts, using a miter box. Finally we learned how to efficiently tap in nails—and a hundred other things, too numerous to mention. Of course all this was important to understand the systematic processes involved in designing wooden pieces. This included Cutting and painting or glazing—and then gluing those parts together.
For example, a variety of vice grips held certain parts of our projects in place for a given time, before we could move on to the next task. But the exciting stuff was indeed learning how the industrial shop equipment functioned. Each Student became familiar with equipment such as the Drill Press, Table Saw and Radial-arm saw. However, the Drill Press was particularly tricky, because the operator had to choose the correct drill-bit for the Wright purpose. This exercise involved lining-up the piece that we wanted to drill into. This had to be done very precisely, making sure that the chuck” around the bit was properly secure, not allowing the “Drill-head” to slip——and drop on your hand.
But the Radial-arm saw was one machine that I ended up not working with very much. It included a long device that we employed to support pieces, when cutting large and long, or thick boards; however, the Table Saw was a” “nail-biting affair”. No pun intended.
With this, as the Operator you had to insure that all components, such as the “bridge,” the “Guide” and the piece that you are cutting does not bind. Upon making that particular cut, the correct blade must be assembled and carefully locked-down, perfectly each time, or the blade will indeed bind, grabbing the wood piece you are cutting -–and then flinging it back at you with some great force—not a nice thing when you can’t see it coming. In fact, it would happen so quickly you wouldn’t know it until it was all over. A projectile like this can run you through in a wink, “ruining your day” as they say. And yet, unbelievably, this vary thing almost happened to me.
One day I was working with Mr. Ortega, as usual, everything was done correctly; but the large piece of plywood had too many knots in it—and it bound-up, then flew at me hitting right at the belt buckle; instantly, I jumped out of the way, because I knew exactly what that little tap meant. Being a bit nervous as it was—and remembering the shocking old black and white overly dramatized Training Films, from Shop Class in High School. This old film showed gruesome industrial accidents’. The unfortunate guys in the film were carelessly using the shop equipment incorrectly. The message being, don’t do this! It was a sure bet I wouldn’t.
By now, with those images flashing through my mind, I was feeling flecks of sawdust collecting on my hand, while holding the guide—and the vibrating roar of the motor, as the blade now dangerously churning. It was cutting oh so close to my shaking fingers, though was overjoyed that my day was a” good one”. So somehow, I maintained sufficient trust through my Instructor, Pete Ortega, in order to begin my first Project. We planned to make a beautiful Mahogany Cassette case, with two latchable in-laid folding doors.
So with the Instructor’s lead, I Started the Project by building an enclosed box, using “rabbit and “dado” blades for the various cuts from the saw. Then eventually it was time to carefully fit them into place with glue; having each piece “viced” into place, using “shams” to protect each part while the glue dried. For assembly, on one side of the box I laid in a thin piece of plywood for the back. With the other side of the so-called box, I made a thicker, crosscut with the Table Saw, This resulted in becoming the left and right pieces for the doors.
With the next step, I precisely re-measured to insure that the particular size for the shelving needed, was actually achieved; this was for fitting the individual tape cassettes. This step determined whether I had been precise enough for getting a proper overall fit.
I next prepared small pieces for the shelves—gluing them in place Within the Cabinet. Then, I added felt-like material to line each of the five shelves. The last assembly step, involved attaching the latch——and hinge hardware. After the Cassette Case was lovingly hand rubbed with Danish oil, it was finally pronounced finished. That hand-made piece is something I still use to this vary day, spanning more than fourty years from the time it was created.
Now with Ken, the other Instructor, I made a beautiful Typing Table. The tabletop section just happen to be from that very piece of plywood, that I had some trouble with some weeks earlier. Out of this came a creation—of which I was surely proud; but In order to begin—I had to measure all parts precisely, throughout its assembly. So to make this even possible, everything had been smartly trimmed with Basswood.—and had been notched and fitted by hand. Then I had painstakingly sanded and lacquered all of its surfaces. This was to bring out the natural luster and texture of the beautiful wood. Thus without experiencing the step-by-step process, with the earlier project, I wouldn’t have any means to accomplish such a task of designing and building this kind of table; though it was done with the wonderful help from the ever-present Instructors—guiding me every step of the way.
5.3. “Bead-Pushing”
A very different class in my estimation was “bead pushing”, or what Henry Kruse our Teacher had called it. This involved the mastery of an ancient Chinese calculator—called an Abacus. In fact, some people were capable of using this small frame, comprising parallel rods with rows of beads—and manipulating them with only one hand. One term commonly used in the class was the expression, “set one left”, an important function for Abacus Use. Yet we Students would banter back and forth, using this term, playfully throwing it around as a verbal rejoinder. We would sometimes run into one another in the hallway, saying—“Hay bucco—“set-one-left.”
I’d be rushing to my next class where John Besere who quietly and patiently was waiting for the rest of the Students to arrive, to begin the Braille lesson. John had a slow western drawl and I needed to be patient myself, in order to get through the tedious class. These Lessons were necessary for me to bone-up on my Grade Two Braille, this was something that I wasn’t using vary much over the last few years. Instead, I was using large print just to get by.
5.4. Coping
I quickly found that my dorm roommate was a quiet sort of guy, just like me. However, he was a closet drinker; but I never felt compelled to say anything about that. It was generally known anyway, and so long as the drinking didn’t get out of hand, most people seemed to overlook it. One evening this roommate personally asked me if I had “a problem with him taking a drink in my presents. —I said to myself, “Well—what could I really say, would it change anything”? Then I confidentially had told him, that he could have a drink when I was in the Room with him.
After all, others belted down a few, as they allegedly tried to cope with their adjustment and bereavement over their loss of sight. Surprisingly I found that a particular acquaintance from Modesto, struggling with substance abuse, would be a far worse example of this. In fact I could hear this poor guy on those weekends when I stayed at the Center. He would be alone in his room yelling and cussing, throwing empty bottles on the hard polished Linoleum floors, bottles splattering to bits. We Students were quite nervous –and weren’t supposed to be witnessing this kind of drama unfold, but this was real-life drama, just the same.
5.5. Let The Show Begin!
The Drama of the imaginative kind came in the form of a Production, we called—“In the Good-old Summer Time”. It was a love-triangle Spoof set in New York’s Central Park. The story included an Irish Cop who arrange for two shy young lovers to meet on a park bench, in the “gay-eighteen-nineties. The Show was a fun thing to do because it had a number of lovely songs and catchy lines in the script. In one scene, the couple wanted to take a romantic cruise, but found that there was only a “banana boat” from which to choose.
We got this idea from a fellow student who was Jamaican, who had a penchant for bananas. He had the perfect accent for the part of the Cruise Salesman. As the young man in the story was reluctantly stepping into the boat, he resignedly asked for one of the oars.
To The boatman, casually asking—“my ore”?
The British boatman, who was hard of hearing, asks—”You’re what!”…
The frustrated young fellow again, saying—”My ore”!
British Boatman, not hearing well —saying, “You’re what?” The fellow—who was by now exasperated; “you know the ore”!
The boatman—”ah, oh-wah that One! Why you bloody fool, she’s already in the boat!”
We all knew that this was an old but funny line; and we couldn’t help not to pass it up when using it for the performance. The Play was a gift of sorts for the benefit of the Centers’ Staff. Also, this Original Production would headline such characters as John and Larry Gassman—identical twins. They did impressions of well-known Barbershop quartets; so at times each taking the part of two performers. We guys could hear them belting out their old tunes, echoing in the shower or in the hallways. When performing their parts in the Play, “the Gassman brothers”, were very adroit in delivering the key comedic Lines, with a professionalism that shined throughout; but we mustn’t forget Harry Bernard and his Ragtime piano, “pinging” along, in step with everyone As well.
However the Master of Ceremonies was nun-other than me! In this Old-time Radio style Play, I had the job of describing the scenes as they opened for each act. Doing double duty, acting as the Sponsor, “Maxwell house Coffee. With the tag line “Good down to the last drop.” I was caught there on the spot, stammering and stuttering from nervousness; but it would prove to be more comical that way. So the act turned-out to be a great hit.
Another big hit at the Center was Rick Kaybridge—An imaginative and talented virtuoso who performed parodies of certain personalities, from those presently at the Center. Rick, mimicked Staff and Students alike, and he developed little ditties, with his Classical Guitar, to go along with each of the skits. Later, I got a chance to go with a group from the Center to see “old golden throat” Jonny Cash, at the Circle Star Theater. He, his Wife June Carter-Cash, and their band were performing the tune, “Ragged Old Flag”, for a live-album.
We all sang along an applauded with every song; and were thrilled to be there, seeing Johnny Cash in his prime—and for the first and sadly the only time. Recently, the Movie about Jonny Cash, “Walk the Line”, was released upon his Passing—and I eagerly bought the DVD that honors his Career as a singer and Songwriter.
I also for the first time on another OCB trip got to see the Oakland A’s at the Coliseum. On the Baseball Team Roster for that year in 1976, there were Star Players; including Pitchers such as Rollie Fingers and Vida Blue -–and a guy called “Mud cat Grant. There were Infielders like Bert Campaneris, Sal Bando; other Fielders included Gene Tennace, Joe Rudy, Ron Fairly and even Willie McCovey, who was in his waning years as a Star Player. Joe Rudi’s Brother Paul played ball in the same Pony League as my own Brother Tom. Ron fairly became my favorite Radio Play-by-Play Announcer for the San Francisco Giants, after his Baseball career had ended.
However, as far as Bowling was concerned, the Local Bay Area Blind League had regularly bowled at the Albany Center, which included some of the group from San Francisco—and at that time, their League had established a Tournament which was hosted by Bob Franklyn and Co. They all allowed me to participate in the Tournament. But it was determined by their League rules that I would have to compete against my own league from Modesto. In addition, the VisieCapps from Salinas joined the competition.
It was great being able to see my own league mates after several months of not being able to bowl with them. Also, Bob Franklyn, who was a lively black man—diminutive in stature, turned out to become a fine friend with our own group from Modesto whenever we were in the Bay Area. Bob Franklyn reminded me of Sammy Davis Junior—”bee-bopping” around, being quite Whitty—yet helpful in every way; but it was particularly sad to hear of Bob’s premature death, due to Reynaud’s’ Disease a few years later.
5.6. The Moment Of Truth
Now it was that my time at the Orientation Center—as it was swiftly coming to an end—things were getting down to “the moment of truth” concerning independent travel in the community—wherever that community may be. We Mobility Trainees had a final exam as it were, called “Two Hour Travel”. We had to individually choose and negotiate an excursion on our own. We Students could utilize any public transportation other than a cab, to complete a trip within a two-hour time limit. So it was my task to travel from the front of the Center, on Adams Street, and go into San Francisco, then finding a particular restaurant in a Hyatt Regency Hotel.
I chose to use BART, the bay Area Rapid Transit System. The nearest Station was across the street, at the El Sorito Plaza, on San Pablo Avenue. As far as I could tell concerning the exercise, everything was going swimmingly. Then things began to quickly unravel. This bad situation had started when returning from the Plaza to cross San Pablo Avenue again;—
I ended-up only crossing halfway through the six lanes of traffic, unknowingly landing on the middle island, and thinking I had completed the Crossing. —I made a left, to turn into the Center’s driveway sidewalk, the so-called “snake walk”; but actually I hadn’t.
I instead was marching along with my White cane waving, with my sleep shade on—the cars, zinging by me Left and right. It was clear that I was in no man’s land without a clue, until I ripped the dang blindfold off to get my baring. I then quietly and quite sheepishly tiptoed into the nearest Bar for a drink, to calm my shattered nerves. Then I found out later that this one was called the HotzieTotzie; but to Mr. Harry Bernard, the ragtime, rinky-dink pianist, it was always the”Hitsi Titsi”. This was I’m Shure an apt phrase and for a place perhaps for all us lonely guys to frequent, rubbing elbows as it were; or, by chance rubbing against (a cute gal) or something else as the case may be.
Since I arrived back at the Center in one piece, with the Restaurant’s paper-flier in-hand, Mr. Russo listed me as a viable—world traveling “blink”. —I was of course proud and happy to be going home—”Back to the Grindstone”, as in the hit-song by legendary Entertainer (who was mostly well known in Blindness circles) this of course was Ronnie Millsap.
Chapter Six
”Let’s Get It Did”!
The Modesto Adult Blind Club
and the Stanislaus Association of the Blind
(1940’s through the 1990’s)
For many years in the local area, there was a social organization known as The Adult Blind Club of Modesto. However, we the younger generation were at the right age to begin to fill the void, brought about by the dwindling interest and support in the more progressive affairs of Blind and Visually Impaired persons, within the Stanislaus County area. After all, many of the Club’s members weren’t getting any younger—and we the “young whipper-snappers” of the main Group, were eager in establishing all of those necessary services. .
Thus it was over this time where we became quite busy planning the means of providing an official voice, for those of us who now chose to band together; and ultimately,—with some astute management; becoming the Organized Blind of Stanislaus County. In fact, we all knew that there was some fair representation in the Stockton area, at the so called Stockton Blind Center. We even found that The Center was located at Fourth and Pearl; so we looked toward gaining some support from their constituency, for some advice; and along with these actions—had begun a sometimes difficult transitional period, as all of us had to consider the ways and means of transforming the Adult Blind Club of Modesto, into Stanislaus Association of the Blind
I recall the time when Sherri was still in Stockton—with me occasionally getting to visit. Together we ventured out on foot to try to find the Stockton Center, then promptly finding ourselves lost. Sherri ended up with badly blistered feet from wearing new shoes. At length we located the Center, and discovered that the group had been quite generally neighborly and helpful. So it was in similar fashion; yet without the kindness, sensitivity and knowledge of the membership of the Modesto group, through which Mr. and Mrs. Albert Halc’s leadership had clearly shown, we would for Shure, have a more difficult task with this process. And as a certainty—the older folk would not have the where with all to cope with such change.
Still, there were several Club Members who refused to adjust their thinking, as this tended to be a most frightening kind of thing to do, especially when that someone may be not so young. To illustrate this more plainly, at one point during a particularly, heated discussion at a meeting, Lyman Cash an older cantankerous character had suddenly lashed-out at Jerry Cole, who was a highly respected organizer. Apparently Lyman Cash had, as the story went, jumped over a table and struck Jerry. So Jerry in turn struck back mainly in self-defense; but raw feelings expressed in this manner, were rare. So we were driven toward the conclusion that the key to all this was to make that process of change, a gradual movement toward adopting goals that we all could agree upon, while creating service related activities.
We did this by working within our own group first, and then, and only then, had begun thinking of outreach toward the Community, instead of sitting around playing Cards and Bingo. Still one particular thing the Blind Club had going for it, was the fact they had amassed a large amount of savings in the General Account, for the purpose of establishing a permanent physical location for the local organization. This vary thing was exactly what those of us were requiring, in order to develop a base of operations, for our so-called service organization. Eventually, when the time was Wright, Mr. Halc allowed a transitional election to take place, and the group installed Jerry Cole as the Club’s President. He then setup a Committee that would hammer-out new Bylaws; that would be the governing basis for our new Organization.
Manual Gonsalves, who as you might recall from an earlier Chapter, was one of the first totally Blind School Teachers in California; so had served on the Blind Club committee as the Chairman. However, as in the words of Jerry Cole, with his quaint Oklahoma drawl, and proud of his Cherokee heritage; Jerry as President was eager in pushing matters along, and would often say, “Let’s get it did”! Thus the Stanislaus Association of the Blind was born; but during Jerry Cole’s tenure, one thing that got him into somewhat of a pickle, was a situation that I would term as—“the Blind Club’s “weaver’s Loom debacle”.
Jerry, in good faith loaned the MJC Community College several Weaver’s Looms that were used in hand weaving skeins of Yarn into Tapestries—and the like. Some of These Looms were quite large antiquated things, no longer regularly used. In the deal, somehow the length of time was not well established, according to mutual Terms, as it should have been done in written form over a defined period, like in a formal Contract; therefore These Looms had fallen into someone else’s hands—and were lost or misplaced.
This particular issue was severely irksome to those older folk, that evidently over time had poured allot of effort and love into these works of Art, from a seemingly outmoded contrivance, which was used from a pursuit born of the past. Jerry of course felt bad—and embarrassed over the matter; and I’m sure this problem gave him grey hairs. Still another factor in my humble opinion—weighing upon Jerry’s health, were the mental and physical pressures of the on-going fund-raising efforts that he had applied toward promoting the Organizations he favored. So over time,
it was becoming obvious to us that Jerry’s diminishing health—caused by the Diabetes, prematurely had aged him—and inexorably ravaged his body. As Jerry’s declining health continued—first taking the rest of his eyesight, then suffering the amputation of one leg—and then the other; Jerry was finally bedridden—feeling helpless. Eventually giving-up—he curled into a ball; that was the thing that had caused ultimately his death. Unfortunately, we younger folks could only watch this tragic and sobering fact of life unfold before us. Indeed I had no way of knowing that in about twenty years or so, I would lose my former Wife Patty in a very similar way. And unbelievably, I would contract type two Diabetes, some ten years later.
Meanwhile, as for now, Jerry Cole was survived by his beloved Wife, Carol—and his teenage Son, Jerry-Junior. Carol Cole always seemed to be tireless and supportive toward the Organizations that Jerry was fond of. Nevertheless she was still considered by many, as a great volunteer. After all, we will always remember Jerry’s backyard hobbies—like when he was busily cultivating his prized Orchids, he had caringly grew in his hothouse. Jerry worked on this with such vigor. That particular project had involved converting it from a Gazebo—and I had the pleasure of helping him with various chores over one memorable summer. Also Jerry showed me how he used his Wood shop equipment that he kept in his Garage, with me getting the chance of exercising some of the experience that I had learned from the Shop, at O.C.B.
Fortunately the Department of Rehabilitation purchased some of this equipment in order to bolster Jerry’s confidence—and wellbeing, through his overall adjustment toward his loss of sight. All of us held him in high regard, and we will always miss him.
6.1. John Strong
One of the major things that Jerry left to us was the way he showed us methods for reaching out to the public, like maintaining the established Fund Raising Contract that the Adult Blind Club had garnered from a showman, named John Strong— with his annual Circus Extravaganza. John’s Shows over the years were evidently quite spectacular, before us youngsters” got involved.
A rousing Show beneath the Big Top to me sounds exciting, any time, or at any place—but “Times “were-a-changing”; and we had to adjust to accommodate the proper perception, which was based upon current public appeal, of today’s standards. This contrasts the by-gone days of the Carney-like atmosphere; which sometimes suggests the image—that of a form of beggary—“Bread and Circus, for poor unfortunates. This is usually historically attributed toward the Blind, with the proverbial tin cup—and an Organ Grinder; along with the cute little monkey beating a drum.
Even to this day, I fondly recall our Association’s Executive Committee Business meeting, gathering with John Strong and his partners; joining them at the local Red Lobster Restaurant, in order to set up the Contract. For many years, John traveled from his homeport –-hailing from Yucaipa California. Then he would move with his Show throughout the year, with his annual State Bookings. Although with his advanced age, John brought along his positive and ebullient attitude. Though we found that he was always easy to work with, telling us colorful little stories of past Performances. However I winced when he told us that he too was struggling with Diabetes. Despite this, John was a real “Showman”, with a lot of Class and charisma. This was all very true, even as he had to pare-down his Production to an indoor, so called ”dog and Pony Show”, because of rising costs. This eventually dwindled away our share of the Profits to a mere token, reluctantly, forcing us to look for other ways in funding the needs of the Association.
6.2. Funding the Group
Manual Gonsalves was not exactly interested in keeping The John Strong Contract. He based this on feedback from his sources in the Community. Even though it was clear that the Circus-type Entertainer’s contract, was practically the basic means of providing the current—and quite necessary funds. Manual, now as the New President had promoted greater activism within the organization, had been thereby charged with the responsibility to look for alternatives, in order to produce better financial resources.
So as a local group representing the blind and visually impaired, we all pulled together by participating in events including garage Sales, selling Light bulbs, such as cake and cookie Bake offs—and had even sold Candy bars. All of this was under the auspices of our State Blind Organization, which of course was the California Council. These things were the methods used in keeping us alive. In addition, we Stanislaus Association Members got annual donations from the Local Lions’ Clubs and from other groups in the area. Several SAB Members were encouraged to join their particular Organization, to obtain their favor.
Later on, when Debbie Hansen and even afterward, when myself as Association President, had tried even more innovative methods for raising required money. This type of funding was in the form of bringing to local venues, name-entertainers by various promoters. This included crowd pleasers such as Oldies groups, like The Drifters—“the Coasters” –and Country stars, including Lacy-Jay Dalton and the group, Shenandoah. Our particular organization would receive a portion of the “gate receipts” based upon this as a charitable ploy. This all sounded good—at least on paper.
So it may be said that we Association Members were all caught-up in the dazzle of meeting famous people; but in reality, this was not worth the effort. The percentage was only about one fifth that of the net receipts. In fact, our blind group was not at all comfortable simply being branded as a “charity”; because we were a provider of services to the community itself.
The real fact was that it proved to be difficult to monitor the cash flow independently. And this is doing it without employing a separate Accounting agency, which of course was something we couldn’t readily afford. That would of course involve the tracking of a large cash flow; then trusting “outsiders” for giving an honest accounting of the financial picture. So we were always much too trusting—and assumed that trust would be returned in-kind. With Business Arrangements like this, there needs to be a way of setting aside these monies in an escrow account, or something similar, which would eliminate any form of temptation. So it was while making financial decisions; it had always seemed to be a daunting process. It was controversial most of the time. However, as an Organization, we seemed to overcome any differences so we moved forward the best we could.
Yet on the financial front, Gary Mashado as the SAB Treasurer—over several years, was the right person for the job. He again as he would do for the BEP Program, would show me the basics for keeping the books—thereby setting me on course to succeed or fail, one way or another; which always seem to be the case in the business world.
6.3. The Old Cavell
In 1984, that Christmas, I was surprised with a Tandy 2000 Color Computer from Radio Shack; but I found that the text display produced adequate text size, only if I put my nose to the screen, in order to see. And then, I found that its rudimentary color graphics with this kind of display, at least was good enough to provide a decent degree of contrast—enabling me to write and correct my work; that is, as long as I moved carefully through my sorted tasks.
Eventually I brought the machine to the SAB Office, to do accounting tasks and also to write correspondents. But sadly, the Computer was damaged at the office in 1985; that was when we moved the SAB Office for a time to larger quarters. This office setting just happened to be located in the old Cavell Theater building; but to my horror, water had pooled from above, damaging the insulation from the ceiling, which fell in on my prized machine. So the Computer had to be taken completely apart, to be thoroughly cleaned.
Fortunately, a co-worker, working for my Mom, named Bill Ball, was quite knowledgeable about the innards of a Computer. Bill happened to have the tools on hand—and carefully disassembled the thing down to its elementary parts. Then he air brushed each component, saving the machine. A bit later, we SAB Members found that the well-known Cavell building, which was a Modesto landmark, had been by now earmarked to be demolished; but the City was still looking for Tenants that were willing to pay for its complete renovation. The large building was built before the time when my family first moved to the Modesto area, back in the late nineteen forties.
As a matter of fact, My Dad had a corner section as his Jewelry Store. Though when using the Cavell office space over time, it became quite apparent that Short-term efforts by People such as Frank Welte, who had a knack for building upon such existing organizational structure was very helpful; whereas from time to time, other Members had a tendency of being too militant—and much too abrasive for our type of group.
Just the same, there were People like Steve Guerenger who was always kind and helpful, especially when he and Mark Lemmons happily worked together as a team—working with the Promoters, as they were involved with acting on our behalf. But at one point a timely pro bono audit by none-other than Gloria Allreadd (who is now famous for high profile Court Cases) had cleared-up any financial concerns, which were at the time deemed necessary from the point of view of the California Council of the Blind, our Parent Organization. Eventually the Cavell relic finally gave way to the demolition ball, forcing us to move back into our smaller quarters. This was across the street from our favorite hangout; and as you might guess this was the good-ole’ bowling alley. .
6.4.”Stix”
Early on—before 1985—if memory serves, we Association Members had several temporary locations, to hold our monthly meetings; this was before we finally found the convenient office space, which was across the street from the Modesto Bowl, at thirteenth and “K” Street”. That seemed ideal until we needed the additional space. Having these downtown locations over the years always seem to serve as a great focal point for both Blind Services.
And so as it was, our bowler’s Statistician named Styx Pilgrim, over these years had used one of the back rooms to our 13th Street offices, as his residence. He lived alone and was slowly dying of Cancer. We never discussed this openly—yet were dreading the fatal day. But in the meantime, he helped us with various equipment problems. And that was especially the case with the old Thermoform machine, used in order to make copies of Braille documents from. This mechanical device required heat-transfer, as a process allowing a copy of Braille to be formed onto plastic sheets, instead of paper. The machine was donated to our group from the County’s Special Education Services some years earlier.
Over that intervening time, when the SAB organization was in full swing, we noticed on some Mornings the savory aroma streaming down the hallway from Stix’s residence. Stir-fried veggies and spicy morsels of chicken or beef, marinated with exotic ingredients, were pleasant surprises, especially when our good old friend shared some of these tasty treats with us.
It so happened that Stix kept a dog named Titan, a name that belied the pooches’ small stature. He was a typical Chewawa—the resident alarmist. However one morning Mark and I discovered a frightened little fellow, locked behind Stix’s door—Titan letting us know that Stix was in trouble; it was much too late, as Stix had died in the night. Now in a panic, we needed to have the door unlocked. So Mark and I rushed over to the Bowling Alley across the street, breaking the news to Gene Cox, the Proprietor. Our suspicions were sadly confirmed—and poor Titan had to find a new home.
Speaking of homes, Sherri and I lived only a few blocks from the Blind Association Offices, as we were living over at our Orange Street residence. Bus rides were still infrequent; so we got about, mostly on foot, as we were all young enough and still full of restless energy. Yet some of that energy was beginning to reveal itself on other levels; namely our Marriages. As Mark had his own troubles at this time; but we shall see as far as Sherri and I were concerned, were destined to become sadly, irreconcilable ourselves.
Chapter Seven
”A Follen Star”
My Marriage with Sherri on the surface seemed quite good, but I wasn’t aware that beneath, there were some undercurrents that required attention. I loved Sherri vary much—and wanted her to be happy; but she wasn’t. In fact, I started to notice this when she made excuses for not wanting to go to Church. My Dad had baptized her a few years earlier, as he was an Elder in the Mormon Faith.
Clearly, no one ever force Sherri to go to Sunday Meetings, but one Sunday morning she lashed out at me. —I was helping her with a button on her sleeve to her dress. I must have pinched her accidentally. Sherri Swung out to hit me and caught me on the thumb, bending it backwards. This had certainly surprised me -–and that sudden outburst was probably the cause for her unhappiness, including the fact that I was spending too much time with our friend, Terry Seals. This had aggravated her—and other little things I said and did; all that was building up some major resentment.
Then, a couple of Sundays later, when Sherri woke up crying, saying that she wanted to quit the Church and at the same time, she wanted out of the Marriage. That to me was something that came way out from left field. It didn’t add up. Sherri said that she only loved me just as if I was her brother—and that she was moving back to her Mom’s—and I wasn’t going to try to win her back. Of course I was shocked, what could I do!
After all of this, I spent more time with Terry Seals, needing some Solis. Then the Church tried to intervene, but this only resulted in having Sherri being called to a Council of Elders; and she a few months later, chose to be excommunicated from the Church. Over time, The Mormon Church had actually annulled the Temple Marriage, which was rare. Because the Local Bishop needed the Authority from the High Council to dissolve the Marriage on the grounds of abandonment, that of the Temple marriage itself; and the lack of activity within the Church as a whole.
Sherri simply didn’t care regarding the Churches’ position—and I was by then angry—and didn’t care either. —I simply cared about her happiness, which was the only thing that mattered. At length I made several unsuccessful attempts to reason with my Wife; but alas she never budged from her position. So we were by then separated;
I drifted from one friend to another, mainly spending those summer months of 1977 with Terry Seals, living the bachelor life. His little shack was in South Modesto. It was within the poorer section near the Airport—and Orville Wright School. We guys were contented with cooking up a large batch of Fried potatoes and the like. And so while listening to Elvis “oldie-but-goodie records”—trying to live on the cheap. However, in order to assuage the grief, we splurged, buying some “boy-toys” -–thus enjoyed shooting pictures with a new popular Polaroid Instamatic Camera, which used a new instant-print film format.
However in order to pass the time more productively, Terry Seals and I attempted to repair some Open-reel Tape Recorders, trying to refurbish and sell off these old machines to others; although we seem to need new parts which ate-away any profit made from such a sale. In addition, we found that with our poor eyesight, we both had to use magnifiers along with high-intensity lamps, in order to see what was necessary, to get the machines working again. Also, our mutual HAM Radio hobby had kept us involved with other Radio enthusiasts.
Meanwhile, Sherri with her Mom’s help filed the Divorce Papers, seeking Irreconcilable Differences—and asked that Sherri would win on Default, if I didn’t show at the Proceedings. By then it was early 1978, when the Divorce became official. My Sister Cathy had just gone through a Divorce at about the same time—and there was room for me at my ex-brother-in-law’s home, whose name was Rossen Townsend Sr. So we guys would spend a sad and lonely Christmas of that year, 1977, together crying on each other’s shoulders—and asking one another what went wrong.
Into the New Year, I ended up back living in my Parents’ house. This must have been in the spring. Because, by the summer, my folks began an ambitious task of major home remodeling. This project involved enlarging the kitchen area, expanding the living room. This included dropping the floor foundation to give the room greater height, allowing for a skylight. This made it possible to bring the outer wall to the far edge of the original patio line -–so as to add length and width to the existing Room. And then adding a substantially larger Patio that joined a new Redwood decking area.
My Dad and both of My Brother in-laws which included Cathy’s new Husband Rod, along with Bob, Vicki’s Husband and my brother Rick, all had helped with the labor. However the plan was not exactly agreed upon as when to begin, because my Dad actually started the project—in an impromptu way. He did this by taking a sledgehammer and in jest, at my Mother’s dismay, had broken through the Stucco outer wall to their bedroom—so the task was at hand. Though it turned out to be beautiful due to the fact that my Parents were after all, building Designers and could anticipate the common pitfalls associated with such a task.
7.1. “All God’s Critters”!
When all the dust had settled, Dad complemented the expanded living area with a large custom built three hundred gallon saltwater aquarium, complete with several beautiful and expensive tropical fish. Our favorite was a Queen Angel, we simply called Queenie. Other fish included a Lion-fish, a Batfish a Clown Trigger fish, Moorish-Idle, and even a Moray Eel. The Eel, with its fearsome looking teeth, would occasionally jump out of the tank in the middle of the night. So Dad had to weight down the lid to the tank with a heavy object, to contain the slippery thing. The Mora Eel, eventually was found dead, because it had slipped—one to many times through the filtering tube assembly.
Dad eventually expanded his hobby, to include other fish with tanks in other rooms—, using them for special “Hospital tanks,” to isolate, ailing fish, when necessary. Later, Dad laid plans to renovate a portion of a building for establishing a saltwater aquarium retail business, that He dubbed “The Golden Reef”. We even dug a Pond to fill with Japanese Carp near the front porch, which was again built of redwood decking. This included a little bridge that led to the front entry.
He had the task nearly completed, when an electrical power supply was disconnected, by someone in a Church group, who were sharing the other section of the building. Those good Church members needed that power cord connecting his main line to the array of Fish Tanks, filled with an expensive inventory of Fish, all of which subsequently had died in the process. So my Father, who was by then boiling mad, stormed into the Church in the midst of their Sunday Meeting. He by himself was preaching at the top of his lungs, giving them “holy hell” as it were; Dad seethed with fire and brimstone before it was all over, because of their callous disregard for his property.
Although my dear Daddy had a softer side, and liked Birds. So years earlier had made a Sixteenth Birthday Present, of two African Lovebirds, giving them to Vicki. Now presently, he added to the menagerie of fish and other household pets—buying a Myna bird, named Hoppy. The bird was hilariously funny as Mynas’ tend to be, when trained to talk. So Hoppy developed quite a vocabulary, saying things such as—“Well, we caught the cat”—or “I got a hot date somewhere”, and then he would call out for “Brownie”!—evidently the cat. And also called for his previous owner’s name, saying;” David! David!—Where are you”. Then, my enthusiastic Father began to add other Birds to the fray, to give Hoppy some company, such as Fonsie—a green and yellow Cannier Parrot, who talked as well. Then there was Freddie, a white Cockatoo, like the bird on the TV Show “Berretta”.
Each morning as a routine, Fred who stayed near Mom in the Shower, was in the habit of watching himself, preen while facing the steamy mirror; However we must not forget Bubbles, a cute little Coccateil, who “flew the coop”—early on. Thus in those years, the family had a cacophony of bird sounds filling the air. At times, they were quite loud. The birds all responded at the same time, whenever the phone rang—saying; “hello”—hello”!
Finally we remember most Mackie, a colorful long tailed Macaw, and a talking Parrot with a child-like disposition. He would get caught in the top of a tree and call for his Dad, saying; “Daddy! Save me”! He had a bad habit of yelling loudly, crying—“Help! Help”! My Dad had to save the stranded little brat more than once.
In addition there were other family pets over the years, namely cats and dogs. This Included Tony, the large yellow cat, like a tiger —Dad playfully had antagonized. And also, there was the dog named Beebe, Cathy’s brown Poodle—described briefly, earlier) who liked to roll in the cow paddies across the street, after being shampooed and clipped. Then Kacey, Dad’s German Snowzar—who had a crooked front tooth. And we would never forget Shammer, Claudia’s Irish setter. Finally, there was Birdie—A beautiful female Wheinryner.
However one time in the middle of the night the family was rousted from our beds, by a horrendous commotion. It was all the birds shrieking from terror. We only saw the shadow of a stray-cat, streaking by and feathers flying about, showing flecks of blood—the birds shouting—“Mommy, Mommy”! My youngest sister Bev (Born Beverly Renee) ran over to rescue each of the birds in their turn, as she captured them, calming them and checking for injuries.
Such are the stories passed down from generation to generation, with their proverbial embellishments, thereby adding to still other enjoyable tails, like the following kind of family lore.
With our large gatherings, we invariably would tell of the stories of my youngest brother Tom, smuggling into the home, a white rat that he tried to conceal in a drawer in the bedroom. Tom of course tried to keep this from his father. But in the night the sneaky thing got loose. The next day when we Kids were quietly looking for the missing critter, Claudia had stepped back on the step of the boy’s bedroom, accidentally squishing the poor rat, as it was trying to run away. There it was crawling out of its skin, blood spurting everywhere. And then we all remember the time when Rick’s California King Snake, he and Dad found on the road on the way home from a Sports Tournament. I recall that it was a hassle, trying to contain the nasty thing, we boys attempted to keep it in the back Bathroom. The snake eventually escaped via the toilet.
Finally—though not animal related, I still recall Bev and Claudia several years earlier, I’m sure with Cathy’s help, had started a little business over one summer, selling their own brand of homemade chocolates. The small enterprise was called—”Bevlaudi Chocolates”,—the label a derivative of both of their names. The girls even designed their own stylish packaging for the scrumptious delights inside. That form of childhood industry reminds me when still quite young, as my playmates and I, tried to make a few bucks, selling Lemmon Aide, while out on the street corner
7.2. “Life of a Pioneer”
As a large Family, I had been quite aware of our Mormon heritage that links us with the early events concerning the growth and development of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In fact, I have in my possession one of the few original copies of a book derived from a Journal, penned by my Great, Great, Great Grandfather, and James S Brown, first printed around 1902. His Book “Giant of the Lord, Life of a Pioneer”—is a lengthy Journal turned into a book. Its revised Printing came in 1960 -–and covers the period of 1828 to 1902. It contains an account of his illustrious life as a true Pioneer who was also an eight-time Missionary to Tahiti, through the Mormon Church. His lengthy and storied-life would span nearly the entire Nineteenth Century, involving quite matter-of-factually, through his particular perspective of certain Historical events) that we still hold in high regard.
So it was through such oral readings given by my own Father, as we found that our Great Grandfather Brown’s trek through the wild expanse of treacherous territories of the Western United States, had through his writings, indeed unfolded before us. Beginning as a youth—teaming up with the famed “Mormon Battalion”. And then from his Journal, we vicariously travel with him, enduring awful hardships over bleak trails of the empty Plains, through the trackless Rocky Mountains, and into those far western regions.
So through his journalized accounts, we found that He had endured many riggers, including near starvation and disease. This all had tested his faith in God, finally causing him to seek Baptism from the hand of nun-other than that of “The Mormon Prophet Brigham Young. This was around the time when the “Saints” were forcefully banished from “Winter Quarters in Nauvoo Illinois, to march to the Great Salt Lake Utah Territory.
We also found that ostensibly some of their capable number of men were at this point, corralled through the auspices of the Governmental U.S authorities, who were actually acting in a form of persecution, of the Religious Mormon Sect. And also, as these Young Men would be hastily “mustered into the Army. Then they would be ordered to march west to fight against Mexico in the California frontier. . .
It was then in early 1848. While in Northern California. My Grandfather would be helping as an Indian Dialect Translator, directing the so-called “Digger” Indians as they were all busy building John Sutter’s Saw and Gris-mill, just at the exact time of the great Gold Discovery. His account in his Journal, beginning on page 109, reads as follows:
“It is my understanding that when Captain Sutter and Mr. Marshall were contemplating the erection of the Gris and Saw mills, an apparently insurmountable obstacle, had confronted them in the inability to get—and pay for the skilled labor necessary for portions of the work. Thus this obstacle was removed by the proposition that our committee had made to Captain Sutter at the first interview. So in two or three days’ time, of which was asked for, in August 1847 by the captain, a decision was reached to go ahead.
So if it had not been for the opportune appearance of the mustered-out members of the Mormon Battalion, the Sawmill would not have been built that winter, nor would the discovery of gold have been made at that time. But for the action of those Mormons in connection with the enterprise, proposed by Captain Sutter and Mr. Marshall, in offering the desired class of labor, upon the terms they did, the state of California might have waited indefinitely to have been developed—and to be christened the “the Golden State”—and so the entrance to the bay of San Francisco might never have received the title of the Golden Gate.
Now, resuming the narrative of my association with Mr. Marshall, on the afternoon of January 23rd—I will state further that each of us went our way for the night, and did not meet again till next morning.—I thought little of what Marshall had said of finding gold, as he was looked on, as rather a “notional” kind of man; I do not think I even mentioned his conversation to my associates, at this unusually early hour in the morning.
However, those of us who occupied the cabin heard a hammering at the mill. “Who is that pounding so early?” was asked, and one of our party looked out and said it was Marshall shutting the gates of the fore bay down. This recalled to my mind what Mr. Marshall had said to me the evening before, and I remarked, “Oh. He is going to find a gold mine this morning.” A smile of derision stole over the faces of the parties present.
Then we ate our breakfast and went to work. James Berger and myself went to the whipsaw, and the rest of the men—some eight or ten rods away from the mill. I was close to the mill and saw pit, and so was close to the tail race where I could direct the Indians who were there. This was the 24th day of January, 1848. So it was when we had got partly to work, Mr. Marshall came, with his old wool hat in his hand. He stopped within six or eight yards of the sawpit, and exclaimed, “Boys, I have got her now!” Thus being the nearest to him, having more curiosity than the rest of the men, I jumped from the pit and stepped to him.
On looking into his hat, I discovered ten or twelve pieces (or small scales) of what proved to be gold. Then, I picked up the largest piece, worth about fifty cents, and tested it with my teeth; as it did not give, I held it aloft and exclaimed, “Gold, boys, gold!’’ At that, all dropped their tools and gathered around Mr. Marshall. Having made the first proclamation of the Very important fact that the metal was indeed gold,
Then I stepped to the work bench and put it to the second test with the hammer. As I was doing this, it occurred to me that while end route to California with the Mormon Battalion, we came to some timber, called Manzanita. Our guides and interpreters said the wood was what the Mexicans smelted their gold and silver ores with. It is a hard wood—and makes a very hot fire, and also burns a long time. Remembering that we had left a very hot bed of these coals in the fireplace of the cabin, I hurried there—and made the third test by placing the metal upon the point of an old shovel blade, then inserted it in among the coals.
I blew the coals until I was blind for the moment, in trying to burn or melt the particles. Although these were plated almost as thin as a sheet of note paper, the heat did not change their appearance in the least.
Further, I remembered hearing that gold could not be burned up, so I arose from this third test, confident that what had been found was gold. Running out to the party still grouped together, I made the second proclamation, saying, ’‘Gold, gold!” At this juncture all was excitement.
Then we repaired to the lower end of the tail race where we found from three to six inches of water flowing over the bed of rock, in which there were crevices and little pockets, over which the water rippled in the glare of the sunlight—as it shone over the mountain peaks. At that Point James Berger was the first man to espy a scale of the metal. He stooped to pick it up, and found some difficulty in getting hold of it, as his fingers would blur the water, but he finally succeeded.
The next man to find a piece was H W Biggler. He used his jack-knife—thus getting a scale of Gold on the point of the blade—and then, with his forefinger over it, he placed it in his left hand. So the gold was by then securely tied up—and for a while, all were excited. Then Marshall was asked a great many questions like the following; ‘Did you find it on Sutter’s claim along the river?” “How far is it from here?” “Was it all in one place?” “Is there any more?” “How did you get it, you had no pick or shovel?”—can you find the place again?”
Marshall replied that he had found it down below Sutter’s claim—along the river where the bedrock cropped out along the bank, and in little rills that came down the hills to the river; so indeed, everywhere that he found the bedrock cropping out—“Then you found it in more than one place?”“ The answer was “yes, more than a dozen.”
It was now proposed that we keep this discovery a secret, just as the discovery in the race had been kept. So the mill work was pushed with vigor to completion. But in the meantime Marshall had felt it his duty to inform his partner of the discovery. Accordingly, he wrote a letter stating the facts, and sent me out to find a “strange Indian” who would take it to Captain Sutter, fearing that if he sent it by someone who was acquainted with the circumstances, the secret might leak out.
About this time when Mr. Johnston found that he had some urgent business below—and must go there, and did so; he went to the gristmill and along the camps on the mill-race. Then somehow or other—the bag came untied and our old cat and all the kittens ran out—and to the camps they went, until everybody heard of the gold discovery.
But like all great truths, people were slow to believe the story. However, In a short time, Sidney S. S. Willis and Wilford Hudson, whose curiosity had been aroused, began to feel that they would like a little venison; and so with that, for an excuse they took their guns and set out on foot, having been assured that by following up the river, they would come to the sawmill, which they succeeded in doing.
But now for all of those, doing the even purer, if not more honored in this world, than to have lived and endured what they really did. As far as I am concerned, I say peace to their remains, for on this earth they have been greatly wronged, if I have read their history correctly. Like a lynching scrape where there is an outburst of the people, it is very difficult to find those who are responsible for the crime. Regarding the wrongs did these men, it seemed as if the whole population of that locality -–so much so, were thusly picked on.
I will add here that my account of the gold discovery in California, was submitted in 1893 to the following members of the party, who were at the place in January, 1848, and who (the only survivors within my reach at the time) were Orrin Hatch and William S. Muir, of Woods-cross in Davis County); George W. Boyd, and H. D. Merrill (of Salt Lake City); and Israel Evans, of Lehi Utah County, Utah). They united in giving me a certificate that they knew this account to be a true and correct statement, of the discovery of gold in California, at Sutter’s mill-race.
The fact of the matter remains , Mr. Marshall had never seen the most notable—of which was Mormon Island to where the first rush was made—from where the news was spread to the world. As to Sutter’s enterprise and capital—where he furnished the graham flour and mutton; wheat and peas, black coffee and brown sugar, teams and tools;
And so while, us as the members of the Mormon Battalion, did the hard labor that discovered the metal. It is also true that we were in Sutter’s employ at that date, and also that we did not get paid for our labor. I worked one hundred days for the firm, and never received a farthing for it.
Also, I heard a number of other men say they never got their pay. It was our labor that developed the find, and not Marshall’s and Sutter’s. They were never paid for it. And when we went for a settlement, we were told by Captain Sutter that he could not settle with us, for his bookkeeper had gone to the mines, and his books were not posted. He cursed Marshall and the mines, and declared that he was a ruined man. So the discovery was indeed his ruin, for it had drawn off his laborers—and left everything to go to wreck, so he was robbed. —
I do not wish it to be understood that I charge Sutter and Marshall with being dishonorable, for I do not;—I think they were honorable men in a business way. The fact is, they were completely overrun with all classes of people, and were confused, so that the people took advantage of them; thus their business was undermined, and so there was a general collapse of their affairs and of every industry and business. The cry was, ’‘Gold! Gold! More Gold! Away to the gold fields!” Every other enterprise was sacrificed in the rush for gold.
Finally, with due respect to Captain John A. Sutter and James W. Marshall, to whom the world has given the credit for the great gold find, I believe that if they had been taken out and shot to death the day of the discovery, they would have suffered less, and would have met their Maker -–just the same”.
Grandpa Brown’s book was an ideal source from which my Father could teach healthy morals, from real-life values, as we all gathered around, when we were still young enough; thus, receiving these lessons from my Dad’s famous Ancestry,—and in a hopeful way, greatly taking all of it to heart.
7.3. Moving Out, Moving In
—Near the Old Mill Cafe
In the autumn of 1978, I caught wind of the fact that Bob Sweetman was moving out of the Seeder wood Apartment Complex, to continue his education in southern California. Bob through the summer had been bowling with the Blind League for recreational purposes, achieving fabulous scores. He had returned from Guide Dogs for the Blind, in San Rafael, sometime earlier with his new Dog Veeta. This gave me a golden opportunity to move into the place that he was vacating. It was an up stares unit, overlooking the Pool.
Bob was In the process of moving with his folks assisting him. From time to time He needed to walk Veeta. Then he showed me a little clearing near the Complex where the Dog could relieve herself.—I noticed the various commands bob was using to tell the Dog what was wanted, using a particular term for getting Veeta to move faster. The term “hop up”, was a strange word, but it proved effective. So in about five years’ time, I would find myself using this same term with my own Guide, named Patrick.
Nearby, there was a particular restaurant which happen to be a Modesto landmark, located across the street from the Apartment Complex. It was actually precariously placed; thus wedged-in on a three cornered—island intersection, where the Train tracks passed through. This quaint little eatery—that resembled an old mill with large windmill wings, giving its unique look. And so its particular mystique had lived-on in the minds of many loyal patrons, who graced the doorway of its old familiar structure, over many years.
Yet I could attest to the fact that the Old Mill Café was indeed tiny; plus having outstanding food. It was tailored for the Truckers type clientele, with friendly efficient Waitresses. That’s not a thing you see very much anymore. The Trains would rumble through shaking everything. Our group of blind folks didn’t mind because this location was within easy reach for those of us who frequented the Association Office. And especially for us when it came to learn a particular “mobility trick”, when crossing those crazily angled streets, of which Modesto is famous for.
Nevertheless this made it quite a popular spot for getting a quick meal, usually Breakfast and lots of hot coffee—so we would be tanked up for the day, particularly on Saturdays before Bowling. And as it were—one day at the Café, a friendly elderly gentleman stopped me as I was getting ready to pay my tab, and he indicated that because I was visually impaired—that by running into me, had reminded him of his “blind child.” He said her name was Candace Looper. The gentleman proceeded to tell of the story of her tragic accident, sadly she had drowned in the Pool, at the School for the Blind in Fremont California, many years ago. Also I remember meeting this particular girl when I first entered into the Resource Program at Orville Wright.
Still the elderly gentleman—to say the least had been quite surprised, when I told him that I went to Gramar School with his Daughter. And true enough—Candy had a pretty voice—like an Angel, as she would want to sing to herself or in front of us in school. We all miss her, but that incident had again reminded all of us of just how fragile life could be, not to take it all for granted.
7.4.”Orange Cool-Aid Spaghetti”
Living on SSI usually was limiting. —I had to watch my budget, choosing what I could afford or what I could not. One time, the cupboards were absolutely bear. I had only a bottle of ketchup and an old can of black pepper—and a package of Spaghetti noodles—and a bit of hamburger left in the kitchen. So I had a brilliant thought of throwing together an impromptu spaghetti meal; but in doing so—the black pepper fell off the shelf and into the rolling-boil of noodles, spoiling my plans.
I was mad and hungry and broke—so I cooked the hamburger, mixed in the noodles and ketchup together, and found it horrible. Then, I reached for the last thing on the shelf, which was a little plastic jack lantern, filled with orange cool aide powder. The Spaghetti looked sickly gray so then I through in the powdered Kool-Aid and Walla!—it turned the mess orange.
To my delight, it neutralized the black Pepper taste. Just like most guys would probably do, I mixed the entire conglomeration together, which looked like a bad representation of the spaghetti that you might find in a neglected can. It was a hot bowl of goop, I gratefully gobbled down Anyway. So my Orange Kool-Aid Spaghetti story remains an endearing memory that I share with others as often as they would ever want me, to tell the Yarn.
7.5.”MBBA”
It was during the early 80’s when our Bowling League the Modesto Blind Spots became the Modesto Blind Bowlers Association, or (MBBA). This was over a period of time concerning my absents, from the group while I attempted to move hopefully onward and upward, through the efforts in Sacramento; thereby serving as part of the so called Business Enterprise Program.
Meanwhile, the MBBA Membership increased as the organization acquired individuals with leadership skills, during the nearly Five and a half years I was away. And over this time various traditions became prevalent—Such as adopting a Snoopy caricature, depicting a sneaky and slyly smiling, blindfolded snoopy-dog—A happy puppy in harness, tossing a bowling ball with one eye peaking beneath the blindfold—the Mascot, doubtlessly seeking a better score than his fellow “blinks”. That cartoonish funny Mascot would be stylishly emblazoned on the back of our Bowling jersey uniforms. Thus as a usual course, the League members took part in the annual Fourth of July celebration at Moose Park, in the La Loma district. As it was, with some help from our friends, the Blind group operated a vendor’s Booth, hawking Hot dogs and Lenguisa.
We then added to the fun, a dedicated volunteer—a spirited old gal dressed as a clown, named Betty—who simply and patiently explained what Blindness and Visual Impairment was really like. She gave Helium filled balloons to the kids. This was one of the many Fund-raising efforts that provided the means to participate in Tournament Play, with other Blind Leagues.
Our League traveled to places such as San Francisco, Salinas and Los Angeles, for Regional Bowling Tournaments. Eventually, some of us would participate in the Nationals’. These are large events like the one in Spokane Washington, and also one held in Denver Colorado some years later. Thus Wayne Keenie from the Los Angeles area was a prominent figure in the affairs of Blind League play. He along with previously mentioned Bob Franklyn from San Francisco, were informative and helpful when it came to arranging the details concerning such plans for our own Tournament; that was held In Modesto after the 1983 Season.
My Nephew Rossen,”Tim” Townsend, helped out by making a Video of the proceedings. The video showed the home crowd cheering us on. But our biggest Coup came at the Los Angeles Tournament, when we blew away the competition. This to the shock and dismay of the favored L a crowd. Then as it happened, there was a big flap about the loss of the shipment of our Trophies that never were found. The thinking was that the trophies had been somehow lost in transit. We will never know the true outcome of that little affair. However, our great performance must had been jump started by the fact that before League play, At the LA Tournament, feeling exhausted from the long bus trip and the lack of sleep—and by then, having chugged down two beers. I proceeded to throw five strikes in a row—and I don’t even relish the taste of beer. Though at any rate to our ultimate surprise, we were off to a good start.
7.6. Slow Ball, Fast Ball
Sherri’s method of throwing a Bowling ball turned out to be the slowest ball anyone had ever witnessed. She had a way of causing her wrist hand action on the ball to produce a retro-grade spin—making it slide—in an S-turn pattern; then knocking the pins down in slow motion. A slow ball that was an utterly surreal phenomenon to behold. Over the years her scores were good enough to win trophies for her team. Also, Sherri’s partner during this time was her new Husband Leo. They in jolly fashion both hugged and danced on the lanes, each time they got a strike. Their name “partner”, was a loving endearment, a form of expressing their deep appreciation for one another.
However, it was one particular Saturday, when a ruddy and lively character, Steve Oriel, who would become one of the best in our League. He had routinely powered the bowling ball with deadly force. And so as Steve Oriel waltzed into our midst with a little girl tagging along, who happened to be his daughter. We found that Steve was a “Partial”—and upon inquiring about his blindness, he had proceeded to tell us a horrific tail about being shot, point blank through the Head, by his estranged wife wanting drugs. Steve was evidently left to die while locked in the trunk of their car. His miraculous survival was that of a fictional movie script. Thus fighting for his very life, Steve had worked the wires inside the trunk while in the car, just enough to signal a cop who was stopping them for a routine traffic violation.
The cop hearing some commotion in the trunk made a shocking discovery. By that time, Steve had been locked inside for about eleven hours. He said that his head had swollen to that of a watermelon, and the trajectory of the bullet severed the Optic nerve of one eye—and severely damaged the other. Further, along with Steve Oriel’s eye problems, he nevertheless acquired a-daytime-only Driver’s License. He accomplished this with the aid of a monocular that had been affixed to a pair of glasses. Invariably, our friend Steve Orial, after a few beers, graciously always would ask me if I needed a ride, but I would politely turn the offer down, because I didn’t think this situation was safe.
On a less weighty note; Our other Steve, Steve Gokey, my Perennial Partner who will I’m afraid, never will live down the “Gokey’s Chow” bit, at the time was my mate on the often competitive Team, dubbed, ”La-Machine” and then later, was known as the “Strikers”. At any rate, each and every week Steve Gokey was quite methodical and intense as he bracketed his quarry, which was those allusive pins some distance away. In fact, he was all the more tenacious as he systematically figured out the exact angle and speed he should impart on the ball. He sometimes would slide to his knees to break his momentum.
I remember back in Elementary school, as Steve, “the Goke”—we sometimes called him, would be on the playground. There he was, “Little Stevie”, bounding carelessly in a dead run. He collided with a Tetherball poll. All I can remember that there was blood and broken teeth—and a lot of crying, So I to this day, still feel that little boy’s pain. This was probably because I experienced nearly the same thing as a young adult. And for me as this particularly bad experience had played-out. I remember that it Took place across the street from the house on East Rumble Road.
There was a Junior High School built where pasture land was previously, when we first moved to the area. As I recall, the schoolyard eventually included Baseball diamonds—and later, a Runner’s track had also been built. So over these years, I had plenty of area to run while chasing a Frisbee, as a young teen. I enjoyed playing with a Frisbee, because it would sail through the air slower than a ball would, allowing me to track it more easily. On those occasions I had to cross over a portion of the blacktop area, to catch the black and gold disc that was contrasted against the bright blue sky, after I threw the thing as hard and as high as I could.
One time while running in hot pursuit for my Frisbee—I hadn’t even thought of gauging the distance of those nearby Badminton poles; Not even aware of their nasty eyelet hooks poking outward at the height of my hips. Then I suddenly collided with one of the poles on my “blindside.” So With the force of such a deadly impact, I bent the sucker to about a sixty degree angle. The eyelet hooks gouged my leg, ripping my jeans and knocking the air out of my lungs. I actually cross the poll at luckily just the right angle, relaxed in my leaping stride—not knowing what was coming; though slamming the pole with a crushing force against my Ear; but I found that I really didn’t hurt myself too badly. —
I of course was shaken—and ended up with a skinned ear—bruised ribs and leg. Also acquiring a jangling sensation in my head from “bonging” the poll; but I was still OK—None-the-worse for wear. However—no more Frisbee for that day, you could bet. Much like my buddy Steve, I learned another harsh lesson of thinking before doing; as the old adage hereby applies, from this time forward—“better to be safe, rather than bold.
Chapter Eight
Moving On
“BEP” (1978 to 1982)
Gary Mashado always seemed to be one-step ahead of me, so I looked to him as a guide of sorts. He seemed to give me a kind of inspiration and confidence in whatever new paths to be taken. And based upon feedback from my Rehab Counselor, the State Department of Rehabilitation, at the request of Gary, asked to become my Pre-Evaluation Trainer. We planned to use Gary’s present Location, in Modesto’s Department of Education Snack Bar, as a means to determine my viability in the Program.
Soon we setup a Date to start the evaluation; but on getting together, Gary indicated that he was feeling poorly, like he had the Flue, or something. In typical manor my good friend persevered, insuring that I would be ready for the Date for the in pending Training Class. Gary was evidently suffering Flu symptoms—and then it was my turn at the heaving pan. Actually, we were in the back room using the sink. It was awful trying to serve customers, retching, and feeling like death. Marvin Prevost was Gary Mashado’s Business Enterprise Consultant, or his immediate Program Supervisor.
Mr. Prevost—as his nickname ended-up being—“starvin-Marvin” and what it actually had implied—a guy with a thin frame. He was hip-and-cool, with blond kinky hair, dressed in Levy’s, including a Levy-jacket. Overall, Marven was laid back, kind and supportive. He was a good friend of Jerry Koonz, who was also a cool dude—a great Rehab Counselor; Jerry was particularly instrumental throughout our early days in school. Totally blind themselves, nonetheless they were both great “RCB’s,” otherwise, “Blind-Services” Specialists; and well known as fantastic individuals in their profession.
Both of these guys would later collaborate on a 1985 Computer seminar, at Enchanted Hills, a Camp for the Blind; and I would even get a chance to attend; but now what was Marv going to do with one sick Vendor—and a sick Trainee. Marv told Gary that he had the option to close the business for the day, or to tough it out. We ended up staying and finishing the Evaluation, which actually lasted over a period of several days. I was then recommended for the Training Class in Sacramento. This made me feel glad to blow this, “Mo-town” scene for a new adventure. And so that was when Gary and I were able to traveled together to Sacramento for my initial visit, as he showed me the “ropes” when it was time for finding accommodations. Gary then set about the process of getting me acquainted with the general area, to be ready to start the six-month Training Program, in Downtown Sacramento.
I was at first interviewed with the head Trainer, Reece Erven, who asked me right off the top if I was a “self-starter” (meaning a person with initiative). I paused a moment,—a self-starter, what exactly was that? Then, feeling some pressure, ended-up saying “of course”—still not entirely sure what “a self-Starter” really meant. Evidently though, it was apparent that the interview went well enough in order to begin –as it were, my new Career; however at first only had started as a Trainee in a Classroom. But when it actually came time to locate a place to live, there were several Apartments to choose from, at reasonable rates. Of cores, I chose one nearest to the Training Center as possible.
The drab—red-bricked, O Street Apartment had been situated on the ground floor; yet seemed quite adequate for the time being. It was nice to be able to walk to work; and near enough to the “N-Street” Cafeteria Training Facility. It was also near the Capital Building itself, which of course was located on Capital Avenue, which was at that time, undergoing major remodeling. In addition the nearby K Street Mall was convenient for shopping, and it was a good place to catch a Movie at the Theater.
Bob Hill, who was a friendly and gregarious, inquisitive type (a “partial”) had ended-up sharing my apartment for a while. He often joked, saying; “We would have to once in a while go up from O Street to Pee”—Ah-haw—I got it”! This was only one of Bob’s characteristic—“salty” little jokes, which helped to relieve the tension and pressures awaiting us. .
8.1. The Girl Upstairs:
We guys soon discovered a girl living up stares from our apartment. Bob, in an affable way would goad me along, wanting me to get to know her. Bob thought that I was too shy, but I wasn’t. It was a matter of how to gain this girl’s attention. Bob finally introduced himself along with me; but it was she—that was the shy one. She said her name was Sharon. She and I started talking together in the laundry room—and she seemed to be polite enough; although a bit nervous. Still Sharon was happy to have neighbors from the B E P Program conveniently nearby. Although thinking about it a bit later—this seemed awfully strange, realizing that this Girl Sharon happened to be partially sighted herself.
Bob Hill had been preoccupied during his off hours with a sighted girlfriend that he had been dating for some time. Bob said her name was Jerri Ragsdale. Though he insisted, in a playful way, that Miss Ragsdale be called, good-ole’ ”Rags.” But all of us together were too much for Sharon to feel comfortable in a group situation—so she would scurry up the stairs like a little mouse! Still I accepted Sharon’s shyness and didn’t think of it very much at the time.
Moreover she never invited me up to her apartment for a social visit—and I began to wonder about that. Also Sharon didn’t like my name and insisted in calling me” Jerry”. This I felt was a put down—and a slight upon my character. So I would argue the point with her, threatening her with never talking to her again; but somehow I felt sorry for that shy, strange girl living up the stairs.
As it was, Sharon had a weird habit of following me around—and then she would be found mooching on snacks from my work place. This I had to write off as an extra expense. Her behavior didn’t make much sense at all. Sharon said that she had a boyfriend, one of the Vendors, but I never saw anyone with her. As time went on, at one point, Sharon was visiting me in my new Apartment. —I had just moved over to a nearby newly built garden style Apartment Complex, while Bob gladly moved with Rags…
Then one day Sharon wanted me to go over to Macy’s, near the Mall with her, to shop, but I was tired and was at my limit; thus trying to cope with her apparent Psychological idiosyncrasies. Later on, it was at a particular moment when I was laying on the couch—feeling somewhat annoyed. The next thing I knew Sharon had gone into an uncontrollable rage—and began to tear up my expensive large potted plant that my family had gotten me when I moved to the new place. There was potting soil an inch thick, strewn all over the bright red carpet. Sharon suddenly ran over to the old building, to her own Apartment. I was extremely concerned that she might do something rash, basing this upon her overall strange behavior. Like becoming suicidal, or something rather outlandish as that. I followed and called after her—pounding on the door. When opening it I saw that she was extremely calm and composed, as if nothing had ever happened.
Up to that time I hadn’t any experience in dealing with people, having deep psychological issues. Also I wasn’t aware of problems such as, Manic Depression, Schizophrenia or Obsessive Compulsive behaviors. So when I finally saw inside Sharon’s Apartment, I began to put it all together. Sharon had an extreme habit of tossing loads of powdered laundry detergent all over the rooms, a compulsive behavior to be sure. She was evidently suffering from Mental Illness, stemming from her Parent’s Suicides, which were according to Sharon, were done separately.
And so along with this tragedy, she struggled with the adjustment and bereavement issues due to her Meningioma Tumor; that was the thing which caused her Visual Impairment. None the less, this ensuing drama was but a backdrop to the real work that was now at hand.
8.2. Vendor Neophytes:
Each of the Trainees so long as we were in the Program, would be able to keep our SSI allotment; thereby building on our individual Savings, until we earned enough from our future Business. Also, the State Department of Rehabilitation intern, would pay all the expenses for the Training. We found that the Vendor Training Class was divided into two parts for each day, five days a week.
During the weekdays the Vendor Trainees were served up a fine Breakfast of scrambled eggs with freshly made biscuits and hash-brown Potatoes, along with bacon, eggs and a beverage. . Then the major part of the Morning consisted of classroom lecture, learning theory, such as principals of food handling and inventory control, along with merchandising techniques. We also learned health and safety skills, figuring-out food cost problems to calculate the profitability margins of individual product ingredients.
We Students used these solutions, as part of a formula, to derive meaningful figures to include in our Monthly Profit & Loss Statements; thereby enabling us to prepare Reports to be submitted to the Department of Rehabilitation. In addition, we learned about the critical temperature criteria, concerning “food handling”, for both hot and cold variances. This was according to California Health and Safety Standards.
Further, we discovered that the Department had appointed a rather vertiginous man named Dick Walker, of CAL-OSHA, very professional, thorough and exacting. He was assigned to travel throughout the State to monitor and assist all of the Blind Vendors, while dealing with their specific Health and Safety issues. We perspective Vendors had to know about serious things, such as a variety of food Poisons, including, Botulism, Trichinosis and Brucellosis. However Dick would on a more personal level, would tell us about his model train hobby.
The other half of the day was focused on skills building in Reece’s Cafeteria. This experience actually involved being in a real work environment. Each of the Vendor Trainees developed hands on skills by servicing customers, learning Cashiering techniques; and the art of making large amounts of Coffee while ”on the line”. And had included things like learning how to clean up impromptu food-spillage; when at the same time, making decisions while dealing with Customers, including purveyors and other Sales Personnel.
Those additional Training activities often involved making lists of purchases, calling in orders, setting up Menu variances, along with establishing their prices—and so on. We happen to at that time use the old-fashioned method for cashiering, which was called the building method technique. For this, each Trainee quickly found that it was necessary to keep the cash drawer always organized. So while giving back change to a Customer and counting back to them; thus starting from the smallest denomination needed, then building toward the largest necessary, to make the difference from what the Customer actually gave. This would of course take in account the tended amount of the item purchased.
Generally, so called blind Vendors had to be able to do all this because we couldn’t actually see the display on the register, or for that matter, we couldn’t see the menu board for the prices. So We Student trainees had no choice but to commit all this to memory. Furthermore, we were obliged to add up the prices in our head, as we keyed in the numbers. Including calculating at that time, the six percent sales tax. Also each of the Vendors were obligated to handle two lines, including the entree and the snack lines—all at the same time.
The Customers as they filed through the Cashier line would have to describe what items they were purchasing. So when at the register the Blind Operator had to develop discrete methods to check if the Customer was being truthful; and so for me—doing all of this without “real sight” indeed, was a daunting task -–and I still wonder to this day how I actually was able to accomplish all of these things.
Despite our relatively small Class, our wise Instructor named Charlie Walker—who had silvered hair and silver-rimmed glasses; would be deeply involved teaching each of his particular Student Charges. So I couldn’t help but notice that at certain times he had invariably been met with some difficulty. Charlie often tried to muster enough patients; as his nose would redden, his body sometimes shook when trying to gather control in order to stifle his frustration. And yet I would remember to this day, that Charlie nonetheless was always ready to give extra help, when it proved necessary, while dealing with his “brood” of neophyte Class Trainees.
Over that hectic period of concentrated learning, I can also recall that there was only one totally blind Trainee, who was named Paul Borrailly. Then there was one lady Classmate, I think her name was Jeannie, who would eventually get a Location in Garden Grove California. Further, there was another young guy named John, who was an outgoing character in the group. Perhaps he was the quintessential example of a “self-starter”.
But as things were in the Classroom, Bob Hill and Charlie would “go-round-deround” with one another. It was always that Bob (with his Brooklyn accent) wanted to “needle” certain points of exactness, while Charlie would want to keep the Class on track. Yet after Class in the heat of the summer evenings, Jeannie, who was a bit older than the other Class members was quite energetic enough to explore the nearby Mall. She was the Motherly type, a Den Mother of sorts keeping us all together as we occasionally visited the Movie Theater. And so just for fun Jeannie and I ventured out—seeing the Movies—for 75 cents each, ”Grey Lady Down”—a submarine thriller, starring Charlton Hesston —and the Movie,” New York, New York”.
Jeanie was evidently inspired by the Martin Scorsese film (about surviving in the large City of New York) Like in the Movie. In fact, she was a real trooper; so she introduced me to a particular drink—once again inspired by the Scorsese Movie. A “drink called a “Pink Squirrel”; though another drink was one when we weren’t sipping booze. It was a refreshing treat of chocolate milk in vanilla ice cream. This was a nice thing on hot summer days. However, we were not done with ice cream by a long shot.
8.3. “Buds Old-fashioned Ice Cream”:
Our fearless Instructor Charlie wanted to show us the operations at a place in San Francisco called, Bud’s Old-fashioned Ice Cream Factory. While in the City we Students ended-up getting lost and had to take a crowded Bus; but we were involved in an enter section fender-bender, with a pick-up truck. Suddenly, we were all violently thrown forward. —I ended up being pushed into the till box. And it was also at this crucial instant when my cane shot through the isle—almost hitting a passenger. All the others on the bus could see—and exactly knew what to do. They simply jumped off the vehicle and ran away from the situation. We “Blinks” couldn’t easily do that. So the driver needing witnesses, while he looked with a scowl; and then shouted over his phone; “but, their all Blind’!
At this point, the Bus couldn’t move at all, so during the pause in traffic we Class members eventually followed suit, just as the “sighted” bus passengers had done a bit earlier. Then we were more than happy to jump off the bashed vehicle—as we were all pressed for time. At any rate, we found that we weren’t far from our destination. Then a bit later, at last we had discovered that Bud’s Ice Cream actually, was a hole-in-the-wall operation; with a drunk serving-up the frozen concoction as fast as he could. Then after waiting a short time, Charlie saw that the Ice Cream guy had scampered across the street to grab a bottle—to keep him primed for the hard work ahead.
Meanwhile, our Class Instructor patiently explained each of the pictures in the windows of the shop, as the group of us waited for the colorful drunk to return to his task. We were all impressed with these pictorial curios. They showed people standing in line for ice cream—even in the middle of a thunderstorm; but we never saw anything that portrayed the making of ice cream. However, our sample did indeed taste very good, though we were all disappointed about the inner workings of the so-called ice cream factory. Such is life, in the big City.
8.4. Dry/Wet Vending:
Eventually we Students finished the Core Training portion of Classroom work—and now required even more hands-on instruction, in other Facilities. This was to get a broader perspective based upon the total Business work cycle. It required us to do a one-month stint at two other locations. The first would be at a Snack Bar setting; either a “dry or Dry/Wet vending service”; or the other would be at a full service Cafeteria. The main difference between a “dry-service and a so called “wet-service, was that a wet vending establishment produced hot and cold beverages at that particular location. However for me, the first Location in this next phase was a Dry Vending site, located at the Department of Public Affairs. It was operated by Earl Munjoure. “
Earl the purl” Munjoure, as my classmate John called him, was a highly respected enterprising tough taskmaster. He would routinely take on neophyte Trainees, to toughen their skin so they wouldn’t become bruised later—over the course of their professional life. It had been clear at least to Earl, that I too needed some toughening. The first thing was not to let me sit on my little ass; more correctly, rest on my laurels, thinking that everything was going fine at any given point. In actuality there were plenty of factors that could suddenly rear their ugly head, and bite you-right in that proverbial ass! Earl quickly pulled the stool right out from under me, if he thought I should be doing something productive.
We ate lunch standing because there wasn’t any place to sit anyway. Both of us were constantly in motion throughout the long day, restocking shelves and storing new products in extremely tight storage areas. Typically, a ten-hour day was the norm. However, Earl’s tough exterior belied his true character. He even took me out to dinner with his wife for Chinese several times. As we ate together, Earl explained that he as well as all of us, needed to be strong enough to deal with the dog-eat-dog realities of the working world, whether we wanted it or not. Earl undoubtedly experienced hard knocks in his own life, regarding his blindness, but he never revealed very much in the way of the ugly details involving all of that.
It was apparent that Earl liked me as a Student, because I didn’t challenge the rules, I only tried to understand them. Overall, under Earl’s instruction I honed important business skills that would become invaluable toward the future. Yet in the following month, the pace changed showing me another facet of the business world. Although I found that a different kind of approach had shown through the likable personality of Mr. Dick Bromley, who was a man made from entirely different cloth than that of Earl.
Dick’s Cafeteria at O B-1, near the Capital Building was in fact larger. The work was evenly paste, and quiet—just like Mr. Bromley’s personality. It was nice to see Dick and his wife working side-by-side—you could tell that they cared deeply about each other. I’m sad to say that I don’t recall Mrs. Bromley’s first name, but she had a delightful southern accent. It seems that Dick depended upon the loyalty of each of his customers and did many things to attract their interest, reminding me of Gary Mashado’s approach with his customer base. However, I recently heard the shockingly sad news of Dick Bromley’s passing. Wouldn’t you know it; it was due to Diabetes.
Now, after all the Training, a total of Six months, it was time to sweat through the State’s Board Exam for Certification and Licensing. As usually was the case, I eked by, passing the exam by a nose and an eyelash. Had I missed one or two more questions, I would have to retake the test all over again; but I made it just the same—and became a Bona fide Vendor, looking for a Location, hopefully in the local area.
8.5. “Young Man, I Can Piss Coffee
Stronger than You Can Make It!”
As luck would have it, I landed a Wet Vending Location next to the Capital Building itself. It in fact was the temporary one housing the personnel for the State Capital facility—located at ninth & L St—across the street from the Tower Garden Apartment Complex, where I lived. I was taking the Location that Allen Hoover was vacating. He was a fellow Vendor who was moving up the proverbial ladder—thus getting a Cafeteria; whereas we first timers were only allowed to Bid on a Dry or Dry/Wet Vending Stand. this was until we became even more proficient at our trade.
I found that Al and his wife were nice folks, helpful and conscientious during the transitional period; as we took the initial Inventory—and as I also gradually got to know the customer base and knew what to expect. But what I didn’t exactly expect was the colorful Building Manager, whose name escapes me. Still that old lady was good humored and she had a salty personality to-boot. She was blunt—and very much to the point, yet friendly.
Each morning the “old lady” Manager sauntered in—and would brashly say—“Young man, I can piss coffee stronger than you can make it”. During the winter months she would add—”Birr—it’s colder than a Witches Tit out there”. I think she wanted to get a rise out of me, perhaps sensing my boyish, youthful and innocent countenance; however this would soon change in another year or two. That is—the Realities of life outside the hearth and home and small town graciousness, which typifies certain Mormon values. Which is to say that these factors along with support from long-term friendships of Blind and Visually Impaired comrades, were now far away, with harsh lessons, lurking on the horizon.
Moreover, All These experiences would ultimately teach the true lessons of life’s struggles. Fortunately, Guy Bolmer—My Business Enterprise Consultant could guide me through the critical first weeks. As I got used to the pace of the operation –and where I could relax a bit. Thus getting to know the customers by name, as well as being able to cater to their individual needs. Also As an example I learned by wrote, the large variety of brands of Cigarettes that was located behind me, at the register. —I even mimicked Earl Munjoure’s ability to reach behind, without turning his head, reaching for the correct brand that the customer wanted. Earl and I had learned by touch where each slot on the wall actually was. This also made it easier to restock the individual boxes of cigarettes as needed. Further, I followed Al Hoover’s advice and didn’t change the menu products or their prices too quickly.
Eventually, I had added new items, including the popcorn, from a popular Hot-air Machine. With this, I could fill differing sized sacks, as the Popcorn was made, spewing from the little machine. In this way Customers could choose just how much Popcorn they wanted to purchase, instead of the prepackaged kind. It was a good draw for Customers, who would be watching the little machine, “do-its-thing”.
Another new product, was the “It’s-it” ice cream, originally from San Francisco. It was larger back then, as many packaged products were now becoming smaller, due to cost increases and marketing ploys. Also I got to know the regular suppliers as they delivered what I ordered. The Dairy man named Gibb was particularly helpful with good advice; and I always smiled whenever the little old man in farmer coveralls—wearing an old straw hat, who smelled as if he came from the farm. He would routinely deliver the case of apples I ordered each month. Then there was The MJB Coffee supplier who kept me well stocked with the freshest Coffee. Not like that of today’s methods, where additives and mixing poorer quality beans destroys the robust flavor, that should be savored when sipping a fresh brew. After all, I would occasionally need to brew Coffee for the Governor, who was at that time, Jerry Brown. That is, usually this involved supplying coffee for his Entourage.
8.6. “Ayatollah Cola”
Perhaps the highlight of my time at the ninth And L Snack bar was when President Jimmy Carter came to visit the Sacramento Capital Building—and Capital Park Mall area. Each Morning while working, I would regularly listen to the radio; listening to a show called, “Talk of the Town”, with Leo Laporte, on Radio Station KNGR; and at that time being excited when hearing about President Carter’s pending visit. Just like anyone else I wanted to get a chance to see the President of the United States. So I was allowed to close the shop for an hour, in order to go see this historic event.
Thus it was while listening to Carter’s speech at the K Street Mall, I had been standing amid a group of loud Protesters with signs and fists thrown in the air. They were shouting; “Down with the Shaw”! Things started to get rough and physical. In fact I was abruptly thrown into the K street fountain, for defending some women spectators; as these Iranian Students were protesting the President’s Policies, they had begun to shove the Ladies about. —I had to return to work wet; but did a brisk business, serving Coffee, Doughnuts and other things the rest of the day.
Some years ago my Mother had told me of some of the details concerning the Shaw of Iran, as he visited California. He happen to be inquiring about some property that he was speculating over; this happened to be through a local landowner, who showed my mom the properties that he was interested in. This was about the time when the Shaw’s influence was beginning to wane; and the Ayatollah had of course taken over control of Iran—and the gasoline prices then soared in the U S. This prompted Reece Ervin the Vendors Trainer, who had of course a much larger facility, was helping other Vendors with smaller Locations to purchase orders of Soda, at more reasonable prices. And this was because the delivery costs increased, driving up resale prices at prohibited levels. The term, “Ayatollah cola” was bantered about among the Vendor’s in the Program. The real joke of course had to do with the imagined amount of extra “gas” (secretly –belonging to the hated Ayatollah)” hidden in each can of soda, now delivered to eager customers.
But, all kidding aside, because as I write this, one can’t help but think of the sobering realities now facing each of us. What I really mean is that the apparent cycle of economic trends, now-a-day, strangely parallels the situation that once had existed in the US, when I originally had the Vending Service—and has since, suddenly irrupted—and grown even worse;
Even Governor Jerry Brown had recently been reelected –-and to date, I think is doing a creditable job here, in California. Still as it were—the Employment today every ware has severely decreased. In fact, the World Markets have really plummeted to a degree of uncertainty. And like the past, this chilling conundrum reminds me of certain startling unpleasant events, which had occurred for me personally—that you the Reader shall shortly discover; and that this wrenching experience over this harrowing time, had caused me to seek after answers, to those problems.
8.7. “Terry’s Cafeteria”
It was over that first year—as it flew by quickly -–and so working like a Beaver as I put in long satisfying hours. Then finally I was deemed eligible to bid on an actual Cafeteria. It happened that the Social Welfare Services Building, a Location at 28th & Q, was available—so I eagerly submitted my application. —I was interviewed among six other Vendors-and to my surprise, won out in the bids. Mr. Warren Coffeen, a friendly gentleman had picked me, because I answered the questions in the interview honestly. He was actually interested in me in the same way as was Gary Wiens, when he hired me for the Central Station Operator Job at his Alarm Company –Years earlier. Surprisingly, I developed an excellent rapport with Mr. Coffeen over the next two and a half years.
I ended up taking over the Location from a Hispanic woman Vendor, who left the place in a dismal situation, a “greasy spoon”, as we say in the food business. But it was now the case that I had problems on several fronts; namely winning back the trust of the clientele—and the theft problem among the present employees, hired to help run the Cafeteria. These things I discovered along the way. But as I started to unravel the whole mess, I’ll never forget that first day, because of the first thing I set out to do. It turned out to be a disaster.
Through the usual course of the day I needed to make a supply of Coffee; not knowing the idiosyncrasies of this particular large style, multi-pot, drip coffee maker; I ended up spilling scalding water that had pooled on the coffee grounds in the basket, as I pulled it out of the machine which just happened to be at eye level. Then the scalding water spilled all down my front, ruining a brand new corduroy vest—that was worn for my first day on the Job.
Now suddenly in trouble -–and having second degree burns on my neck and chest. I quickly needed help. At any moment, a long line of sleepy gloomy Customers would need to be greeted with a friendly smile—and a hot cup of “java”—well—I had none. I had a holy mess on my hands and was in a lot of pain.
So I immediately called the previous Vendor, who happened to live within walking distance—and she came running in order to help out this greenhorn. We covered the situation discretely, so as not to make me look bad; and as far as the burns were, they turned out to be not half bad either; though apparently all was not well with those in the building. At least in terms of the operation of the Cafeteria itself.
Mr. Coffeen the Building Manager, evidently had a strong trust in my abilities to redress the situation. Despite all of this, there were rumors that I would replace the present Cafeteria staff, which required at least one full time person—and two part-time Sandwich Prep persons. Along with this, a part-time Cleaning person was deemed necessary, as I looked at the daily tasks schedule assignments. This Cleaning person as it turned out, didn’t speak English, the lady was Corian—and confidently said; “I wash-ye-kitchen and take-out-garbagiee”.”
Yet along with all of this, I quickly found out that the present girls on staff were related, which proved problematical, when it came to replacing them. —I wasn’t truly ready to have all of these Ladies leave at the same time; but they would leave if anyone of them were let go. —The real matter was that I had to decide on what grounds for which to terminate their employment. The very fact that these three girls were black, posed a larger problem; because letting them go, could be construed as a racial statement of sorts. They certainly were trying to make it look as though it was racially prejudice on my part.
And about this same time I put out some feelers regarding the need of a head cook, and so a pronouncedly Gay, older Gentleman wanted the Position. In fact, there began to be quite a following regarding this person, whose name was Irah. With this, there was talk among the Workers in the building of boycotting my Business—if I didn’t hire him. Warren Coffeen, advised me on the, QT, to consider Irah heavily, because part of the problem stemmed from the previous Vendor’s prejudice views on the matter. The only person that I ever met that was ”Gay” up to that time, was a High School Teacher named John Krayhand, whom the kids in school unmercifully, laughed at under their breath—making jokes and so forth. Mr. Krayhan was allegedly killed by a disgruntled student years later.
But by now I was under some real pressure—I finally decided to hire Irah, which turned out to be a good move, at least in the short term. He was cordial with the customers and had a good flair for displaying food products—and showed off his own creations; thus showing pride in his work. As a result we began to bring back clientele which had been lost from the troubles of the past few months. And as all these things were sorted out—I ended up firing the three ladies on various grounds that didn’t have anything to do with racially contrived ideas; so the momentum began to swing toward a more positive ambiance.
Further, with the mutual cooperation and of the proper functioning by the Cafeteria Staff, we found through trial and error, that we had developed An interesting method of creating a Breakfast Sandwich, like you would find at McDonalds’; this was really Irah’s own invention, by making this kind of “good morning Sandwich”. He would do this by popping egg into one of two Microwave Ovens, using a small soup bowl to contain the raw egg. Irah would have to remember to line the little bowl with a light coating of butter—and add a dab of non-dairy creamer to act as a stabilizer. This was so that the egg didn’t explode, while in the “Micro”. Then, Irah toasted separately the muffins, adding Canadian bacon or ham, or cheese. We quickly found that it was possible, if necessary, to do two Sandwiches simultaneously, using both ovens. However, during the Breakfast Rush We would invariably have one explode in one of the ovens—the egg splattering and coating the inside surfaces like glue—what a mess!
Over that period the idea of establishing a Salad Bar, which had been a popular idea at the time, was well in the works. My BEC, Guy Bolmer had ordered the equipment for me. Ira had plans for making it a very attractive display; by using, as he called it, “passionate purple”, which was actually Food coloring in the bed of ice that would keep the food elements cool during the lunch period.
With this going on, the Cafeteria Staff Employees, routinely added luscious things like, Kiwi and Ambrosia fruit salad -–and so this was my personal choice. We also added fresh Vegetables, like mushrooms and artichoke hearts -–and Ira made fresh Carrot, tuna and potato salads—and used freshly prepared avocados for Guacamole. These items were meant for making Taco Salad, for the Specials we would offer. Those scrumptious Taco Salads and Club Sandwiches eventually became our Signature items.
In addition to this, the Cafeteria Staff had offered—from our amply supplied Sandwich Bar, from which the Girls would make to order; one of perhaps forty different kinds of sandwiches—one to please any palate. They could create healthy type sandwiches—which was a popular trend at the time. We’d Come up with some creations using bean-sprouts instead of ice berg lettuce. Another variation was done by adding apple slices with black walnut and raisins, including Swiss—and or, cream cheese, on toasted dark rye bread—satisfaction was our guarantee.
After lunch—perhaps in the late afternoon, you might like a dollop of soft ice cream from our Ice Cream dispenser, vanilla or chocolate. You know, that Dispenser—the one needing cleaning every evening. With the guy, you can always count on, cleaning it—and doing it correctly. That is having none other than me, taking the complicated thing apart, and cleaning it inside and out— and even having to lube all the moving parts. With this I always had instilled in each of my employees of doing a good job. Value and service is our first commitment. In short, whatever could be made-up Fresh was top priority, before the lunch crowd rush was upon us.
We tried to demonstrate this kind of ideal, by holding to a high standard—making it as some form of a quality statement, to bring in the personnel from the building; this amounted to be over five-hundred and fifty workers. However running full out, has its price in the Business world, especially in the form of lacking direct experience with financial matters. And so this eventually became my real issue; and was quite subtle in the way it usually tends to start. Thus beginning innocently as the purveyors tantalize you by extending your credit base, for added variety. Then, as you’re new Business begins to grow. Over time, if factors beyond your immediate control become unmanageable—and hard decisions aren’t dealt with at the appropriate time, you thereby upset the fine balance of the cash flow. This causes a slow decline in capability, diminishing inventory—and ultimately, you become financially insolvent.
And it was by this time despite the excellent Training, I had been nearly wholly ignorant of these things, and lacking a real understanding of all these ramifications. Although even to a certain extent these problems had included issues that were well beyond the direct parlance of the Building Management itself. And just like dominos, one thing effects another. Which is to say that the dramatic Shift or posturing of personnel within the building—or, perhaps requiring that certain Divisions of workers were to be moved to a new facility.
So I really didn’t count on these factors. After all, the viability and only the specific quality of my Client base was of course my over-driving concern; However these things were strictly dependent on all the underlying aspects of all of those disparate matters; something I couldn’t calculate on my own. Nobody really could.
Still, on top of this, there were disgruntled Social Welfare Consumers, that periodically would play out their personal drama in the form of Bomb threats; and so the common response had required evacuation of the entire Building. In some cases, those disgruntled individuals would shoot super-glue in the perimeter door locks, in order to disrupt the daily activity within the building by locking the County Workers out. This would result in financial problems for me. In some cases, it cost me in the way of losing workers, which I had to invest the valuable time to Train all over again. It is because of all these things, some of my Cafeteria Employees couldn’t take the stress—not at the price of minimum wage. One time, I actually found an apron left-behind without an employee. The bye-word for this was that “She flew the coop”.
8.8. Bewildered Blink
Around this time, my sister Cathy asked me to give her son Rossen Tim Townsend, an opportunity to channel his energies toward something more constructive, rather than amercing himself with his own brand of creativeness. Tim eagerly joined in, by helping me during the summer to learn how to service the needs of the customers. And so Tim seemed to fit right in—he was a great help. However despite that extra help from my Nephew, I found that all these complications over this period were slowly mounting in the Cafeteria. And all of this caused me to fall into a depression; one that I tried to compensate with, by drinking lots of coffee.
I really felt that this response to the pressure, allowing the levity from the stimulant to lift my spirits; but this was no true answer. -–I had to sneak like a thief, because Mormon’s, as you might know don’t drink Coffee; and besides, I got caught a couple of times by Customers that were also Latter-day Saint or, that of the “Mormon” Faith.
Indeed, I was supposed to be a shining example for everyone else; but a woman who would come into my life who would have a pivotal effect toward my immediate future—in a curious way. She would temporarily defer this sadness and bewilderment. And so it had been in the midst of this socially sticky situation, where I had been personally relieved that this problem had gone away for a while.
But to begin with, through an interview for a Job I was offering; I found that there was a certain Lady who was named Judy Nickelle. She at that time was answering an Add that I had Posted for a full time position to assist Irah in the kitchen. Judy was mature and polite. So I hired her because she didn’t need any training. She knew how to handle Customers and didn’t question the hourly wage I was paying. And at length In the course of casual conversation, Judy mentioned that she was Hosting LDS—Mormon Missionaries in her home. These young adults required lodging or staying someplace until they could secure a place on their own. —I indicated that I grew up as a Mormon. Judy then asked me to visit the local Ward with her. This caused me to return to Church. And eventually Judy and I began to develop a real friendship—and ultimately, into a Romantic relationship over the next few months.
And as things were, it happened that Judy had a couple of Teenage Daughters, Debbie and Teresa. They seemed to like my overall personality—and I in turn had enjoyed the both of them. They along with their Mom were excited with the prospect of having a man in their life who could take care of their financial woes. So I had it in my mind that at least I would try.
Actually, events were happening quickly—like a whirlwind. Looking back at that time, this love affair was the wrong move to make, especially when the idea of Marriage appeared, but there were too many emotional needs on both sides. We were now too involved—so a short period of bliss, lasting about a year had dominated everything. Then the real problems came into play.
During our courtship, when visiting Judy’s home in the Town of Woodland, we both laughed when the overheated Car blew-up in front of her rented two story Victorian style house, in the downtown area; no problem, why not buy a new car! So I ended up buying a 1980 metallic-blue, Ford Thunderbird. I didn’t know a thing about cars—that was our first big clue in terms of not understanding the commitment we were planning to make toward a life with one another. Again, the real question was could Judy accept my apparent visual limitations in her life? Yet in our bliss, we could conquer anything, including hard work—even running a Business, namely the Cafeteria.
So over the following summer the girls pitched in, learning new skills. Just Like my Nephew Tim, Debbie and Teresa were also a big hit with the Customers. While at home the large house was quite different than what I was accustom to, in the way of knowing where thing should be—and keeping them organized, especially when living among “sighted folks”. It’s important for me as a Visually Impaired person, to communicate with others, in what I need to know based upon such a visual perspective; and just what I could reasonably manage on my own.
Still as a family we had a great deal of things that kept all of us busy, like household chores and other matters, when we weren’t working. One of those other things was the added pressure of paying for Debbie’s Wedding, when she turned eighteen. Though I wished her all the best, yet was nonetheless financially speaking, had found it a real drag. But well before Debbie’s wedding, during one particular weekend, I had felt the need to relax and was inspired to draw, by using soft pastel crayons; Being quite surprised that I had actually created such a beautiful portrait; Also Felt that I had captured a reasonable likeness of cute little Teresa, the younger Daughter. This effort was Aided by a Junior High School photo; using it mainly as a guide for accomplishing the rendering.
She was a pre-teen; and being at this particular sweet Affectionate age. Teresa had seemed to understand what I was trying to do for everyone else. So I was quite satisfied that the Drawing had turned out well. So much so, that Teresa was touched by my inspiration and sentiment; however this serene moment was short lived, because a little trickle of water from the hot water heater began to become a major mess.
The heater was down in the basement where I was storing all my things I wasn’t using, including my art treasures. Then, the heater suddenly failed—and burst open, flooding the basement. Nearly all of my belongings including a waterbed and other new furniture I had, when moving to the Garden Tower Apartments, had been all ruined.—I was truly devastated, finding all my paints and other precious works of art—and the associated artist equipment, having been either severely damaged or completely lost from that flooding incident.
And so it was Because of this type of plumbing problem—and other associated costs in upkeep for an older home, we decided a year later, when things began to become financially dicey, opted to move to Citrus Heights. We rented a smaller house there—and commuted to Sacramento to work. Although our ready-made family had a lot of wants, such as a new car for Debbie. “Not another new car”, I would plaintively say; yet reluctantly co-signing for the car, feeling trapped. Debbie, before her Marriage, back when she got her Driver’s Permit, could help with transportation; that would be the rationale if her new Daddy would only buy her a new one.
This new car turned out to be a Ford Mustang, wheat colored with black trim. But it was no doubt really expensive running a family—and this new Daddy was trying to adjust. Even so, when My Mother as she learned about our purchase of the car, had then caution me, saying that Judy and the girls all saw dollar signs. What Judy or my Mom didn’t really know at the time, that the Business was beginning to falter. The fact was Judy and I were not always on the same page, in terms of the proper approach to take. When it came to solving these kinds of matters, I tended to be more open with my personal situation—while Judy played things much, too close to the vest.
It was Over these Months where I finally was driven by frustration to go against my own wife’s wishes –-and eventually discussed the financial picture with my BEC—Guy Bolmer, along with his Program Supervisor, Joe Perillo; doing this, just as I should have from the beginning. Joe, in guarded language, indicated that he was questioning Judy’s motives. But surreptitious moves later would prove incorrect, on Joe’s part, as it related to the business-per-sea; and this would prove more correctly, in light of Judy’s personal agenda; mainly that all of that was based out of ignorance—more than anything else. Therefore the real problem between Judy and I was exactly in the way we dealt with people.
More frankly speaking, Judy played the Shrewd and smug, sometimes hardnosed know-it-all—and I was the introspective Peacemaker. She truly did not understand what I was feeling. —I tried to put it into words, which was my way. However, she merely chalked it up as an excuse or as “lip service”. So thinking that I was immature and weak, and toward the end of the Marriage, Judy assumed that it was due to my Blindness, citing social stigma and lacking opportunity.
She actually believed that Blind and Visually Impaired people were not as capable as their sighted peers. This was in turn, her excuse for not trying to hear me out. And that was the very thing—the lack of real understanding, which truly ended the Marriage for us; and yet, Marriage it was.
Looking back, I drew the distinction of having been married twice in the Oakland Mormon Temple. This time, this particular Marriage occurred on December 12 1980;
but only one Temple Marriage was actually recognized, because my Marriage to Sherri, as you might recall, was Annulled. With Judy While on our Honeymoon, up at Blue Lakes in Northern California, we had entrusted the Cafeteria to Irah for a week, and that’s when all hell broke loose. There was a shooting in the lobby downstairs, requiring that the personnel of the building be sequestered to the Cafeteria, until everything could be resolved.
However, when Judy and I returned to work we were shocked to hear of all the resulting drama. The Domestic Relations Division lost an officer in the shooting melee. These peace Officers carried guns in their vests, and were my best Customers. They helped me on occasion, with shoplifting issues, even if it was a few candy bars. All of Those guys took it seriously. And we mourned the loss of their fallen comrade. After this, the Domestic Relations Division was eventually transferred to a new Building.
And also it was around this period where I began to realize that Irah was becoming jealous of Judy, due to his twisted homosexual designs toward me personally—and including that of the Business. Yet unknown to me over this period, Irah was secretly taking Valium, to calm his nerves. His work performance was beginning to slip, causing me to have to talk to him, giving him some formal warnings. This only heightened the tension between Judy, Irah and me. —I eventually, with some regret had to let Irah go, mainly due to lack of performance on his part. Still all of the stress was unbearable, and was the type of thing that probably caused a most unfortunate accident.
This was an event which had precipitated over a very rush-filled Morning; Judy at one point was pulling a large boiling pot of a couple dozen eggs from the sink, accidentally sloshing the scalding water right into her lap, burning herself severely in the groin area. And I was afraid that the pain would throw her into an Epileptic seizure, as she was prone to have happen when under tremendous stress; which was of course, now the case.
Then someone rushed her to the Hospital, I think it was her Daughter Debbie, as I had to carry-on at the Cafeteria; because, I remember briefly in the cool of the brisk Morning, out by the car, shortly before they left—I could even with my limited vision see the rising vapors from the blistering welts. It was horrible seeing Judy writhing in pain; but I had to hurry back to handle the customers. Later I found out that Judy received second-degree burns; but eventually she fully recovered.
This kind of stress over time continued to increase, as I began receiving phone calls, having to do with falling behind payments for supplies and other Banking and cash flow issues. My anxiety mounted as the items could not be easily replaced on the shelves. At length the customers began asking embarrassing questions. Things like; “Where are my favorites?” And “wear’s all your stuff”! This was indeed a public humiliation I took seriously. So through all of this, I began dreading to come to work each Morning.
The fact was that I couldn’t even decide on what to wear for work. Which was usually an obvious choice; but given my state of mind, everything proved to become difficult. —I went as far as to ask my folks for financial help. My Dad kindly sent me some money to try to stave off the inevitable.
8.9. “Lost, But Not Truly Forgotten”!
Not long after the realization of all these financial problems, my folks came to see me on my twenty-eighth Birthday on 5 August. Dad was looking remarkably well, after suffering a slight Heart Attack a year earlier. Now he was in good spirits when meeting him on this special occasion. This had made me feel loved—, and I was proud of all the things he had done for me over the years. And even Earlier, the Family talked about Dad’s problems with his diagnosed heart condition, high blood pressure and what the Doctors wanted him to do—such as changing his diet, getting exercise and so forth.
So after our amiable visit the last thing My Father said to me while getting into the car, was to trim the branches of the small tree in the front yard—“What a Dad” I mused. Then they were off—I was now waving and smiling. Then the following Sunday on August ninth, Judy and I had just arrived home from Church. —I got a call from my Family. It was my youngest Sister Bev—on the phone sounding sad and serious, saying; “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, your Dad has just passed away”. This came as a total shock to me. He seemed to be doing so well. My throat then tightened, heart pounding. —I called out to Judy, shouting, “Dad had died”! We immediately dropped everything and raced down to Modesto, to see what we could do for the family.
While at the house, Mom and the others told us of the events leading up to Dad’s death.
They said that he had been in the shower and felt tremendously dizzy—and began vomiting up everything he had eaten at breakfast. Then Mom laid Dad on the bed—and made him as comfortable as possible; but lying there very still, pale and sweating, Dad had lapsed into a coma. Even the arriving Paramedics couldn’t get the vital signs they were looking for, and they immediately transported him to Memorial North Hospital. My Father had suffered a fatal Aneurism to the Brain—and died, either in transit, or shortly after arriving at the Hospital.
Before this, the scene with the Paramedics played out in front of my Brother Craig, who did not comprehend the situation. Craig, with a child-like reasoning, assumed that Dad would magically return after all of the drama, right before the proverbial Television Commercial, just like the Paramedics on TV. However, in reality, Dad would never come home again, and Craig could, or would never forget, nor except or forgive such betrayal, in his physically limited mind.
So Craig eventually had to live in a Residential Home setting for Down’s syndrome Adults, because of his on-going resentful behavior—such as never coming to the Dinner table, choosing to eat his food cold. Remaining aloof, and to himself. Of course, like Craig, Mom was in shock, the family arriving on mass, asking lots of questions.
I had only three days to be with the family, with Judy leaving to run the Business in my absence. Judy later had said that Joe Perillo was upset that a qualified Vendor wasn’t present at the Location—and because of this, we were in trouble with the Department.
Meanwhile, my Brother Tom received the bad news when on the ball field, suddenly called over the PA, in front of everyone. He was in the middle of a Minor League Baseball game. Tom had not long ago signed with the Mets Organization, and proved to be a star Pitcher –
Over the years Dad had been really prowled of his youngest boy; because Tom had become quite an invaluable asset to his Triple “Ay” Team. So now, his Teammates had quickly Ponied-up the money for a Plane Ticket home, for their shocked and saddened Team member. Then Dad’s Brother Harry –and The folks from Utah finally arrived, including Mom’s Brothers, Grant, Norman and Robert. They assisted in the Funeral preparations.
Each of Mom’s Brothers along with me, had dressed Dad in his Temple Garments. It was good closure for me, handling his body; as this was something that I could tangibly identify with, connecting that highly personal and reverent moment—with fond memories I could call upon, whenever I needed to. Also I was honored in being selected to give the Dedicational Prayer at the Family Viewing. Uncle Norman took me aside before the prayer. He suggested that I use an analogy, of one’s passing, likened to that of a Ship, passing over the horizon—and is lost from sight, lost, but not truly gone.
Then after Dad’s death, Judy began to have more severe Epileptic seizures. Once, in the middle of the Night, I was suddenly uprooted from a deep sleep, as she let out a spooky guttural cry—shaking violently in the throes of a particularly strong seizure. It was to be perhaps the most frightening experience I have ever had, up to that time, because of my degree of stress and exhaustion—being jolted out of bed like that. It took a day or two for Judy to recover from that kind of Epileptic episode.
I was praying that this relentless hell all would somehow come to end, but HOW? For the business, we had to find other sources for providing products. That meant going out, buying them from Retail Stores, a day at a time. Taxes and then Payroll were beginning to be an issue. Soon our entire cash flow was not sufficient to support the Cafeteria, to say nothing of our own income. We were falling behind in our payments at home. The cars were repossessed several times, as we tried in vain to keep them. Without a car, Judy and I had to get up super early to catch a bus to get to work. But this effort was short-lived, as Judy desperately—and secretly bought a small used car, an English Ford, to get us to work. –I don’t know how she paid for it, but it must have been from the Rent money, because I received a call from the Landlord, demanding his payment.
By then we were called things like “dead-beats”. This was the last straw. I had to at any cost reach out for help. The only way I could cause myself to feel anything—I was numb and disconsolate. I thought that I needed to physically hurt myself, by pounding on the back counter, at the sink, forcing me to cry out. When I did that, I couldn’t for the life of me stop crying. Judy’s Daughter Debbie had no choice but to stop everything she was doing, and drove me home. There were two awful episodes of this—and then I did not care what would, could-or even should happen. It felt good to show my feelings, even when it wasn’t appropriate. I In fact, was not a nice guy to the Customers—or with anyone else. It was as if I was a different person. So I finally resolved to stop all of this crap from continuing, and picked up the dreaded phone—and called Guy Bolmer, the BEC to setup a formal meeting—and then resign my Location, because I had only two days before the I R S was going to put a lock on the doors anyway.
My emotional detachment made the next sequence of events take place quickly. It was surreal, being detached that way. —I calmly described every detail without rancor. Not blaming anyone in particular—just spilling the bear facts. Nobody at that Meeting, which included Guy Bolmer, Joe Perillo, Mr. Coffeen and my Wife and of course me;—none of us didn’t look to point fingers. They all knew that I had reached my limit, emotionally and psychologically; and if antagonized further, I would blow uncontrollably like a bomb. At least, that’s what I felt inside. The best thing to do was calm the situation as quickly as possible. So at that point, when I signed over the location, all responsibility lifted from my shoulders; and that was when I actually felt quite a profound feeling of relief.
So after the Meeting we began to set in motion –of getting the resources together in order to receive General Assistance. Our little family was advised to apply from another County other than Sacramento, to minimize our personal exposure, with the local Social Welfare Workers. However, we found during this interim, when waiting for processing. That is, involving the application for reestablishing SSI -–all that had proved to be agonizing,
If I remember correctly, it nearly took six months to resolve. Over this time, we got help from the Church in the form of welfare—and I found myself working at Deseret Industries, a Sheltered Workshop, through the Mormon Church; which was based upon a strict basis of benevolence, This was a program designed to aide Disabled persons. However that didn’t help my self-esteem at all. While at the “Sheltered Workshop”, I earned only a wage of a dollar sixty-eight per hour, cutting rags, sorting clothing and working in the warehouse. I also was kept busy with assembling and filling boxes, which contained packages of roasted Almonds to be put on pallets for shipment, for the up-coming Christmas Season.
Meanwhile, Judy worked with the “Relief Society”, an Auxiliary within the Mormon Church, Which was a Woman’s Activity Service. We as a family would in return, could receive food commodities, and the Church would pay our Rent and Utilities in the present home from which we were residing. Additionally, we were obligated to pay a full ten percent Tithe to the Church. This all served well for a time, but we needed to move forward, finding our own way, somehow.
Now once again our small family had relocated—this time moving to Fair Oaks in Northern California. The four of us were squeezed into a tiny Apartment, as I made an attempt to re-gather my workability skills.
I was endeavoring to focus my interests, trying to go back to College. In a hurried way, I had scheduled a Semester at Cunsumus River City College, taking Social Services classes, to recapture my enthusiasm. The scheme didn’t work, because when there was any pressure in meeting deadlines for assignments, I panicked and could not complete the tasks. Thus highly Frustrated, I decided to end my Marriage with Judy—and come back home to Modesto—but , this time it wasn’t-”back to the grindstone”, as when I returned from OCB. I had been ground up by that grindstone itself”!—and feeling as if I were a failure.
BOOK TWO:
A Rising Star
CHAPTER NINE
”A Phoenix Rises from the Ashes
I moved back to Modesto in April 1982. However, with only half of my personal belongings which were set out on the back patio, so that I could discretely take them without any further conflict with Judy. Further, I didn’t have the emotional strength to explain the situation with Judy’s Daughters—not knowing what to say. It was a tough road we were all on—and was best that I should go my own way.
So with help from my older brother Rick (born Richard Chad) he was kind enough to extricate me along with my belongings, with the use of his pickup—talking as brothers (one to another) as only Brothers can do. We drove the two-hour trip back to Modesto. Mostly, our discussion of Corse was about the loss of Dad. Over this time, it hadn’t been that long after the fact. Then eventually we talked more about life in general.
Yet Up to now I haven’t seen or heard of Judy and the girls since. To be honest, I don’t exactly blame my wife for all the problems we had experienced. Still over the intervening time, I don’t think of them very often, as this chapter in my life had evidently closed—and the value in this lesson was certainly learned—a hard knock to be sure.
I rejoined my blind comrades soon after I had landed in Modesto, which was at a Meeting of the newly formed organization, called The Stanislaus Association of the Blind, or as we often referred to it as the S.A.B. The Association Members of course had been building upon various goals, set in motion as I was away. And it was quite Evident that the Membership had been making good progress in establishing a strong presents in the community. Indeed, it was great to see my good friends like Mark and Gary—and meeting new people as time went on.
One of these new persons was Betty Cemino. She suggested when hearing of my problems, that I see Mr. Auki, a Psychologist at a Family Service Center on Fourteenth Street. Betty explained she had a recent Divorce and he was helpful in her case. In addition, she suggested a Legal Counselor that could help with my own Divorce matters. So I took Betty up on her ideas and met with Dr. Oggie, the Psychologist—Meeting with him once a week over a period of months. In the Sessions, I mainly talked freely about everything, my way of looking for a root cause for what had happened. The Doctor pointed out that I appeared to be resolving issues on my own—and needed only to take short steps, in establishing goals that I could realistically achieve.
As time moved along, this was exactly what I was doing as a natural course, mostly with the help from my friend, Gary Mashado. His endless patience and encouragement was much appreciated. Then I began to integrate into the usual activities, such as College, Bowling on Saturdays—and working at the S.A.B Office. My Mother reminded me often of the material things I had lost in the Divorce, including the beloved hand-made Typing Table, I had built while at the Orientation Center, but I didn’t really care; I wanted only to clean the slate—and move on to greater things. So The Divorce was finalized toward the end of the year -–and like the first, it had been based solely on irreconcilable differences.
Early on through my adjustment, Gary and I would often walk from the Bowling Center, as the League by now had relocated to Mchenry Avenue. And after bowling, we went over to grab a lunch, usually at Monty’s Restaurant; enjoying their pie—kicking around new ideas for both our Bowling League and Blind Association.
In fact, it was through this type of growth, that along with all the others—I honed the skills and methods, that my close Friends Mark—along with Jerry Cole—where they had originally developed a great idea, that ultimately became an ingenious way of creating a door to door Transportation project. This actually involved promoting a Community Service, initiated by our own means. And one that highlighted the presence of blind folks, doing something positive, independent and tangible in the Community. That new Transportation Service eventually became a forerunner to a Para transit, or so-called Dial-a-ride system, which would serve the Disability Community, by Federal and State and County Statutes, just as the new ADA legislation required.
9.1.”Dial-a-Ride”
Before I arrived on the scene Jerry Cole and Mark along with the others, had agreed upon (according to the Association’s newly formed Bylaws) which was to press on—and doing this by periodically receiving donated, office equipment. That included basic things such as; desks, telephones, tables and chairs. The Membership based upon the plan had finally agreed to—and admittedly with some trepidation, had Purchased additional big ticket items; like a minivan, to transport members to and from Association Meetings. Then the group added equipment that used Business band Radios, along with the necessary Antennas.
However, the Van was eventually traded, in favor of a car, which would act as a Cab when dispatched, while using the two-way radios. We kept a detailed Dispatch Log, as a record to report the growth and progress of the Service, noting the costs of expenditures in gasoline—and also for tracking the required maintenance of the vehicle, for insurance purposes.
The Association members eventually found that the car was more economical to operate than the Van. We needed also to officially track the hours worked, by the individuals hired through Community Work Incentives Programs. These are Federal and State Programs like; Work-C.E.E.D.A and J.T.P.A, which was negotiated through a Contract with the Blind Association and the City of Modesto.
In addition, this relationship was administered through the City and County—and was known as the Central Valley Opportunities Center, or C.V.O.C—and in turn, was tracked through the Mayor’s Advisory Committee for the Disabled; and eventually was approved by the City Council. With all of this, representatives from our group like Manual Gonsalves, who was adept in communicating our needs and concerns, as it related to the Organized Blind. So that form of City Governmental Constituency, had held together more or less over the next twenty years. For us the pattern of intergovernmental cooperation, would thereby become familiar standard operating practices, throughout this entire period. And for that matter, Manual continued to push for a Commission for the Blind. He along with like-minded individuals would imagine Blind and Visually Impaired folk, having a Seat on the City Council. With this, we could direct the affairs of Blindness issues more judiciously.
Also around this period, through a generous donation we Association Members were quite fortunate, in obtaining a lighted glass counter display, that was perfect for displaying products for Blind and partially sighted patrons. In fact, these so called Aides and Appliances included; Canes, Braille paper, Braille Watches, Slate-and-Stylists, used for note taking in Braille; and there were also a variety of Magnifiers, with illumination and some without, for Low-vision folk. We even sold Board Games especially made for the blind, like Checkers and Chess.
We S.A.B Office Workers also sold the popular vinyl Braille Playing Cards, like the ones the Visually Impaired Students used at the Community College. Further, the S.A.B Organization acquired these items from a variety of Vendors. That included the San Francisco Light House—and a Freelance Purveyor of products for the Blind and “low-vision” patrons, called Ann Morris Enterprises. . Ann’s business was quite successful—and over this period, was well known in Blindness circles.
I recall meeting Ann Morris when she first began her product distribution. Now she was enjoying Retirement. She had sold her prosperous venture to another Blind entrepreneur, which was a Company called Blind-mice Mart. However back then, we tried to keep the costs in line to make things more equitable, than trying to make a large profit. Debbie Hansen especially delighted in merchandising these products, as she always looked for new and unusual products to be sold.
Yet, in the Door-to-Door Transportation department, Mark Lemmons was in his element, serving as the Transportation Dispatcher at the Association Office. It was possible to allow each blind person a couple of stops, if they didn’t take too long with their errands —so we budgeted the time accordingly. In addition to this, Mark showed me how to take part in the regular routine for each working day, as we treated this activity like a real job. We as volunteers of course, didn’t receive payment for our efforts. However, over the next few years as the popularity of the Service grew, a plan was worked out with the Blind Association, to provide Mark with a gratuity, as a fair exchange for his time, while eventually, I moved-on to the Community College scene once again.
Although spending that time with my buddy Mark—finding for myself that it certainly had been a confidence builder. It was just the same very enjoyable. And we Association Members over this time dreamed of developing on-going Office skills, ultimately, hoping that all of these efforts would become a paid position for those of us, who could perform the day-to-day duties, under the auspices of a Local Commission for the Blind, but, alas, this dream wasn’t meant to be.
Still overall we gained the satisfaction of knowing that our transportation services to the local Blind Community, had truly opened up possibilities—that it was giving Blind and Visually Impaired person’s greater mobility, efficiency, satisfaction and over all, a larger sense of wellbeing.
Of course we all remember fondly Maladi Humsy, a woman from the town of Nazareth, in Israel. She loved to make baklava, a Middle Eastern pastry, bringing it into work to share this delicious treat with everyone. Her dedication to the work as a Driver, was remarkable. However, Once Maladi was so stressed in keeping up with the transportation demands, she cried-out over the two-way Radio, saying; ”What do you think I am, I’m not-a Helicopter”! Maladi eventually went to work for the MJC College, involved with their Work Experience Department, located in the campus library building. She was an excellent example of what could be accomplished when working through the CVO.C contract,
Moreover, I found as things stood through my focused efforts, with these real, tangible applications—becoming part of the overall process, thereby dealing with Details such as acquiring “screened individuals” to be trained by us, as automobile Drivers for our unique Transportation needs; all these things would be much the case, until these workers had good footing in the working world. So we really had our own work cut out for us. This was very true, especially in dealing with people that needed confidence building of their own.
One individual was a guy that I happen to know from my boyhood. His name was Allen DeaBaur. While Living on Whittier Street, many years ago, I had been paling around with Allen’s younger brother Stanley. Allen happen to be older than all of those kids of the neighborhood, a leader of sorts. Allegedly, he stole some wood from the School Carnival to build our two-story Fort in our back yard at home. He was a nervous type and Mark told me to “Handle him with kid gloves’.
We found that Allen could on occasion become agitated and angry. I believe that he was trying to deal with some mental Disability of some form, so we were very patient, giving him a lot of rope. Eventually, he ran out of rope. In fact, the stress wasn’t good for any of us; that became quite evident during one final outburst. At this point, Mark over the Radio called Allen back to the Office. Allen was pissed—and through down his clipboard and threw his keys. Then he said he quit. And Mark countered with the quip; “Well then, don’t let the door hit yah, where the good Lord split yah!
My friend Mark at that time was always able to confront people better than I—and he had a gift for coming-up with quaint Southern expressions, he got from his Dad, especially when he, Mark, was particularly perturbed. —I busted out laughing when Mark dismissed Allen that way. However, we both feel badly about Allen’s problems—and we hope he can somehow reconcile his apparent Social difficulties.
On a happier note about Allen, I recall that he helped all the kids in the neighborhood, with building wooden go-carts, made from two by fours, using old wheels from pairs of strap on metal skates. He then added a large bolt and screw to pivot the front part of the cart, with an attached rope for steering the front of the I-Frame. Allen would then add a back piece to rest our backs against, as we rode on the center part of the contraption. Kids now-a-day do not have much of a concept in taking what they have on hand—and using their ingenuity; thus building something from scrap. They would rather buy a ready to assemble kit instead.
This reminds me of the time when we kids were involved with Summer Activities in the Park. That was across the street from where we lived—where my brothers and I participated in the annual miniature Soapbox car Races. The Park Officials build a large ramp-like track. Dad helped us design, shape, sand and paint these little wooden works of art. Mine was a sleek yellow car, decked-out with green trim, called ”Old-Yeller”; While Craig’s was a bright Green Roadster with a streak of Silver lightning painted on the sides.
Rick’s Car was a Purple and White Maserati that went the fastest, because he worked with it until he had a winner. When Rick entered High School—and then into his College years. He excelled on the track and was also a Winner at Basketball, while attending the University of Nevada, at Los Vegas.
9.2. Beach Parties
When celebrating Family Birthdays we decided that it was next to impossible to do justice wile commemorating all the Birthdays found in the Month of August, including my own. My youngest Sister Bev’s Birthday is on the Fourth of August. Bob Thompson, My Brother in-law’s Birthday, was the same as mine, on the Fifth, while Vicki’s, was on the Thirteenth. Bob and Vicki had a small but comfortable home in Monte Rio.
Beginning in the early 80s, The entire Family held an annual Beach Party near their house, usually at places along the beaches, known as Brides Beach, Goat Rock and Portuguese Beach, not far from Bodega Bay, famous for the Hitchcock movie-thriller, ”The Birds”. These gatherings always had been around Indian summer, where we could also celebrate Craig’s Birthday, which was October Sixth. Overall our family has fond memories of trying to corral Craig, as he ran ahead of us, joyfully diving into the waves.
When along the beach, we would dig a Pit and built a fire to gather close together, as it was cool and windy on the sand, or when it was getting dark and we would want to linger, admiring the Moonlit Ocean waves. Further all of us especially looked forward to Mom’s large Pot of Bouillabaisse, a kind of Fish-based soup, like that found in the South of France. We welcomed that steamy bowl with lots of Veggies in it. It had a robust flavor and was tasty on those cool evenings. Then after a fun-filled day of Beach Volleyball, playing Frisbee and strolling along the Ocean shoreline.
Sometimes we would cozy-up –and pass a gallon jug of wine for those of us bold enough—passing it all around—and we guys got pretty snockered. And I recall that one time when Tom, our little Brother, all-of six foot four, couldn’t figure how to climb down from a high and steep ledge. He was intoxicated, and tense, making us all nervous for a while. It was well understood that those Family members who didn’t drink were the Designated Drivers for the evening.
During this period, Mom’s Mother Lois sadly passed away. She hailed from Utah. We kids were close to our Grand Parents, John and Lois Olsen. We youngsters always had fond memories of their annual visits. Grandma Lois in particular, would reed children classics like, Hansel and Gretel—and Jack and the Beanstalk. Dad knew it was important that we should attend Grandma’s funeral—giving us proper closure.
After the formalities, some of the family members wanted to see Yellowstone National Park, bearing in mind, Mom’s reminisces of the past. Our Mother had many pleasant visits as a child, with her folks when they were living in Utah. At any rate, since we were in the general vicinity, some of us chose to explore the area anyway, at least, as best we could—this, after having to depart from Grandma. To be sure—we Family Members would be left only with her memory. Although several of us were interested in venturing onward, to clear our clouded minds from the grievous experience of a Family Funeral.
9.3. In the Mountains of the Moon!
Yellowstone was a nice diversion from the sadness over losing Grandma—and as a young adult, I found that I had enjoyed the Trip immensely. However, after leaving the Park, along with Claudia, I decided to take a side trip with Vicki and Bob. This excursion would take place before we returned to California. After driving throughout the day—and getting somewhat lost. Darkness was now closing-in on us; so we all chose to stop to sleep.
Arriving at night, we tired travelers found a nice comfortable piece of grass to spread out our sleeping bags on. It was late—and we were all much too exhausted to ascertain just where we were. But to our surprise, the early Morning light revealed that the nice patch of grass, turned out to be part of a golf course, which had automatic sprinklers, with bad timing—as far as we were concerned; that was because the spray from the sprinklers rousted us from our bags, causing us to seek the shelter of Dad’s van that we borrowed for the trip. This was the same van that Dad had planned to use for his Tropical fish business.
While arranging for the Utah trip, in order to insure extra comfort, we had thought to add four plush swivel seats from the folks game set, which came from home. But unfortunately, the seats swivel and tottered too much to be of any real use. And so by Now, lacking sleep—and because the day was upon us—and of course, we could not sleep in a hot van. Then Bob popped a little white pill, giving me a couple as well—not really knowing exactly what this was for, yet I dutifully took one just to see what might happen.
In the meantime, we all discovered when at the golf course, that we were in the locality of a famous Monument, called Mountains of the Moon, a National Park in Idaho. Bob thought this excursion would be interesting to see, especially for me, as I was a self-proclaimed” space-buff”. However, before we actually entered into the park proper, Bob, Claudia and I took the van to have it gassed and serviced, for the return trip home. We left the plush chairs behind to make more room for repacking the van, leaving Vicki by herself.
She was sunning herself, sitting in one of the chairs, and alone in the middle of nowhere, not even vegetation was showing. Vicki peered over the wide vista of flat expands—seemingly, displaying a view, that of nothingness. Soon she saw that There was a car—and then another. The vehicles all had passed by, as the drivers honked their horns –and were laughing at the strange specter.
Meanwhile, servicing the Van took longer than we thought it should have taken, so we were all glad to get out of the hot breeze and glare of the sun. Finally, we arrived at the Monument. After seeing the visitor’s Center, with its interesting dioramas of historical relics. —I went Along with the others, feeling lifted by the stimulant from the little white Dexedrine pill.
We explorers clambered through the outcrops of the barren terrain. It was like being on Mars more than that of the Moon. The reddish volcanic crust made a crunching sound, under foot, as we slowly moved along its dry, craggy, uneven baked surface—with an attractive young woman serving as our Guide.
While on the tour, the pleasant Guide was busy explaining what we were seeing. But, I only saw the Moon or Mars—and was holding a nice specimen, waiting for the right moment to interject a snide but carefully orchestrated herring, about finding a rock from another planet. Finally, when there was a convenient break in the guide’s remarks, I went into my act, bolstered by that little white pill. I sang out; “look what I just found, I found Armolikite!—getting this idea from a book describing minerals found only on the Moon. The word Armolikite was derived from the combination of parts of the famed and immortal names, of Armstrong Aldrin and Collins. Now, I brought the specimen closer to the knowing gaze of the cute guide—continuing with smug assurance. I exclaimed—”Look, you can see that it’s Hypidiomorphic, and granular—porphyritic, with Gray/green phenecris … “I don’t know, can you see-there’s some twinning” inside”! The Guide looked into my abnormal eyes, seeing them rolling wildly. —I don’t know exactly what she was thinking, but she must have thought I was from Mars, I’m sure!—not a blind-guy, hyped-up on Dexedrine.
9.4. “Dial-a-while”
During the summer months, particularly when there was time for visiting my close friends Chris and Debbie, the Visually Impaired colleagues from School—and especially now looking back, I can recall that the Hansen home brings lots of memories to mind, centering on Spaghetti Dinners—you can bet, without powdered Orange Kool-Aid in it. We all regaled over nostalgic moments of the past, when we were young and dumb.
Chris would always tell of the Story when He and his Buddy Nick Stone, as they were together at OCB, had nearly fallen off of Albany Hill—totally blind, these guys were in the business of daring one another, testing each other’s nerve. This was when traveling up the winding streets, finding new pathways to take—and giving in to their boyish and prankish nature. However,
Another side of Chris’s personality was his Musical talent, playing the Flute and Clarinet. His skill at Journalistic Writing was one of possessing a keen whit—getting published regularly in the local newspaper, The Modesto Bee. Also, Chris’s writing was on the Conservative side, on matters having to do with Social Political and Religious views; and eventually he received a Degree in Biblical-Studies at Golden Gate University.
So it is no surprise, that some of our conversation, among ourselves would seem to always engage in marathon discussions, even occasionally waxing eloquently, on mainly technical and abstract topics. These invariably would have to do with scientifically based theories. Those ideas eventually spilled over into the subject of intelligent design that sparked sharp debates, which mainly stemmed from my particular Mormon views. Though through his University studies, Chris was beginning to show signs of scholarly aptitude, involving his Fundamental Christian beliefs. And so through this competitive sparring, a seed in my heart was planted, but I didn’t know it at the time that this would prove to be providential; and that ultimately it would build upon my spiritual growth; there will be more to say about that in a later Chapter. However,
Throughout those halcyon years, a basis of a real friendship with Chris and Debbie would endure, even over a ten year gap that had to do with the inevitable fortunes of life’s losses and its gains over time. Although When visiting their family years ago, I particularly found that I had enjoyed entertaining their two young girls, Christina and Marina -–fondly remembering the Dial-a-Ride Bus, that all-important Para transit type Service, which eventually emerged on the scene.
So it was that we regular customers initially mocked the Service, during its formative years, due to shoddy transportation methods, giving its name, new satirical epithets like—“Dial-it-died, Dial-a-prayer, and our favorite, “Dial-A-while”. I’m sure the Hansen Kids didn’t really know the true name of the Transportation Service, what it actually was—until they were old enough to figure all that out.
9.5. High Tech
Back in 1977, Chris and I flew a ”Valley Hopper” to San Francisco, to see the Annual West coast Computer Fare. The new Home Computing Market was gearing up—and the wonders of what was conceivably possible, in the near future –and by now, has had its fruition.
We knew College Students looking back, had learned the origins of Calculating devices, that we know fondly today, as Mainframe Computers—and what was about to emerge on the market for the coming year or two. And I’m sure we Students were encouraged toward this effort by Bill Jones, one of the Computer Science Instructor sas we all learned the rudiments of a computing system. The Student and Staff collectively worked in the on-Campus Computer Lab, with its elaborate Mainframe systems. And I clearly remember having to endure the common starts and fits, from this rudimentary process, which used the now primitive Mainframe system that supported decks of Hollerith cards, which contained the computer code that augmented the overall system. So during those first years throughout this period (spanning over fifteen years of technological growth)—from about 1973 to 1988—we all had to retool. The Students on Campus often took Business related Courses; like Intro to Hardware and Software development.
Thus it was before wide use of the Internet had even become possible, students were beginning to complete their work, using Word Processors. These were viewed as merely fancy breeds of electric typewriters. None-the-less, they were eventually called Home Computers, because they became stand-alone systems, with some embedded Computer-chips stored onboard, that was being used for the first time.
Additionally, as a matter of course, we Disabled Folk were faced with a problem that really needed to be solved; as things were, while in the Computer Lab, I needed to have an Instructor, a Lab Assistant or fellow Student to read or correct various problems, Otherwise, I was left with having to use a magnifier to see the black and white Monitor. Some of these “Dummy-Displays” were later changed, from black and white Monitors, to show either, Amber or Green on a black background. This was easier for all to read, including myself. However, I still had to use the hand-held magnifier from time-to-time; or more often was the case, having to press my nose to the screen, trying to see the Display –and learning to manipulate the new “mouse” –“point and click” system.
The clattering form feed-printers were exasperating in this large Lab environment, as there was a high demand for getting our work Printed out on time, so we could meet Class-work deadlines. Also the Lab Assistants in order to save time, would quickly applied the appropriate keystrokes to solve the current problem, so I couldn’t see exactly what was done—and thereby wouldn’t learn a thing in the process. Since I was slower during the course of this situation, my assignments were always late—but the Instructors usually understood, thankfully, cutting me some slack.
About this time the Disability Department with Bob Williams taking the lead, as Department Head, had formed a Committee through the ADDA, or able- Disabled Association. This was an On-campus Advocacy Group, with Berry Smith, as President. Chairing the Working Committee was Dwight Bateman. This pro-active group was charged to look into the various needs and Problems concerning the Hi-Tec environment.
Years later, Berry Smith, Dwight Bateman and myself, would work together in other capacities, while at the Disability Resource Agency for Independent Living Center. That is, the ILC, known as DRAIL, and also, we again collectively worked a couple years later. Through the Local Association of the United Cerebral Palsy of Stanislaus County.
Yet, it was through this critical period of Governmental planning that Federal and State Funding was becoming available. This was in part concerned with the regulatory design to establish Small Centers, like a Resource Room on College Campuses for all Disabled individuals, to be used in learning the Access Technology processes. So, The ADDA Steering Committee eventually documented the varied needs—and defined the criterion, through State Guidelines, deemed necessary in order to Apply for funding, for the actual AT, or Access Technology System Delivery Plan.
All of that included Instruction and Training; and before long, we Committee Members found an Instructor who could meet these challenges head on. That was then, when Desdamone Zaugie, or Mona, began her long Tenure as the High-Tec Center Instructor. She was previously employed at the CYA—California Youth Authority (a prison for young Offenders). “Mona’s” demeanor was tough on the outside and soft inwardly, like an M & M.
For the most part, Mona was used to dealing with Wayward Kids, who required tough talk, demanding an authoritarian form of guidance. She expected a lot from her Students—and rewarded those who worked hard to learn the basics from Assistive Software, like Freedom1, the popular screen reader—and DECtalk, a Speech Processer That allowed a Blind or Visually Impaired person to navigate the Computer Screen. This allowed them to listen to the speech synthesizer, with its Clear array of Voices to choose from.
Based upon the fact that my primary interest at that time was to learn as much about Computers as possible. Mona had recognized this—and she and I developed a good rapport over the next several years. In fact I would eventually become one of her Lab Assistants, teaching others what I just learned.
Lately, I had been rummaging through some old files from my College days –and fortunately found a Paper, that I composed about my experiences, as a High Tec Lab Assistant. The following is what I Wrote at that time…
Terry Miller
English 1O1
23February, 1989
Worlds of Opportunity:
“I stood over my student’s shoulder, observing the young man’s progress. He is linked to a computer via speech synthesizer, with headset. His nimble fingers danced lightly over the one-hundred-odd keys of the keyboard.
As the cursor moved across the screen, the speech synthesizer, in an almost human-like voice, enunciated the words as he went along.
“
“Oops, missed that one!’ The student exclaimed.
“Slow down a bit,” I cautioned: “Tap your word—left, Hit Alt command once, and listen to it again’…... –I continued, ’Now, do you hear the problem? “What is your strategy to correct the mistake?”
“’Well,” the student paused and then said, “I do an alt-S command to read letter forward, until I come to the character, I want to delete’.
”’That’s right’, I said, “Now let’s do it’…
I find a great sense of accomplishment and deep satisfaction, along with my compatriots, as we master the challenging elements required of us, in the High Tech Lab. It is initially an involved process, to learn how successfully to navigate on a computer, by using Access Technology devices; like the DecTalk Speech Processor, and screen reading software, such as Freedom1. Once these concepts are mastered, they become a powerful tool to be used in the educational and vocational environment.
Up to now, we Blind Students have had to perform all of our reading and writing tasks with the aid of others, serving as readers and scribes; but, due to the innovative use of computers, along with the strong determination “to make it”, in the “real world, Blind and Disabled individuals are now better equipped and equal to the challenge. For the past few years—I have been interested in Adaptive Technology, as a vocation. Further, I’m a people-oriented person with a propensity toward teaching.
At this time, I am gaining both valuable and practical experience in this area, by serving as a Student Lab Assistant, with Disability Services at Modesto Junior College.
It so happens that there is few experienced people available with the special skills, necessary to teach the great influx of disabled persons, coming into the marketplace. Because of this, I am engaged in ongoing research in my spare time at the college—and wherever else this research takes me. I find it necessary to keep pace with the state-of the art developments in this ever-changing profession.
Recently, I had the opportunity to talk with Marcia Norris, the Director of Support Services for High Tech Centers through our Hi-tec lab’s head-office, in Sacramento. —
I discovered that Marcia holds a Master’s degree in Speech Pathology. She shares the same philosophy or teaching as myself. In addition, I also found that it is necessary to obtain a Master’s Degree in education, With a Specialist Credential in either education or rehabilitation, in order to professionally teach adaptive technology.
Along with Marcia’s fourteen years of experience under her belt, teaching Special Education; she is now an Administrative Assistant); who knows full well the value of quality teaching. Marsha explained that it is very important to define the student’s ability, to exhibit his or her own learning style—and doing this while the Instructor audits and modifies these activities as appropriate.
She said “We need to build in confidence by using a positive approach. She calls this the “psychology of teaching”. That point was emphasized throughout our discussion. She then told me, “With these skills, I know you will be successful in however you choose to apply them.”
We next shifted the conversation toward the need for making careful choices for using access devices—and software tools, to insure proper effectiveness and compatibility. This is necessary in order to support the full gamut of the physical requirements, of all the needs of the “disabled”, as mandated by the state code for Special Education.
After my concluding remarks with Marcia, I felt reassurance and a sense of confidence, about my own abilities in achieving my goal, that of gaining a credential in Special Education. For now, although, I have at least four more years of schooling left. But, I figure, it’s only a matter of time; for there is a whole world of opportunity out there, waiting for me.
However, I had a Devil of a time with learning Mathematics, especially Algebra; with Dr. Steinhoff, my Instructor assisting me. He took extra time exercising patience through several attempts by tutoring me, in order to pull up my grades. With the kind Instructor’s help, I finally passed with barely a”C” Grade, in Intermediate Algebra.
This enabled me to fulfill the Graduation Requirement. I fared better in Computer Science Classes and did even better in Art, namely in Don Larson’s Sketching, Oil Painting and Sculpturing Classes. Moreover, Mr. Larson was very good in helping me visualize what I couldn’t see, by using words in order to describe what I needed to know; like how to apply each crucial stroke of the paint brush, or with each step in the development of other projects that I engaged in.
I recall working on a large Oil Painting of a scene of Mount Whitney, where I took the idea from a brightly colored Post-card, depicting the scene I was trying to capture. When at Home, struggling with this difficult Project, My folks took their turn in helping, whenever I “erred,” thus endeavoring to capture the effect I Wanted. That Painting now proudly hangs in the Living Room, in my Home to this Day, representing one of the few Works of Art I have left.
Although while in the Sculpturing Class, I did much the same, by taking the Project home with me, in order to have extra time to work out some pending details. This time, it was my Sister Cathy who helped, especially when the task went awry. —I was engaged in creating a Bust of Mr. Albert Einstein, who was depicted in this work, of having an upward gaze, peering at the Heavens.
My first rendering, while developing the mud-clay form, was precisely what I wanted to capture. Mr. Larson was pleased in what I accomplished—and I was intrigued with the in depth process of developing the shape of the Cranium, or bony shape of the Head. With each facial feature, it was necessary to have to create a three dimensional effect, such as placing each eye, made of clay in each eye socket.
With this, I found that Dr. Einstein’s facial characteristics had lots of wrinkles—and I also found by Playing with the mud, having to quite often wet the Form –- finding that it was indeed an exhilarating, almost sensual feeling; this method helped in maintaining the degree of detail—and exactness in making meneuet adjustments, especially in working with the shape and flair of the nose and mouth.
This task was necessary to capture a three dimensional likeness, getting it just right. But, through my first attempt in creating the “reverse mold”, while using a Kiln, the clay was too thick and the form broke, in the baking process. –-I was devastated and was falling behind schedule; so, I rushed to repeat the steps in rendering another clay form. But it just wasn’t the same, as was usually the case, while thwarted in the act of creating.
So as things turned-out, Don Larson ended up grading me based on the original attempt—and of what he saw of the Project, of which I never completed. —I kept the plastered, cracked, unfired Bust in my closet for many years, but never resurrected the Project, in order to finish what I started. My heart wasn’t in it, after the Bust, went “bust”.
9.6. Amid the “nudes”
Once I was invited to a private Art session in order to sketch a nude Model. After all her name was Terri, and I felt that I at least could emulate my Dad’s Artistic Ability in College. With this, I recently found a couple of his Renderings of some nude Beauties, done with pastel colored pencils, made more than fifty years ago; but now in this off Campus Session, Art Students were asked to render a series of sketches. Terri, the voluptuous Model, posed demurely in front of us. Of course out of necessity, I needed to be closer than the rest—,—and was quite nervous and shy, because of being obviously very close to my subject.—I don’t know why I began to draw the Pubic hair, to start with, But after getting in the major landmarks on paper, discovering that the exhilaration of “being in the moment”, was tremendous. Now flustered, I never actually completed a single sketch.
However, Terri acting as the Subject, later clutching a cup of Coffee while on a break, had said that the only time she felt self-conscious, was when she put on her robe between Posing Sessions. Although I think this was a bit of BS; yet all-in-all, Terri was professional in every way, but I wonder why I had dreamed of her, every night for a long time after that.
Still I wasn’t done with naked bods by far. In fact, I was with them all summer long. My Sister Cathy asked me to help her in her Manikin business. We needed to make repairs, using a kind of resin-plastic cement, called Bondo. Cathy routinely secured orders from large Department Stores, like Macys and Weinstocks’, in order to refurbish their stock of Manikins. I was adept in feeling the textures, finding cracks in the plastic forms, as Cathy applied the Bondo gook, letting it cure overnight.
The next day I used a fine-grained sand paper to insure a seamless surface, sanding all parts to be repainted. After painting, using a matching skin-tone, Cathy added the necessary details, accentuating the face—and chose the type of hair to be used for the overall visual effect. Some of these Manikin articles were more challenging than others. In fact, it was eerie descending down the steep stairway, where the Manikins were stored in the basement of the Shop. This proved to be a strange setting, finding nude Women, with all the right curves, along with Men, complete with facial hair and hairy chests. They in their sanctum—all of them, seemingly gawking back at us.
Stepping down into this musty and sometimes dank Dungeon was like being in an old Frankenstein Movie. The cool air of the Basement was quite a sharp contrast. We were most appreciative in being out of the heat, at least part of the time; but I found that by enduring this grueling process and Sanding each part of each Body seemed to make the summer drag on. However , the job of hauling naked bodies in the back of a Pickup, while people in traffic rubber-necked –and then gave us eye-popping looks, as we delivered the finished product to the proper Clients—all this was good comic relief for me. During these moments, I was no doubt pondering my options, concerning my immediate future.
CHAPTER TEN
Guide Dogs
Patrick, “A Four-footed Friend”
Since I had returned to Modesto in 1982, after the BEP-debalkal, many of my Blind friends were receiving “Dog Guides” (generically speaking) which happens to be a Mobility alternative, than simply using the White Cane. Some people I knew that had a Dog were Partially Sighted. This meant I would also be eligible through a local School. And so This particular School I had chosen was known as Guide Dogs for the Blind Inc. and was located in San Rafael, about Seventy miles away. Having a Dog Guide was represented as a kind of status of sorts; based upon certain opinions from the Blind Community. I personally must have at the time, had been swayed toward projecting a positive image in this way. Therefore upon this general feeling,—I thought that my self-confidence was something that needed to be given some ongoing support, or bolstered in some form—and so a Dog Guide was just the thing that served the purpose.
In addition, it was a good thing that I had been cultivating public support, along with the others within the blind group. This was because I found a liaison through Manual Gonsalves, who held positions in both the Stanislaus Association of the Blind—and the Modesto 500 Lions. Manual, acting as a go-between, could propose the idea of me being worthy of having a Dog as a guide. Thus it was that the Lions Club President, Rod Wells along with John Zagarris—and Jerry Lovelady, were all sympathetic and interested in sponsoring Club efforts toward a project, of providing a Dog Guide to a local Blind, or Visually Impaired recipient. However, the caveat was that I should become a Lions Member myself. This meant going to meetings -–and then participating in Community activities.
Also as it had been the custom, the Proposal for sponsoring a dog was thereby considered, accepted—and then adopted as a Lions project. Since I was now a Lions Member the Club appropriated a total of $5000 toward the Dog-guide effort. Soon I was on my way to the School Campus, with Jerry Lovelady and Company; they were all kind enough to escort me to my next destined venture.
10.1. Dorm Life
I arrived at the Center on a Sunday. It was early Evening where I was introduced to the Staff, who addressed each of us by our Last name; and yet prefaced with the appropriate formal Mister or Misses. This formality was dropped after a few days as the Instructors got to know our individual personalities. At first, we were shown the location of each of our living quarters, as we trailed the wall of the Dorm area; getting a general sense of our new surroundings.
We Class Members eventually located the Lounge areas where we would gather each Morning Afternoon and Evening,finding the main doors, for the main purpose for relieving our Dogs. This would turn out to be a monotonous but necessary routine for the Dog’s benefit. It helped to instill a pattern of mutual reliance for developing a working relationship on a variety of levels; among our respective Guides and of ourselves. Thus was the overall pattern that had been setfourth, acclimating us toward a regimented routeen throughout the course of the Training activity —as this process continued over the next twenty-eight days.
During our stay in the Dorm, the Instructors rotated the Night Duty, while one of them would remained with the Students in order to be available when necessary. Chris Heddama our Main Classroom Instructor was always pleasant. We could sense her friendly smile through her cheerful voice. She seemed to be present over the entire time while we were in Training. The other Training Staff members were Don Frisk, the Lead-Trainer, who was like a friendly Forest Ranger, knowing all the right Trails; who could tell funny stories just as if we were all gathered around the proverbial campfire. Also, we found that Don Frisk relished Limericks; and so at the end of the Training cycle all of the Students—in a prankish way had awarded Don with a Graduating Class gift—a book of off-colored Limericks.
Then there was Michael DelRoss, who was like a large gentle Bear, with a deep but soft reassuring voice. Finally, there were Peter O’Ryiley and Terry Barrett, who were involved with the “Retrain” group. Those who were in these particular Classes were coming back for another Dog after the retirement of their previous Guide. These veterans proudly called themselves retreads”.
However for the so called “newbies”, we Student Trainees would have to wait a long three and a half days before receiving our properly matched Guide dog. And all of this would had been clearly based upon information about ourselves from interviews, prior to coming to the Campus. Also The Training Staff would have the ability to match and monitor our current activities, including our general attitude over the first days, leading to the big moment. So all these things were considered as part of the magic formula for choosing the right dog for the right person. Moreover, this process was painstakingly developed over many Years of constant refinement.
And yet among my new acquaintances, I was busy settling in for the month-long stay. First, I spent the early evening greeting the other Students and Staff members. Just After unpacking our belongings. Then we enjoyed our first meal together. And also visited with everyone that would figure into that amazing partnering, which would take place in the near future.
Therefore the anticipation was nearly palpable with the excitement feeding off of one another. And then after the hardy meal from Mrs. Price’s Kitchen, I had the pleasure of getting to know my Dorm Room mate. We must have chatted through most of that evening; tmuch too keyed-up to think about hitting the “snore shelf.” Thus stirring restlessly through the first Night and waiting for the early call in the Morning, in order to begin the first Training Sessions. These Long Days would prove to be grueling, as we Students learned every conceivable aspect associated with Dog and Human relationships.
Part of the daily routine began with The Six O’clock Morning knock on the door—which started things off as we Showered and dressed. Then we made our way down the long corridor to the Dining area, for a hefty Breakfast, one of the three meals provided each day; nourishing our soon to be busy—taxed-to-the-max minds, and foot-sore bodies. Afterword all of the Trainees assembled in the assigned Lounge area. Each Lounge had couches aligning the parameter. That included an exit to a patio for Morning and Evening Dog Grooming sessions. This involved performing regular obedience Training routines, with our Dogs; that would set the tone for the day, for developing that all-important relationship.
10.2. The Juno Routine
Our first Lecture Session was an Overview of what would be expected of us—and included the schedule and pattern we would establish with our Guide. We also learned about the general nature of the Canine family—and rules of the Pack order, including the animal instincts along with individual Dog-Breed personalities. We guide-work Students, needed to understand all these things, in order to communicate properly and effectively with our new Dog.
In the afternoon, we were issued the Harness and Leash, learning how to attach them to our Guide. Also, we Students started to practice the special Obedience ritual as the Instructor played the part of the Guide dog, who was called Juno. This so called Juno routine was a way of becoming more familiar with the process of developing a series of specific commands, used in controlling, or maintaining the Dog’s focus, on none other than our self. The process was presented with good humor, but the intent was an important concept to grasp.
To begin with, the command sequence was a combination of hand gestures—and vocal commands that depended upon exact timing and execution, but most of all required consistency. These are generally grouped into two types, that involve Control and Guide work Commands. For instants, we Students could Control the Dog with Commands such as; ”Sit”, ”Stay”, ”Come”—and ”Heel”. The Guiding Commands used in Working the Dog when traveling, were directional Commands like; “left”, “Right,” ”Forward,” “Follow” and ”Hop Up”. “Follow” was used when you wanted the dog to follow another person in a specific manor, until given another Command. “Hop Up” was used when you wanted the Dog to move ahead at a faster pace. Essentially, the Dog guided simply by moving in a straight path, until directed to change its line of travel.
As an example, a “Moving–Wright” Command, like it sounds, could be employed while still in motion; by repeating this command along with the correct hand gesture; doing this, until the turn is actually completed. Basically, Guide work and Control Commands were reinforced with those little hand gestures. They could be used more discretely, as the Dog became accustomed to our personal demeanor. Further we had to learn foot-work actions, involving proper pacing;
for example, when making a left turn, we had to pivot our feet in a Military fashion) while at the same time gently pulling back on the harness, to cue the Dog in order to back-up, just enough to allow enough space to move our feet forward. We would at the same time signal with the appropriate hand gesture—and off we go, successfully changing our desired course of travel.
Then after getting the commands down sufficiently, at least well enough to use the substitute dog, our Instructor acting as Juno, would take each of us on short treks around the Campus sidewalks. Also, Mike DelRoss and Chris Heddama split the starting Class of about Sixteen Students into two groups of eight, in order to save time, thereby giving greater attention to each person; and also serving as a way to get to know each other better. In addition, the Instructors systematically switched groups in order to cross check one another’s technique, thereby determining our individual progress. Don Frisk, as Supervising Trainer, was in charge of overseeing the entire string of Student and “Dog Units”.
From time to time we met with our specifically assigned Instructor, to get an idea of what we needed to correct; that was in order to direct our particular efforts involving control problems, and problems associated with the “bonding process”, and the like. Finally, it was time to meet our Dogs who would be our special friend—and constant companion throughout its life, which was normally a working life of about ten years.
So to begin the process of greeting our Guides for the first time, The Students gathered in the main Training Lounge. The Main Instructor would in Alphabetical order, read off our First and Last name, along with the highly anticipated name of our own Dog; including the sex, Breed and Dog’s height and weight. Back at home, in our Pre evaluation Interview we were asked for our preference of which kind of Dog we wanted. It could in those years be either a Black or Yellow Labrador retriever, or a Golden Retriever, or my favorite, a German Sheppard. So when the actual time came, my heart pounded –and a great drum roll was then building in my brain, as my name was called by Chris Heddama, our lead Instructor, saying; ”a male German Sheppard named Patrick”. Upon hearing those words, I yelled-out a hardy “yes”! In-turn, we were excused to our rooms to await the union between ourselves and the Dog we had longed for.
10.3—“Hay Guy, You got four
on the Floor, With Lots of Overdrive!”
Now, finding myself alone in my room, I waited pensively with the Harness over my shoulder, with Leash in-hand; I would soon be called to the Trainers’ Office where the Trainer Assistant would bring in the anxious Dog. Then, seated in the Office I suddenly heard the clicking patter of four feet on the linoleum floor, and the sound of nervous panting, as Patrick entered the room. Off-leash, he made wide circles, like a Lion in a cage. We let him familiarize himself with his surroundings. Then as Patrick made his third round, the nervous dog was busily—yet curiously sniffing me over. Mike DelRoss asked me to attach the Leash to his collar, just as I was shown in Class—making sure to clasp the Leash to the “live ring”. At long last, I got him, he was mine. That is if I fulfilled the bargain of caring and providing for his daily needs. In doing so, Patrick would do his part—guiding me safely mile after mile.
Chris Heddama said that Patrick was like “an “aircraft carrier, long and Gray, sweeping by”. She also said that he had « a speckled tan colored, half-star pattern on his Back, between his shoulders and that he had a saddle back design of black and grays; blending into Silver, with tan on his belly side. Patrick was nearly the maximum height and weight for Training as a Guide. Mike DelRoss, then made a memorable remark, saying—”Hay guy, you got four on the floor, with lots of overdrive”. He also told me that I needed to have a firm and steady hand, until Patrick learned the pace that I would be most comfortable with, as Patrick did his exceptional work. . Then with an exaggerated “heel” command, I took Patrick to my room, where my Roommate with his sleek and beautiful Black Labrador, named Jedi, greeted us.
We were both captivated with each of our new “four footed friends”. Just like the two of us, The rest of the Students all spent the remaining time before Dinner, visiting one another while leaving their own dog on “tie down”; and then congratulating each other’s good fortune for getting the Dog that each wanted. But these visits were very brief; we didn’t want to leave our own Dog too long, as our new doggie friend needed to become accustomed to the strange surroundings of the Dorm area. Also we Students wanted to get in some necessary bonding time with our own guide.
YetStill in our rooms just as it would become each day) we waited for the food cart delivery for our Dog’s daily meal. This was at about Four O’clock, which was an hour or so before our own Dinner bell rang; we found this time was deliberately set aside, just before our Evening meal (after our Training Workout had been completed) so there would be enough time to Water and relieve our new Canine friend. And again throughout the entire Training period, we found that each morning and evening, we would need to gather together and exiting through the all-important Lounge, nearest to the Relieving Area. This area was a large open place containing a circular driveway, conveniently set aside for this purpose.
Further, the routine of relieving our dogs involved walking out to the curbside. Each dog and Student unit—in their tern approached the curb, then moved to the designated spot. After this we removed the harness and extended the leash to its longest length configuration, allowing the Dog greater movement. The dog could move freely—and sniff about, looking for some interesting smells that would induce the urge to defecate or urinate, hopefully both.
Also we Trainees wanted to keep track of the number of times the Dog went “pottie’—in terms of the overall day’s activities. This was something like a Parent would do, while potty-training their little child. It was in either the morning or evening, while in the “relieving circle”, each Student sometimes had to coax the dog, by gently talking and praising our lovely pooch, as he or she “did its business.’ We even made-up little ditties. Our favorite was a parodied variation from the song, “Please Release Me”. Instead of the word “Release—”we sang the word “relieve”—and included the words—”I can’t hold it anymore”. However, sometimes the Students and Instructors had to keep the dogs from cavorting too much together. This wasn’t meant to be social time, for we were all on a heavy schedule. We needed to keep up with the pace between our planned Lectures and our daily workouts with our Guides.
But just the same,—all the Student Trainees had enough time to interact with their Dog, in a designated form of “playtime”. With this each Student could order, “Authorized Toys”, such as a heavy-duty rubber ball—and a rubber pull-toy—or a rubber ring. Additionally, we could play outside in a newly built Paddock area, or on a small patio joining each of the Rooms. This also could be used as an emergency relieving area. Then toward late Evening While in our rooms, we tied-down our dogs by using a small ring screwed in the wall. We did this by connecting an S-hook cable to the dog’s live-ring on the collar. The wall connection was near our individual beds. Also there was a white fluffy rug for the Dog to rest on just within arm’s length, to give reassuring pats in the Night.
Yet I fondly remember waking up on that first special day with my dog, realizing that it would be just one of many –filled with learning all of these vital Guide work lessens. it was therefore quite important, of cores to assess the real working relationship in developing that unique working pace, which would become most adequate for our particular needs.
Along With the other Trainees, we Novice Students gradually ventured out toward more dynamic and complicated environments as our skill with the dog increased. Still I did as Mike said—specifically as he indicated by saying that I needed to constantly tone Patrick’s pace down, as my Guide was eager to prove to me that he was fully capable, performing just as advertised.
10.4. The Awful Egg
The variety of environments we worked in were done with teams of two, known as tandems, these were made up of two Units. A Unit consisted of a working Guide—and the individual Student using .their own Dog. They would both work in this tandem manner; thereby moving-out in an alternating pattern. And so each Pair would move forward according to the design of the particular exercise.
In this way a Tandem Pair would cautiously progress forward, at first one block at a time, noting the surface texture—then noting the Dog’s subtle adjustments. So each Student and Guide, when needed would sidestep or slow-down, or move a bit faster, to avoid any unforeseen obstacle. Further, it was the case that All guide dog Students became sensitive to the slight variation in the Harness’s movements, as the Dog progressed just a half-step ahead of each of our own footsteps. However when it was still early-on in our Training, at each stop and cued by our Instructor, we were asked to acknowledge our dog’s good work, by profusely praising our four-footed friend.
In Addition to these things the instructors told us to hold our harness handle lightly, keeping our arm, wrist and hand, relaxed as we moved freely—much faster than that of using a White Cane. Over time, we reinforced those directional sound cues, just as we had learned in those basic Mobility lessons when using a Cane, years earlier.
Then finally it was time for us to progress toward more elaborate routs—going out alone. We would practice a skill known as “freelancing”. That was from a new Lounge located in the Downtown San Rafael area; but for longer excursions, we all traveled in an odd-shaped Bus, known as “the egg”. Each tandem team worked residential settings which included sidewalk less traverses; thereby systematically learning how to negotiate parked vehicles, including obstacles that might block our path, such as in the case with construction sites in surrounding areas. . In addition, with the buses we traveled into San Francisco, working a variety of challenging settings. These new challenges ranged from the Fishermen’s Wharf, involving Chinatown; and in particular (for the dogs benefit) we exposed them to the tantalizing street-side smells) purposely used to distract our Dogs. We even traversed the quiet wooded paths of Golden Gate Park, where our Canine friends were excited in the more natural environment. Then, it was off to the sophisticated metropolitan Plazas of the Business districts in the City.
Also, when located at the Civic Center, we Students learned the proper way to work flights of stairs, negotiating revolving doors, Elevators and Escalators. For example at the local Mall in San Rafael, we got extra work refining our technique. The Escalators were optional for those persons that were prone to encounter these barriers in their own home environment.
Additionally, we Trainees even had on several occasions, had to do workouts at night, around San Rafael, to acclimate the Dog to the experience of dealing with objects, that might appear different in the dark. Patrick, for example had a horrific time facing the awful and scary shadow of the “egg”. He would not budge as he approached the Monster, after having to deal with a weird-looking bush on the night rout that we had just completed.
The keyed-up Dog stubbornly, held his ground and did not answer to commands, until Peter O’ Riley assisted with a firm “leash correction”, showing a method used only in extremis. The technique involved moving the chain-lank collar a bit higher on the Neck, near the Ears, and then with a single quick action, a two handed jerk would snap the Dog back into reality.
So after that—Patrick ran up the steps of the bus and cowered under the seats. This strong leash correction was a way of breaking the bond built between the Trainer and Dog, causing him to gravitate toward a new loyalty, namely myself. Patrick for several days avoided Mr. O’ Riley’s strong medicine; but for now, I had a heck of a time getting him out from under the seat. This, in order to learn the discipline of staying in the sitting position as the bus was moving. That exercise was another lesson, designed to manage a situation while on crowded buses in our home area.
Furthermore, throughout most of the Training, the Instructors applied a variety of Dog distractions. This was an ideal opportunity to test our ability while controlling our Guide, as we ventured through unforeseen and for the Dog, tempting situations. So food was the most common item used. However, animal distractions proved to be quite interesting. With this, we Student and Trainer conspired to set the Dog up, in order to focus them toward a particular Task—testing their basic obedience responses, to understand our particular at-home, or Family situational needs.
Yet there was another situational exercise, designed for testing the Dog’s ability for responding to intelligently disobeying a command—moving forward, when the result would prove to be disastrous. That particular situation would occur in a miscue, while in traffic. So the Trainers would occasionally surprise us with a “traffic check”. This was done by setting up a particular instance, which would allow a vehicle with an Instructor driving, would suddenly move into a direct path into both of us, screeching their tires and barely touching the Dog with the bumper of the vehicle. This would cause the dog to develop a healthy respect for street traffic. That also tested our reaction and insured our mutual safety.
Patrick received high marks in his Guide Work abilities, but needed work avoiding Animal distractions, primarily with Cats. As an example, he tried to lunge for the little critters as they were lying casually under cars, or as they would suddenly appear at the next corner crossing.
In addition to this, Patrick had some problems in relinquishing the lead, while working in tandem guide work activities. So I personally needed to curb his desire to be always the Top Dog. But as was the usual course, the stress and exhaustion of the past Month (which was precisely built based upon the design of the Training) to render-fourth a tested and galvanized match; all of this had strained the limits of both Dog and Blind or Visually Impaired trainee. Yet this finally had drawn to its natural conclusion.
Such as it was, while becoming a well bonded Class; and by now had built some fond memories that We Classmates could cherish; though victoriously we would yet graduate. Then afterword, returning to our specific destinations—back to our familiar surroundings—and of course with a life companion. Even more importantly along with ourselves and our dog as it were, could well represent to the Public a unique Mobility aide. These dogs were literally harnessed to our particular needs. Moreover, we Grads’ were certainly proud—and applauding one another. Each of us confidently walking across the Stage, officially receiving our Guide—and extolling the valued efforts of the Guide Dogs Staff.
Then as I Heard the loud applause, (buried Deep in the crowd) I could still pick out my Mom, Claudia and Ron Guider, Claudia’s Husband; also along with them was Rod Wells from the 500 Lions Club. They all were cheering me on as I walked across the Stage, receiving my new Guide at the beautiful outdoor Ceremony. Finally afterword, we were heading home to our friends—and yet possessing a sense of deep accomplishment. I would be back with my family—and whatever was awaiting our future. Patrick and I would endur yet another transition. Although This time witnessing the dog’s final adjustment to new surroundings —and of course a new life together.
10.5. Patrick’s Grand Entrants
As soon as we arrived at home, pulling into the driveway and then as I attempted to exit the car, I missed the clip on Patrick’s live-ring—and He bolted from the car; running across the street into the School yard—and beyond.—I couldn’t keep up with him as he stayed ahead of me, not wanting to be caught. Patrick was only interested in being free to explore his new territory. He returned about fifteen minutes later, after crossing several streets. –-I was of course afraid that he would not pay any attention to on-coming traffic, as these dogs were prone to being, hit by vehicles, because the Dog assumes that the cars will stop, just as if they were crossing at a crosswalk. The dog didn’t exactly distinguish between a corner—and crossing in the middle of a block—and its focus was not exactly on carefully sequenced and regimented steps. So Patrick was in freeform mode,—and the rules be dammed.
After a short time, the errant dog returned in fine form but he was in trouble for disobeying, by running away. Yet I discovered that I over did it on the leash correction and undoubtedly executing it, incorrectly –-then getting too upset. A harsh “No”! Would have been better; but I was not yet wise in the ways of being in control of the situation. I knew only that I wasn’t executing leash corrections properly—and also not always maintaining the daily obedience ritual, to show who was really in control. —I needed to be consistent and ever vigilant, insuring that Patrick didn’t take any advantage, or wasn’t at liberty to do whatever he darn well wanted.
By this time I was suffering Neck and Shoulder problems, due to the strain of learning to work the Dog; andnot-yet learning to relax my left arm, in such a manner to cushion the shock of Patrick suddenly lunging after a Cat, or such thing as that. A good example of this was upon entering the house for the first time. It was just after the incident of him running away. At one point subconsciously—my Arm became somewhat relaxed when taking the Dog through the front door of the house. While holding the harness I didn’t realize that my thumb was in the wrong position and hanging on to the leash too lightly. Then Patrick suddenly leaped after a Cat, who was just outside in the backyard.
The Dog unknowingly plunged into the closed clear-looking sliding glass door, knocking Vicki’s Husband’s Mother Merion down in the process. Patrick was stunned for a moment—and my poor thumb was wrenched out of joint. The Cat was gone in a flash. Also as things were Miriam was in frail health—and took some time recuperating from the fall. She was suffering from Hemophilia, which made the situation more difficult than usual. Miriam was surprised and upset, as were all of the rest of us. Patrick’s grand entrance was a big flop—and I assumed that time would take care of the control issues; but I was wrong. I soon discovered that I was overwhelmed with his size, strength and stubbornness—and would need to develop a stronger will than he, in order to win his total respect.
10.6. Patters and the “Swainkie Frankie”
A puzzling event occurred while at the SAB office, that was a bit confusing regarding Patrick’s bonding process with me.—I had just purchased lunch from the Bowling Alley, buying my favorite meal a ”Swainkey-frankie”; a large Hot Dog with all the trimmings, including fries. While walking into the Office to answer the Phone I casually laid my meal down in a nearby chair. With my back turned, Patrick assumed the food was meant for him. After all, we were buddies, right? To my surprise, He quickly wolfed down the food and I made it very clear that “God was angry”, and stealing was a Sin.
Patrick’s repentance came in the form of an interesting situation, also concerning food. “Stix” Pilgrim, the Bowling Statistician had the door to his room open, where he had a Styrofoam ice chest containing some Porterhouse Steaks on the thaw. Patrick, smelling the raw fresh meat with its tantalizing orders, were wafting down the hall. So the dog quietly wandered away—and then matter-of-factly, took one of the individually wrapped thick and juicy, scrumptious delights—and promptly dropped it in front of me. Patrick, Sitting pretty, with his tongue hanging and drooling, imploring that I share his treasure with him; or perhaps, he was simply asking permission if he could devour it. At any rate, the dog was including me in his thought process and that was a good sign that we were becoming a real team.
Basically, Patrick had an infectious personality so was a favorite among the local Blind Community. Debbie Hansen coined the nick-name “Patters”, and it stuck. His regular acquaintances loved the name. He was the consummate charmer; but don’t throw a Cat in the mix, otherwise, it was “Katie bar-the-door”—and the chase was on.
At about this time I soon found a new friend who was involved in the S A B efforts. This kind woman was a Guide Dog user, named Cathleen. Her Dog was named Riesa—and was evidently much too sensitive or timid; but Cathleen was an experienced Guide dog handler, who was trying to encourage and nurture Riesa along. Although it wasn’t easy as the skittish little yellow Lab, a real ”Cutie”, seemed to passed the Guide Work criteria -on looks alone. Riesa would cower while crossing streets—and when negotiating flights of stairs, had actually drove Kathleen to tears. It proved to be an opposite kind of problem that I was having with my own Guide; but Cathleen through her long experience with working Dogs would become helpful in my own difficulties, when anticipating Patrick’s actions and responses to various situational settings.
However, there were a few exceptions to these incidences that occurred involving dog behaviors, which are worth mentioning, that really highlights these points; and one in which I was supposed to watch Riesa for a couple of hours, while Cathleen ran some errands. So just before Cathleen left, she had made a few dozen yummy Russian tea cookies, made with loads of real butter, coated with powdered sugar. However in a single moment my attention was drawn away, having to focus on my own dog. In that instant, Riesa devoured the buttery cookies, which meant, that I was in deep trouble with Cathleen. When she returned, our real problems had just begun. Within an hour, it was apparent that Riesa wasn’t feeling very well. The Dog ended up suffering a severe bout of Diarrhea. Anyone who had ever owned a dog, probably knows what a chore it is to have to cleanup, after an ugly smelly mess of this type. Just try to do this while not being able to see.
Another memorable situation occurred when Cathleen and I planned to visit her Neighbors next door. It was necessary to leave Patters tied to the leg of Cathleen’s Dining room Set. We were gone for just about an hour or so. By then, I was worried about Patrick. Still I was horrified to discover when checking on him, that he had completely destroyed the table and chairs in the dining area, as he tried to find his master. So I should have known that Patrick’s difficulties with separation anxiety would be problematical—that we shouldn’t have left him that long. Thus In the aftermath I helped Cathleen with replacing the Dining set. But this proved to be an expensive lesson, in understanding the vicissitudes of learning to anticipate dog behavior and their specific issues.
10.7. “Spooky’s Next Stiff Christmas”
Then I remember a particular time when having great fun while visiting Steve Gokey’s home. We were swimming in the family pool in the back yard. Steve’s wife Renee had an Elderly Cat named Spooky, who was sleeping just inside the doorway, with Patrick off leash near the pool area. Steve unaware of Patrick’s exact location, had entered through the screen door. But Steve accidentally left it ajar. The Dog had stealth fully snuck in, where Spooky was, and evidently, had killed the poor Cat by ringing its Neck. The Cat didn’t make a sound—and Renee screamed with horror when she happened to walk into the Bedroom where the Cat laid dead.
Of course Renee was in shock—and we were all amazed in the audacity—over Patrick’s cunning, even though aware that this was part of this kind of dog’s nature; but, try to explain this to a bereaved family. Although they were actually planning to have the Cat euthanized within a few days of the unfortunate incident. Yet for the next few years—Steve in good humor at each of the Bowler’s, Christmas Parties in the Lounge, would present a Toast in the memory of the poor pussy cat. We would all raise a tall glass brimming, with Christmas cheer, a Toast in Steve’s words—“to Spoockies next stiff Christmas”.
10.8. That Beckoning Call
Not long after the Cat incident, I moved back into the Cedar wood Apartments. But over the intervening time, the Complex fell into bad management, eventually attracting horrid company, namely scores of troublesome Cockroaches. These bugs evidently were brought in by the ill habits of dropouts and druggies, corrupting the area that occupied the Apartment Units. These kids were a noisy bunch.
Several abatement efforts would not curb the problem with the roaches. Since I was in rolled with the Federal Government’s Section 8 plan for low income persons, it was there for deemed necessary for me to be moved out of the once great location; which was of course, near the Junior College—and the Old Mill Cafe! So it was an exasperating and unhealthy situation, living with those creepy bugs; not only for me but for Patters as well.
As it was, Patrick had developed skin Allergies, requiring strong doses of Prednisone and other antibiotics, but his condition was only getting worse over time. These ugly irritations were becoming a problem with his Guide work. This caused social issues at MJC—and even at the Blind Association Office. Patrick had open sores and was miserable and I couldn’t simply leave him alone at the Apartment. So I had no alternative, but to make the difficult choice to have the Guide Dog School, take Patrick back for observation.
I can still recall “Patter’s” excitement as the Guide Dog Field Rep appeared, and as patters turned back, beckoning me to follow. Though At the time, I didn’t think that neither the Cockroaches, nor the toxic chemicals were the actual cause for the allergies. However, looking back, one begins to wonder; Especially After a week or so, when the call came in, that Patrick had to be retired. So In that final moment, while waiting at the SAB Office for the Field Rep to pick him up, I didn’t know that would be the last time I would ever see Patters.
Yet still in that final scene, as in a sad Movie, Patrick turned lingering a bit; as Part of me wanted to follow that beckoning call. It was a sad state of affairs, but I felt it was out of my hands. It had been only a run of just over seven years—and then the bond was suddenly broken. My four-footed friend was gone! Then I Was eventually told that Patrick would become a “career change” dog, living in Roseburg Oregon, where he was originally raised, recovered and happy. “Ol’e” Patters—living out the rest of his days as a carefree good-ol dog; and for me, regarding Patrick’s wellbeing, that’s what was important.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Advocacy
(1985 to 1992)
In the latter part of 1985, I was involved with Sally Shepherd’s Vocational Skills Program for Disabled persons, at MJC. Sally was employed through the College Disability Services Program—and was passionate and knowledgeable. While In her Class, the cadre of Disabled Students honed practicable skills for Vocational skill development and planning, including the basic theory behind designing presentable Résumés—and writing cover letters. We used the necessary—yet creative interview strategies, for nailing-down that all important job.
However the main thing Sally emphasized was to draw upon the positive personal skill attributes, involving qualities, such as punctuality, dependability and a strong desire to succeed in the real-working world; but It was apparent that Many of the Students didn’t have much to show, based on the fact of not having a strong work history. So specific tasks were defined based on the total aspect of one’s life’s experiences, rather than measuring these skills as actual accomplishments on duty, which would usually be in a particular work scenario. With this I fared better than most of the others, based upon the amount of my overall work experience, gathered over the past few years.
In such a Class as this, we so called “Special Needs Students” were also enrolled in Mona Zoggie’s High Tech Program, offered by Disability Services. Which was to provide A T, or Access Technology Training. It of course was necessary to be competitive with the non-disabled population; and so doing this while vying for various vocational pursuits. As these things occurred, these High-Tec and Vocational planning disciplines –had in effect merged over time. Therefore we were able to put this theoretical Model into practice.
Moreover, we College Students along with assistance from the Staff, did this by not only designing our individual Résumés, including writing cover letters. So we acquired valuable experience as we repeatedly performed mock interviews, while analyzing each other’s techniques in the process. Then On the “Hi-Tech end of the equation, we Students got good practice with keyboarding skills, as each of us honed the techniques necessary for learning how to master these hardware and software accessibility elements. Additionally, we became even more cognizant of the actions and strategies involved. Also as these things would invariably shift and evolve just as the growing technology dictated. Because of this, the Disability Students along with those Agencies involved in the planning as well as service delivery, including training activities; they were giving us all a much greater—and much needed foot-hold on this rapidly changing technical field, including its associated “Disability issues.
Meanwhile, the Department of Rehabilitation had in turn, scheduled Training Seminars for this purpose. One of these was the” C-Tech, Computer Training and Evaluation Seminar. It was hosted at Enchanted Hills, previously alluded to in an earlier chapter. But, over this time we became acquainted with highly respected Rehab Counselors including Jerry Koonz—and from B.E.P, Marvin Prevost and Henry Negretti. And there was even from High School my friend Earl Quigley. Just like me, Earl was a Student Observer, giving valuable Consumer input or at best—some end-user comments.
Participating in this exercise was a delightful week in a camp-like atmosphere; thus taking in fresh air, playing around in the natural setting—and of course, sucking-up as much of the technical minutia we could endure. Our Rehab Hosts serving as Instructors worked diligently as a Team, guiding us through the rigors of disassembling some of the Computer components. In order to show us how to insert into various “expansion slots’, additional Memory Cards, which included the necessary “firm-ware” that was needed to equip a Computer. This was important, in order to adapt them for our particular needs. It’s a far cry from what is now known as a “plug and play” software approach, now employed—and is also much easier to manage for those of us who are visually impaired.
11.1. The Coalition
All that kind of technical exposure, when networking with others had provided me over the years some valuable contacts in the Rehab and Academic fields. For example, I had the opportunity to act as a liaison on several occasions, as a California Council Convention Chapter Delegate, for our Blind Association, with Manual Gonsalves once again leading the way. His close friend John Whittaker, who was then an Associate from the Coalition Center for the Disabled -–known as the C.C.D.I (a well-known and respected ad hoc Agency, of local Disabled Citizens). This particular group was devoted to establishing an Independent Living Center; which would serve the surrounding County area. Mr. Whittaker, who mainly acted as a driver, still played a vital role that enabled us to become more productive, by shuttling Manual and me between meetings, concerning the ongoing organized Blind and Disability movement efforts.
It should be well noted that these collective activities would prove fruitful in the coming years—and I would be on the ground floor as it were ultimately providing me with a paid position as a “Peer Counselor Coordinator; but before all this could happen, much hard work would have to be done. We C.C.D.I Committee Members would routinely meet with the City’s Mayor Advisory Committee for Disability Services. Along with our Advocacy group, we were aided by the Stanislaus County Coordinator of Special Educational Services, Del Butler, who would become over the years, a fellow advocate in dealing with the County Service bureaucracy. My part, in doing the needed “grunt-work would involve serving as a member of the ad-hoc committee, along with the C.C.D.I Core Group. In time this active group who ultimately made up the inaugural Board of Directors; then when they were installed I formally came on the Board with Manual Gonsalves.
I also was happy to see our Friend Bob Williams from the MJC Disability Services Department, who could provide his special insight while a Board Representative. As it turned out, I spent two years serving with the Board, before I actually was selected as part of the original nucleus of the beginning Staff, chosen to operate the new Center. The new Agency was known at first, as simply, Modesto Independent Living Center, but was later changed to DRAIL—meaning; Disability Resource Agency for Independent Living. This was done in order to define more clearly the Centers’ purpose and function, for the larger “catchments” service area.
It happened that my particular duties on the ILC Board of Directors involved researching various types of “Independent Living, Core Services”. These were namely; Independent Living Planning, Housing Services—and Direct Advocacy –and also including Peer-Counseling,etc; but , the main goal here was to define specific needs tailored to the unique requirements, of each of the established twenty-six Independent Living Centers, making up the block of California’s, I.L Centers. These studies done by the Local DRAIL Board of Directors dealt with such things as examining the geography lay of the land, Community resources, population demographics and Transportation challenges. The surveys would document the differences as well as the similarities, to define our local capabilities and particular needs. That of course was designed to build upon the basic rationale to determine the suitability as a Consumer base for such services.
Further, the Department of Rehabilitation was charged with guiding us through a process known as Accreditation, giving us legitimacy within the State, as our Organization would have to compete for funding. Our group had to form a special Grant Writing Committee, thereby enlisting a working cadre of knowledgeable persons, including respected stalwarts of the local Disability community. They could all help in hammering out written proposals to garner such funds. The Overall Plan was to enable the Center to serve a five County area, but this would eventually grow to cover six Counties, to reduce the State’s Apportionment costs.
Some of these key people involved with the evolution of these worthy goals and aspirations, who had finally brought them to fruition, were people like John Keneilly, Madelyn Ameral—and Dennis Stoops. John and Dennis in the past, each at different times worked with my Parents, developing their Architectural Drafting skills, before they landed jobs with the City and County Planning Commission. Along with these two guys, Madelyn Amerol, became a formidable force, which eventually directed efforts toward the City Council, honoring John Keneilley’s strong efforts, chiefly involved in breaking down the citywide architectural barriers. Incidentally, the ramp-way leading to the main entry to the then new Vintage Fair Mall, was aptly named—“The Keneelley Way”.
It was during my time with DRAIL, when serving as a Peer Counselor Coordinator—finding that this was a very fulfilling experience; but at first that was a real struggle, because of not having proper accessible equipment. In fact, My Boss, the Center Director Kent Mickelson, had to twist arm to get Rehab to shell-out funds for a color CCTV—so I could read the considerable amount of study material, which was quite necessary in order to do the research; all this was important work to set-up the Training Curriculum.
11.2. “The Breaking Barriers Show”
I worked closely with the Independent Living Counselors, mainly with the lead Counselor, Fred Dickenson, who was in many ways a good friend and mentor. The Peer Counseling Position was sponsored by the United Way of Stanislaus County—and was negotiated as a two-year project. Its renew-ability was largely based upon the effectiveness of the program. We were breaking new ground in the public-eye; showing what dedicated Disabled individuals could actually do, when performing these important services.
One P.R feature that the Independent Living Center was particularly proud of, happen to be Fred Dickenson’s, local TV weekly production; called “The Breaking Barriers Show”. The Weekly Cable Program spotlighted certain efforts, by particular disabled individuals who were actively engaged in special programs—and including annual functions from the surrounding area, such as promoting Grass root projects to improve Community advocacy, for those with so called, “special needs”. Occasionally I would appear with others on the Show, including my friend Debbie Hansen; of course, we would be acting within the scope of our various capacities, discussing a variety of topics. We further would plug the Peer Counseling Program—and the Stanislaus Association of the Blind, including the Blind Bowlers.
11.3. Sweetman Systems
Over this period I learned how to write a proposal for achieving “self-support, or, simply called a P.A.S.S Plan. With the help of Fred Dickenson, I submitted the “PassPlan” to Rehab, providing me with an accessible computer system, to use at home and at work. Through this process I was able to contact my old friend Bob Sweetman, who was by now, self-employed in the Accessible Computing business. He lives in Arleta—in southern California.
Bob and his Wife Sue, came-up to Modesto and stayed in the area for the weekend—to set-up the entire Computer system. Also they each provided me with the initial Training Services. So it was especially great to see my long-time friends on a social basis, after the work was completed. Further, I was of course extremely excited to have JFW—meaning “Job Access with Speech”, or simply called “Jaws” for Windows, as the Screen-Reader was named. This included the Speech Synthesizer, DECtalk, which made my machine come alive. So after the visit I began the long process of becoming familiar with my own Windows based system; as opposed to all the ones at the High Tec Center at the College, they were each set-up differently. Eventually the I.L.C—ware I had been working had as well, adapted their equipment to become Accessible PC Systems.
11.4. “The Digital Lifestyle”
(2001 to present)
Becoming Computer savvy as a blind person, was indeed an important step toward greater self-sufficiency. This is primarily due to the fact that I along with my blind compatriots, who by the way these days, are not getting any younger, which places us in a unique category, involving meeting particular independent living challenges. One person whose exemplary and innovative efforts relating to the creation of a so called “digital lifestyle for blind persons, is the founder of Serotek—and it’s “System Access Network; as the following Essay—of his expertly details…
An Open Letter to Independent Living
Adult Blind Professionals:
By Mike Calvo
Independent Living Adult Blind (ILAB) service organizations face a unique challenge as baby boomers, they become seniors—and many experience vision loss. The impact of a rapid loss of vision can be devastating. In very short order, a person loses every point of reference. They feel cut off, isolated, disoriented, and afraid.
A once, friendly world is suddenly an alien place with everything that was once familiar, now strange and threatening. We who are blind, know that with time, a person can find a new equilibrium—well oriented and secure. Millions of blind people live independently—and there is no inherent reason why a newly blind senior can’t recapture, an independent lifestyle; but it requires the help of caring—and skilled organizations and individuals to make that transition.
ILAB’s job is to be a lifeline, offering support in re-achieving independence—and helping newly blind seniors find a path to Orientation, Mobility and Safety, And including Home and personal management skills, such as; identifying money, cooking, cleaning, as well as labeling foods and medications and involving Employment skills, such as typing and computer use.
Quality of life skills; including; talking books, Braille, writing guides, Self-actuating skills; such as assertive communications, goal setting and coping with blindness. The duty of an ILAB organization, is to help individuals discover a way to find new reference points, reconnect to people, relearn basic living skills, and –in general, roll back the fear.
Accessible computers, the Internet, and a whole raft of digital devices and services can be important tools, for making that path smoother and with fewer obstacles.
Yet that is only true, however, if the tools themselves are not a challenge beyond the newly blind person’s ability. Fortunately, the baby boomers experiencing age-related vision loss are more computer savvy than seniors were just a few years ago. A majority has used computers in some fashion—either at work or at home, before experiencing vision loss, and while they are not computer geeks by any stretch of the imagination, neither are they completely intimidated.
The number of computer savvy individuals will continue to grow among the senior population, as each succeeding wave, is more attuned to the digital lifestyle, than the preceding group. When Serotek created the first accessible digital lifestyle products,
So back in 2001, we were focused on the needs of the newly blind, who were even less sophisticated than the baby boomers. We realized that accessible, meant more than simply reading a screen or a document. Accessible meant being usable by anyone, no matter how much or how little computer background they might have had.
We believed then and now that accessible, means accessible to anyone, anywhere. It is that belief, and how we put it into practice, that makes Serotek the perfect partner for ILAB services. Living Better Digitally: While it is intuitively obvious that digital technology is essential to vocational rehabilitation, it may not be so obvious that the computer, the Internet, and the wide variety of digital tools are even more important to independent living. Consider the challenges listed below:
Orientation – or where am I? Cell phone global positioning will become widely available within the next few months. That means a blind person can get step by step instructions on how to get from here to there, wherever they are on the planet.
Mobility – or how do I get where I need to go?
—Mobility is always an enormous challenge for the newly blind, but the accessible Internet can greatly reduce the need to travel. With access to the Internet, a person can shop from home, work from home, attend classes from home, and enjoy a wide range of entertainment without ever setting foot outside the door. That takes a lot of pressure off the mobility challenge—and makes it much easier to deal with the occasions, when staying home isn’t an option.
Safety – When you lose your sense of where you are“; the world is a frightening place”! Again,
The Internet allows a person to deal with challenges of being newly blind, while staying in the relative safety, of his or her own home, until he or she gains the confidence to become more mobile. Home and personal management – Shopping, banking, access to medical information, managing personal finances, accessing home maintenance services, recipes—and more, are all available via the Internet—and by using a computer. Employment – Work from home using voice over Internet protocol, via the computer; The computer and Internet, make it possible to work anywhere in the world and never leave your home.
Quality of life – Arts, entertainment, social interaction ; all are available via the broadband connection, including; talking books, described videos, infinite radio channels—and even more; with The ability to Connect to family by way of e-mail—and old and new friends via an ever growing variety of social networking sites.
Self-actuating skills; it is easier to be assertive online than in person. The truth is, our society is completely connected today, using the Internet, cell phones, and the growing Wi-Fi network. The majority of life experiences are available regardless of whether or not a person is sighted. The Internet, the computer, and the many other digital devices are great leveling tools. Across a digital connection, everyone is the same regardless of the quality of their vision, provided they have a fully accessible connection. Unfortunately however, accessibility has not been an easy thing in the past. The tools offered by traditional adaptive technology vendors have been expensive and complex. A person might require 30 or more hours of class room training to become competent, on a traditional screen reader—and even after 30 hours, not everyone succeeds.
License fees for accessibility software have been high—and bundled with a string of conditions that assure the vendor a steady revenue stream. While the tools are adequate for most vocational rehab applications; they often fall far short when being used to surf the Internet—and enjoy the wide variety of products, Information, services and entertainment available on the web. Many Web sites have been designed with little regard for screen reader requirements; thus totally making them inaccessible to traditional screen readers.
Serotek made the accessible user interface, its design priority. Our System Access product family has won accessibility awards from the MS Foundation—and the American Foundation for the Blind. Typically a user can be trained and fully functional, using System Access, with about two hours of instruction.
Many computer savvy users can function, with System Access, with no training, just relying on its extensive Help menu as necessary. We do recommend that users take advantage of training when it’s available. The more familiar the user is with the computer and the Internet, the easier it is for them to use System Access; because in general, System Access uses the same command structures they are used to, without layering on special “screen reader” commands.
Serotek has also made accessibility completely mobile. System Access Mobile can be loaded on a thumb drive and plugged into any computer, making it instantly accessible. If a computer is connected to the Internet. System Access to Go—SA to Go) is available at no charge, to be instantly downloaded—and used while the computer is connected to the Internet. “SA-To-Go” is made available to anyone, anytime at no cost through The AIR Foundation, which believes that “accessibility is a right.”
Reaching and Teaching:
One of the biggest challenges for ILAB organizations is simply reaching the newly blind seniors and accommodating the ever increasing numbers. Serotek is the only adaptive technology company that seems to have given any consideration, to the huge workload that these baby boomers represent—and the limited resources they typically receive. ILAB organizations have to deal with them.
Our particular solution, is successfully being used in state organizations and is called Remote Incident Manager (RIM). RIM is a fully-accessible distant learning and technical support tool, that lets the trainer or technician share the student’s computer desktop, over the Internet. The trainer can make technical adjustments if the student is having difficulty with his or her machine. The trainer can download software or call it up from the student’s machine—and work directly with the student on the application being trained, whatever it is.
This one-on-one training is very powerful—and students grasp much more quickly than they do in a classroom setting. Using the phone or Voice over Internet protocol. The trainer and student have a full hands-on learning experience—and neither needs to travel to make it happen. This saves precious travel time and cost—and multiplies the number of successful training sessions, a trainer can have per day.
Trainers and students both claim, that when using RIM, they are enjoying at least a three-to-one advantage, with one hour of RIM time, being worth at least three hours of class room time; RIM, can be used to train conventional screen readers, but when it’s used to train the System Access—accessibility anywhere tools—the time from start to full independent living, is shortened by an order of magnitude. The $1,000 annual license pays for itself several times over.
It’s All about Independence:
When a person loses his or her eyesight to macular degeneration, or any of the several age-related conditions, their world crashes. In fact, to be newly blind is to be alone and afraid. There is a huge gulf between how life was—and how it seems now—and independence seems like an unreachable goal. Fortunately, for many, there are ILAB organizations that are ready and willing to reach across that gulf—and bring the newly blind into a new dimension, of independent living.
The digital lifestyle is a big part of the transition—and Serotek Corporation has not only made the digital lifestyle accessible, it has delivered the tools to help trainers and students, bridge the gulf more quickly. So for us, the reward is that of the newly blind baby boomer’s independence. An independent blind person is a potential customer for other accessible digital lifestyle products and services—and that’s where we see our future. Independently living blind people bring their appetites for all the exciting digital lifestyle tools and toys, that their sighted peers enjoy—and Serotek intends to be the leader in making these products and services accessible. Losing one’s sight is life changing, but thanks to ILAB organizations and companies like Serotek, that support them, it need not be the end of the world. It can be the beginning of a whole new and rewarding, productive life.”
I simply couldn’t have captured these ideas any better by myself, by trying to put all of these thoughts in their proper perspective, than what Mr. Calvo has already done. If I had to Paraphrase these various points, outlined in the previous paragraphs, I would not have dealt with this topic adequately enough. That is, bringing to the present, the state of affairs of those of us who are either totally Blind or Partially Sighted. We indeed have come a long way with our technology, with our ability to remotely manage personal affairs, via the Computer. And now as
I now look back, especially when thinking that I sometimes had kind of a jaundice outlook, seeing myself as a skeptic—when I first really began to get my feet wet in the working world, by serving others in the area of Independent Living Services. Again, I ask myself, was I only doing paper work? And was this kind of service even being used in a meaningful and constructive way? I suppose it certainly all became worth the effort in the long run, because of understanding the issues, by learning a professional type of methods that translate into real-life problem solving. Perhaps, if it meant becoming in some form, a “type of Beurocrat. In doing so–- then all of that had made a real difference.
11.5. Nikolai
Newly hired by DRAIL in early December 1992; and yet by March 1993, I was on my way to go back to San Rafael for a new Guide Dog. In fact, I had been quite anxious in being given some time off from my job, in order to do the necessary three week Dog Training —in order to be ready for the work-a-day challenges ahead. So over this time Rehab was able to use this period to procure the Access equipment, so I could do the work at the ILC more efficiently. In addition, as part of the rationale for getting the dog, which became quite evident in a major way; in that it had enhanced my mobility needs, to travel more freely. Thus the three-week sabbatical proved to be in line with the overall planning for all those concerned. And so it was over the course of the Training with my new Guide, named Nikolai (which happened to be a sleek black and tan, Male German Sheppard) who happen to bond with me quite easily.
This was due for the most part—to Bob Wendler’s credit who was the main Trainer. He had helped me focus on the work-a-day environment of this type of an in-office scenario.
And as it turned out we all knew that wheelchair users would frequently burst through the front doors, at the I.L.C Center, thus making a clattering sound—startling the dog. So it was from the outset, which was entirely anticipated; that these things were all part of the customized Training.
This approach had further incorporated “Wheelchair sensitivity-awareness”. So we all hoped that Nikolai would be comfortable around those swerving wheel chairs. And indeed, this proved to be not a problem for my fascinating companion. It was then clear through the pre-evaluation interview process, thus recognizing that a particular temperament was extremely important to define, involving the overall public type corporate image; and all of these concerns were Paramount—to be sure. . So with Bob Wendler’s gentle approach and expertise, Nikolai had certainly lived up to the task, becoming all I could want in a guide, and was the best out of the three Guide Dogs I ever had the pleasure of using. His life with me would last nine working years, with a great number of Story’s I can tell. One of which follows.
11.6. Mirror, Mirror
A particularly funny episode concerning my travels with good-ole’ Nickolai, was during the time when I would be preoccupied with running a great many Aarons for the Blind Association. One day I was in a hurry and needed to find a restroom. Like many who get about on foot, as we travelers must plan for such contingencies. So it was always prudent to determine a certain pre-planned spot for which was to find “a potty place”. This one happened to be in the basement area, where the SAB offices were actually located. However, the catch was that this strategic place had involved taking a circuitous route—and when moving fast with my dog; I had inadvertently made a wrong turn. So I ended up facing a big mirror that was situated in front of a large counter. In my confusion and urgency, I started to address my own reflection in the mirror, thinking that this image was another person, one who could quickly tell me where the Men’s Restroom was.
At this point a Hair-Boutique Manager was off to the side, busting-up, laughing. She was trying to stifle her laughter concerning this guffaw; but I overheard, and was thoroughly embarrassed so she took great pity and directed me with haste, to the thankful relief of my distended bladder. That story maybe quite humorous but some other episodes with a Guide Dog are not at all funny.
11.7. Dog Guide Discrimination
Generally, Blind folks who use Dog Guides for mobility purposes, must inevitably deal with direct discrimination, having to do with the use of a working dog, while in the Public view. These issues are mainly based upon cultural differences. Though People from different walks of life are often faced with common social circumstances. So they fane ignorance to various local ordinances —and must therefore be more directly informed, of each of these Mobility Laws, concerning those who are simply, without eyesight.
This is rather unfortunate. People who are blind, often share many Common occurrences of discrimination of this type. That kind of discrimination is mostly silent in nature,—and is at times subtle. It is difficult to root out. Yet sometimes a visually impaired person—defending their particular situation may without meaning, can come across as being militant, or, branded as an over-sensitive “disabled person”. And I certainly wasn’t immune to any of this—and also personally experienced several occasions of discrimination, as a guide dog user.
11.8. Lost on a Highway
I quickly found that my New Dog Nikolai was especially sensitive toward the feelings of others. He would seem to choose a particular person for a given day, on which to pour out his affection. “Nick”, was certainly attentive toward my real needs—and knew my individual quirks and mannerisms, as you might expect—but there are some exceptions that emerge from time to time.
One dark evening while coming home from a friend’s house, which was only a few blocks from my Mom’s home where I had been staying for a while, it proved to be quite a challenge. The main avenue which was Coffee Road, in Modesto CA. leading to the turn on to East Rumble, where there was a wide and angled crossing. It had been undergoing some reconstruction—so both sidewalks on each side of the road were removed.
There were stacks of piping with some deep trenches in the way. It was extremely dark. And without any lights—save the occasional amber flashing from the portable signs surrounding the worksite.
I soon discovered that even some of those amber lights were not working at all. This was no place for a Blind individual—let alone a partially sighted person to have to negotiate through this situation. That is especially the case for those of us with “low-vision. So Many are without the capability of adjusting through a seamless transition, from a lighted situation, to that of a darkened set of circumstances; and this of course was actually the case for me,
So given this bad situation I had been rendered totally clueless while trying to find my way on that dark, lonely excavated and dangerous section of highway. By being forced to rely on the same means that a totally blind person would have to manage. Normally dealing with the situation –and with the proper degree of skill; and also at the same time trying to remain calm. Yet in my own mind and Adjusting to a non-sighted technique is usually a flawless process when in a controlled situation; however at this point I was surprised to find myself experiencing a fair amount of frustration with my guide dog, named Nickolai. And as one might well imagine, it became a completely frightening ordeal.
Nikolai sensing this, had taken a—“let’s take an advantage attitude—and “so I’ll go where ever I want to go.” So the dog would pretend to do what I asked, then I would find out that we weren’t where we were supposed to be, based on my best calculations. Though Thinking now a days a Visually Impaired person could have handy a GPS navigation system that would keep themselves at least pointed in the Wright direction.
Stumbling into ruts and getting dirty was no fun—and my patience was wearing thin. There were no corners to get a point of reference from, no one else was around and we simply were going in circles. So I became most certainly by now highly aggravated. However, at length I saw a light in the distance –and pointed my precocious puppy toward it—, and pushed onward. That distinctive beacon proved to be a light at a gas station from a corner that I at least knew about. Then we were able to get our baring—and eventually had found our way back to Mom’s house.
Now safely home I remember that I was really shocked over my feelings of total helplessness, thinking if I were ever to lose all of my sight, how I would ever be able to manage. Moreover, I wasn’t aware that an aggressive type of cataract had been developing in my right eye. This is the one I have some vision in -–and in 2003, I underwent Laser Surgery. So with this it at least had preserved the small amount of sight that I manage with, to this very day.
11.9. “Friends under the Sunshine”
An Organization that provided a safe haven during daylight hours, for helping those without any means of taking care of themselves or their family, was a Program known as “Friends under the Sunshine”; a kind of day-care center for the homeless. —I was surprised to see my old school-mate—and fellow bowler, Steve Gokey, working as a Counselor. He had gone away for a few years to some University—and took Social Service Courses, while I was “slaveing” away in the Cafeteria in Sacramento.
I remember Steve asking me to check out what he was currently involved with. By this time Steve had introduced me to his Boss, Sandra Ellespareu; but in his typically casual way, Steve liked to call his Boss by her first name, “Sandy”. Where was the strict sense of protocol—I asked myself; yet somehow I had agreed to take on the challenge of becoming a type of roll-model for those disabled individuals who were without means; and of course With my dog Nickolai, who was always at my side, proved to be a great icebreaker.
It was with Steve along with Sandy’s help, where I became a kind of “Social Mixer”, endeavoring to establish some form of positive communication with one another; but these individuals were understandably—deeply concerned with their own tragic situation. In fact, they were often not in a good mood, so my actual task was to buoy-up their spirits, in order for them to manage the painful, systematic process of re-connecting with society.
The “Sunshine” Facility provided Counseling and Referral Services—and also a place to clean-up—by getting regular showers. There were lockers for storing daily personal items, along with receiving clean clothing. And the facility had a snack area—and a Large open rec room, featuring a Billiard Table. Quite often it was the center of attention. Therefore, I spent some portion of the day supervising the sport involving challenging one another.
Invariably some regular visitors were only too eager to show-off their particular prowess, with their keen-acumen—waiting for a turn at the game. Also there were various games of cards being played at small tables, situated around the main ticket item, that is, the coveted chance to challenge all comers, for a turn at the Billiard Table; this mainly involved trying to dethrone the “Billiard Champ” of the day.
Thus according to my individual efforts my volunteerism was much appreciated. It seems that my basic positive nature helped in defusing ill-feelings among the crowd, that of those who liked to drop-in each day. However toward the end of my time at the “Sunshine Place, all of their stressors seemed to leach out, transferring to me; and so I eventually decided that enough is enough! Some of these homeless types even tried to follow me to my apartment, which was not far from the Downtown facility.
Then not long after I finished with working at the Center, I heard from Steve Gokey that our mutual acquaintance, Harry Bernard, the elderly happy-go-lucky, totally blind Pianist, had suddenly died while playing a ragtime tune. That actually occurred Wright in front of the crowd, those who were regulars from the Sunshine group. Most of them as usual, were casually listening to the old-time favorites that Harry was playing. He must have had a heart attack—and apparently didn’t know what had hit him—it happened that fast.
However, before all this had occurred while riding the Dial-a-Ride, Harry and I would talk about our days at OCB, telling one another off-colored jokes, remembering the “hitsy-titsy” gag—and trying to make each other laugh. Old Harry was in his eighties, and so was active to the very end.
11.10. UCPA, Stanislaus
Hot Dog Vending Carte
Around this time the newly appointed Director of the UCPA (United Cerebral Palsy Association of Stanislaus County) just happened to be Sandra Ellespareu. She was looking for talented individuals to shore-up the efforts in our area, to meet the needs of those individuals requiring such services; So the old familiar process of, “planning the work –and working the Plan”, shifted into high gear.
And with this Sandy actually wanted to develop a “Needs Assessment Survey, to document various forms of Service Delivery and Support criteria, for those individuals that qualified for C.P, or Cerebral Palsy Program eligibility. She appointed me as a Volunteer to undertake this task—and by Doing this, was to further evaluate my skills. Sandy could then legitimately bring me on board, as a Staff Member, to Carrey-out Independent Living Training; then later, assisting with Vocational Assessments.
Therefore the job involved helping to match the Client’s abilities toward tasks assigned to them. Armed with that Survey developed by me, I interviewed each of the Clients in the Program—and categorized their individual capabilities, which were based upon a variety of skills, including defined tasks that we as and Organization could support. These Skills included demonstrating appropriate behaviors, concerning the Client’s Social maturity and their degree of cognitive ability. This further involved testing varied forms of operant (or fine-motor skill functionality) and detailed their physical limitations, regarding work ability.
Over this time two very capable individuals named Espaizia Kristy and Bob Hurst, were then chosen to evaluate the Client. They were to base their assessments, strictly on Vocational Skill attributes—and eventually would be matching them with the Vocational Job Coaches, thus establishing their Work Site within the Community.
Then within a few Months, I was brought onboard, awarded with a full time position as an On-site Job Coach, with Bob Hurst as my immediate Supervisor. Since I had “Vending Stand experience, Bob and I developed a plan to establish a Hot Dog Vending Cart location, as a mobile Training Work Site. Bob procured the Hot Dog Carte—and had it Licensed by the City. They evaluated it according to Health and Safety Standards. The Vending Cart could thereby be zoned according to the local City Ordinances for curbside vending purposes.
This particular scheme had actually showcased our Community efforts, which demonstrated our organization’s overall capability; that is showing the average individual, that severe physical limitation is not an absolute barrier. In the meantime, Espaizia Kristy headed-up the Job Training and Placement plans. Then, as I eventually became more and more acquainted with the Staff and Client base, we together set in motion what we thought was a nifty forward-thinking plan that included the added support from Community wide businesses; but in practice, The Hot Dog Carte Project proved to be too dynamic in some cases, for those participants who worked very hard, endeavoring to follow all of the steps involved.
And it was according to County and State Regulations, where I needed to Document the Project; Developing an Instructional Manual, thereby writing out each action that would be taken—and note the resulting outcome, that was actually achieved. So this included the daily set-up, breakdown, and stowage of all elements concerning the carte equipment, including following proper food-handling practices. However, in the case of one particular Client, we Staff Supervisors had allowed this eager Client-volunteer to use his wheel chair to tow the Carte to its appointed spot, each working day.
And thus on a couple of occasions this ambitious guy, as was in his usual process, was securely strapped in his chair. He even had it outfitted with parking lights and rear-view mirrors. But on one particular occasion, this guy had inadvertently jack-knifed the carte and wheelchair. So there he was, teetering precariously on the curb, until he could get some help.
Most of these participants were marginally developmentally disabled (and thereby known as “slow-learners”. The U.C.P.A Job Coaches’ major task was to model proper work-ability skills, that included being consistent with daily grooming, by dressing appropriately—and also being punctual and pleasant, as well as remaining positive with other co-workers. Further, it was well-understood that we Coaches were not acting as the Client’s direct Supervisors, when at their individual assigned locations. Our Job coaching task had served, in practical terms, as a buffer between the Client and other individuals, who were actually their immediate work-assignment Directors.
Moreover, we “Job Coaches” routinely gave encouragement and if necessary, (by modeling such actions) that reinforced the work orders given by the Job Supervisor. That was especially the case when working with the Hot Dog Vending Carte, due to its degree of complexities. In fact the Developmentally Disabled Clients, who were tempted to cavort with some of their friends, while on the job; then allowing their minds to wander off task. One time, one of the Clients had left the cash box unattended. That got all the Job Coaches quite perplexed—“How could this kind of thing ever happen?” we plaintively would murmur.
Yet overall despite those occasional vicissitudes, Sandy was impressed with my apparent ability to monitor individuals from a distance. As it was generally thought—being too close and intrusive, would inhibit the Client. That was thought to be the case concerning me, being unable to see exactly what actually was happening, at specific instances. So because of this, at certain times I had to develop a different technique, by touching some of the items in question, following along by feeling the Client’s hands, in order to simply get a sense of what was really occurring.
In addition it was deemed that all U.C.P.A Personnel, who were working with Clients on a day-by-day bases, were required to write “daily notes” to chart the Client’s actual progress. And all of that would serve as a permanent record, in order to develop on-going skill building plans. This was for the general purpose of achieving individual goals —and was defined by the basic “Independent Living Plan”, which was set up by the IL Councilor, who was of course, located at the Independent Living Center.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Patty; “No Leg to Stand On”
(1993 to 1996)
It was nearly a year into the Peer Counseling Project at the I.L.C, as Staff Members were assembling proper “Peer-Matches; and “firming-up the plans for the Training Mods. Then I noticed within our midst, that a friendly, perky and capable blind woman named Patricia Fenton. She proved to be well adjusted and independent—a good leader. So in the long run Patty turned out to be a great asset, a good role model for our Program. She often had great ideas, using various kinds of “friend shipping” techniques -–and bringing fresh insight to our working group. Little did I know—during this time—that Patty would become rather persistent in her own way, wanting to get to know me better on a bases that was more personal then I could ever imagine.
At last as I began to moderate each of the Training Sessions, we as a team would invariably need to learn certain types of communication skills, including non-verbal ones. So at one point in one of the exercises,” Patty” needed a partner to complete that day’s Session, which involved “Non-verbal Skill” demonstration. And at that instance I was the only individual left to help. Since Patty and I were both unable to see, we had to modify the non-verbal gestures, by touching various points on each other’s body. I noticed Patty’s obvious discomfort, though she was actually smiling with a degree of pleasure written on her happy round face.
Then at one point in the exercise, came the moment when Patty had to touch my leg to see if she could detect a sense of silent nervousness, emanating from a slightly exposed harry leg -–and then, she would have to check my hands, for a somewhat moistened response. But after the session was finished, Patty was so overcome with the encounter; that she had to excuse herself quickly, because of a very nervous stomach.
Her face was beet-red, Patty was actually afraid that she would be sick. —I didn’t know what to think about the reaction, whether it was due to positive feelings toward me, or some terribly bad vibes; but over time we each knew that there was mutual attraction occurring. Eventually, Patty invited me to visit her home for dinner; that is, if I would bring dessert.
And so as things were, Patty lived in Ceres California—(a nearby community) for me it took three buses from nearby Modesto, just to go see her. Soon we were inseparable. Patty was a few years older than me, yet respecting me immensely, seeing that I was a well-rounded strong leader—and a positive kind of person. Also for that matter, Patty had a Church family. She belonged to a local Missionary Baptist Church -–and I was soon learning many things about the Bible that I never knew before.
Gradually, I became a Church Member over the course of a year; then being baptized in December, which was only one year after I started working for the ILC. As it happened, my old acquaintance, Marvin Prevost, my former Business Enterprise Consultant (from the BEP Program) had become a Missionary Baptist Church Youth Leader, located in Fresno. I eagerly ordered some of his audio cassette Classroom Training material, in Fresno, and enjoying hearing his voice after so many years, which had gone by much too quickly.
12.1. “The Shortest Day
and the Longest Night”
It became clear to me when thinking of Patty, that it was actually her strong positive character that I admired; mainly based on the fact of how she dealt with blindness—and the severe form of Diabetes that she was facing. In fact, the true test came shortly after we had met, when Patty had inadvertently stepped on a large packing staple that she never felt. The staple had lodged in her right foot—and The Neuropathy in her extremities, never allowed her to feel much direct pain, especially the kind that a staple in the foot would cause. The problem was noticed a few days later—and her Doctor immediately prescribed strong anti-biotic—to quail the wound. But unfortunately, the wound grew worse –and rapidly escalated into a Gangrenous condition.
Within weeks Patty was facing the amputation of her right leg, just below the knee. It was life threatening –and she had no choice in the matter; however Patty simply wasn’t giving up her zest for life. In fact she had bravely told the Surgeon with her characteristic humor; that she wanted an audio recording of the buzz saw removing her leg.
Then after Surgery I ended up as Patty’s constant companion, steeling moments away from work and holding her hand -–and watching over her dog guide Del. Also, I found that Managing both Nickolai and Del was interesting, in that, I alternated between each dog to take the lead, while getting in some “guide work”. Del was mostly stubborn, as was his temperament, but Nick simply had allowed for that under these circumstances. In addition, I found that everyone had been so graciously understanding; this included the Hospital Staff, Dile-a-Ride –and the local bus service.
Fortunately, the Hospital wasn’t far from my Apartment on Orangeburg. So it was an easy bus trip, traveling to work each day. However the wound in Patty’s stump took over a year to completely heal, relying mostly on a Wound-care Professional that used holistic techniques, to bind the wound, through a “wet-to-dry deebreaading process. This involved using a poltis, packing it with a combination of herbs; such as Golden Seal, Golden-rod –and pure Yogurt, made from Goat’s milk. In addition dressing the wound and replacing the bandages was quite necessary to be changed nearly every day. The only way Patty could travel about was by using a wheelchair that her dog Del, very quickly under his own insistence, had figured out how to pull her chair in a proper guiding fashion, taking her wherever she needed to go.
Both of us with our dogs—and the wheelchair, must have been quite a site on busy City streets, as we learned how to navigate in this improvised fashion. We would from time to time encounter strong discrimination problems from others, especially when entering Chinese restaurants.
Patty knew how to be direct, yet polite over these skirmishes. She was more tactful than me. Needless to say, I took a que from that form of lesson. Although, it is fair to say that each of us viewed these occasional encounters were merely regarded as—simply a new adventure, taking it all largely in stride. So this kind of experience, without a doubt, bolstered this unlikely bond, which eventually led to our Marriage.
The happy union was conducted by our Pastor in the living Room of our rented Duplex. That special occasion had occurred on December 21st, 1993. And yet Patty would characteristically quip in a kind of sexy way—”you know, this is after-all—the shortest day –and the longest night”. It was with this thought in mind, being a kind of romantic gesture. Still that thought pervaded this particular Christmas Season, and with an equally romantic action, I surprised Patty with a new Stereo Dual Cassette System. In fact, I had secretly arranged the machine in such a way, that it would automatically play her favorite tune, when she first entered the living room; that happen to be the tune—“I Just Called to Say I Love You”, by Stevie Wonder.
Patty was so over whelmed by this early Christmas present, that she became very emotional, so much so, that she got sick —throwing up and causing me to get sick as well. We together, had tossed our cookies in unison, as it were,” yet completely overjoyed and lost in happiness.
Just the same, I felt particularly fortunate receiving help from my Mom through a Client she just happen to know, when I had first located that nice duplex apartment, just off Orangeburg Avenue. It was located in a cul-de-sac; but to my surprise, I found that Patty suddenly became frustrated and having a bad moment, struggling by trying to crawl from her wheelchair—stubbornly wanting to enter the front door Of the New Duplex. It was vitally important for her to be able to do this for the first time; and needing to do it all independently, as The Landlord John Herdle looked on.
Obviously, John with some puzzlement written on his face, while Patty moaned in pain from her stump; And again was extremely angry concerning the apparent obstacles that were in her way. But over time Patty would use this experience by teaching others, “that if there is a will, there’s a way”.
My spirited Wife Patty would eventually come into her own, by taking the lead when dealing with all kinds of barriers that many people invariably, tend to face, often ignoring their needs, until it became a crises. This included those emotional kinds of problems, which at first for her, seem to be insurmountable. And in fact, these physical and mental factors are exactly the kinds of subjects that were taught at the ILC Center through our Peer Counseling Program –-something I was quite proud of—bringing all this into fruition.
Still, despite those physical barriers -–then looking back at that first year of Marriage was a very sweet period. Between the two of us, we set-up a well-organized and comfortable household. There was even a neighborhood Pharmacy, Supermarket and strip-mall, that was only two blocks away, just over the railroad tracks and canal. Patty would type-out a shopping list and I’d pull a grocery cart, with good-ole’ Nick in the lead. Sometimes Del became the Guide for the day, in order for him to get some needed exercise.
And as it were at our new residence, Patty and I had great fun hosting dinner parties and other get-togethers’. Many of our visually impaired friends would drop by, using Dial-a-Ride; toting musical instruments such as portable keyboards with a guitar or two, for in prompt-to “Hoot-n-nannies’”. And yet I never thought that I ever could, or even would want to play a Musical Instrument. But Recently I purchased a Music Keyboard to do just that.
So after extensive research, comparing various models, I settled on a Casio CTK7000, 61 Key, and Keyboard, which allows the operator to edit, mix and sequence the large array of “tones” available. Also, I’m fortunate in knowing a person who can work with me over time, to teach the rudiments of Musical Theory to someone (like me) that can’t see the LCD display. One of the important choices that I considered when looking for a Keyboard was of course, it’s tactile –and functional layout. Further, I’m not a “gadget-guru” by a long shot—like a few “blinks ” I know; so it will be some time before I am able to play a tune on my own.
12.2. Folk Song
As a Child, I naturally was captivated by the simplistic sound of Folk Music. While in School, as youngsters (earlier described in a previous Chapter), we eager kids had access to basic instruments, such as Bongos and plastic flutes—and playing with Tambourines. However, as just mentioned, I was not so inclined to learn how to play as a child, playing a classical Instrument. The main thing as a teenager was the fact that I didn’t like Rock Music—and I had to come to grasp and eventually appreciate the acoustical aesthetics of Music, in general, only as an adult.
So I had an opportunity through a close friend namely Gary Edwards, who was evidently enthralled with — a certain kind of music; thereby growing up and listening to a variety of Folk groups. Gary began to copy some of his CD’s for me, to add to my music library for my listening pleasure. After a while I caught the fever—and up to now, I have built quite a large song list of all my favorites. In fact, I began to learn more about how each of these groups got their start—With this I also found through some research on the Web, that the basic background reads like this.
“It is generally noted that each country has their own folk music, but the genre usually refers to American and British music, that has been passed through the generations by oral tradition. This simple, acoustic-based music spins everyday events and common people into mythic status.
Moreover, we find many traditional folk songs have no known author; they have simply evolved over the years. Most of the earliest recorded folk music was of this nature; but, with Woody Guthrie, topical folk began making its way to record. Still, a large per portion of artists, including the Weavers and Pete Seeger, chose to mix traditional songs with either newer material, written by the artists themselves or other contemporary musicians.
Initially, Bob Dylan functioned in that style, but by his second album, “The Freewheeling’ Bob Dylan” had begun relying entirely on original material—thereby ushering in the modern era of folk; where most performers sang their own, usually personally or introspective material,—and only occasionally throwing in “covers”, or “pot boilers” as they are called, insuring Album sales. Before this, in the late ‘50s, folk music experienced an upswing in popularity, on college campuses across America. Chiefly among many popular Folk groups were the Kingston Trio, and of course, my favorite, “the fabulous Limelighters”, who quickly followed in their wake.
There were also The Chad Mitchell Trio, The Brothers Four, The Highway Men—and Peter Paul and Mary,—and of cores, The New Christie Minstrels, as well as many more that I am unable to easily name. Further, this so called Folk Revival had brought a number of old stars, such as Pete Cegar –along with all the others back into the spotlight. That increased the audiences substantially, so Pop arrangements of folk songs became hit singles—and then the “folk, esthetic” style provided the basic groundwork for the counterculture rock movement of the ‘60s.
Yet, ironically, the folk revival’s popularity, dipped sharply in the mid-‘60s, after “the Beatles” and “the British Invasion took over. Then, during the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s contemporary folk singers often crossed over into the pop mainstream; but they tended to frequent their own circles, releasing albums on independent labels—and playing coffee houses.
Still early on in the Folk scene, with this kind of cozy atmosphere—a lot of it producing live-recordings—, was precisely the thing that drew Gary Edwards and me to the Genre. As the story goes from the mid 70’s on, there is only a smattering of tunes that I like. Most folk performers interpreted classic folk songs, for which these Artists had written broad-based topical tunes.
However—in the broader more popular view, as we strictly refer to “Contemporary Folk”, like those in this particular Genre (of those mentioned, such as Bob Dylan) yet from what followed, these singer/songwriters began to change their approach. Not only did their music open up, accepting certain pop/rock production techniques and instrumentation. Yet this led toward Reunion gambits to jump-start the careers of certain Folk Groups, in order to keep the “Folk Tradition” alive. But as was alluded to, Songs from such Artists’ became increasingly introspective—and had been concentrated on the personal instead of the social. So that approach had included a more droning tone; therefore becoming—much darker—and was the very thing that didn’t exactly thrill me.
12.3. Bible Study Group
Over the years some of us among the “blind” group noticed that special friendships were rapidly developing, in a more Spiritual way. That form of growth prompted us at least, for those of us who were of the fundamental Christian faith, were quite eager by sharing certain common beliefs;
Although most of us came from different Church backgrounds, yet it was in this vain that our close friends—Bill and Belle Chad had graciously opened their home to all of us. This became a weekly get-together, usually just after a bowling or beep-ball workout. We took turns reading aloud from various Braille versions of the Bible -–and discussed what we may have gleaned from God’s precious word. Those who I remember attending most of our meetings were; Don and Linda Benbrook, Herman and Ursula Henderson, Chris and Debbie Hansen, Katrina and Gary Edwards and also, Sherri and Leo Brown, including myself with Patty. —However, I must say that I truly miss those wonderful moments, as several of those of whom I have mentioned, have “passed”—and are gone to meet the Lord. .
12.4. Braille Literacy
As I described earlier—since the first grade I used Braille from time to time, as a means in which to tabulate information; such as in the case of note taking—and having the ability to refer to such Braille notes as required. So the usage of Braille for me was largely sporadic at best. So over the intervening years, Braille was basically used when composing notes, especially while it was my turn with conducting Space Net presentations. This grew out of an Amateur Radio Hobby, which will be discussed in detail, later. Thus it was with Braille and upon those particular occasions when I needed to prepare notes for various public situations, such as preparing reading material, to be read allowed in Church.
In addition, I found over the years that I needed to refresh my Braille Skills. So I even got certified through the ILC, in Modesto, So as to teach Grades one and two Braille. And especially while my friend Debbie Hansen was employed there, teaching the Braille Code to those in the Community. Yet It is an interesting fact that many people are not aware that the Braille Code does not resemble in any form, any semblance of printed characters; thus the patterns can only be discerned from their tactile arrangement of six dot cells. Columns of three raised dots, side by side.
The first part of the cell, top to bottom, is defined as dots 1, 2, and 3; while the other part, also arranged top to bottom, as dots 4, 5, and 6. Also, part of a Braille Cell can serve in conjunction with another. This is called Grade Two Braille. That is the form which is usually found as written prose, used in books -–and is comprised of short form words and various contractions of additional words. That allows a person to acquire the most information in the least amount of space.
Also there is a Braille Code form, adapted to accommodate the special alpha/numeric characters, associated with Computers. So with a Computer one can use “refreshable Braille’” as a reading and writing method, but requires a separate, input/output device. This kind of technology is usually very expensive. And all This is derived from raised dot patterns that are displayed on a grid, which is electronically actuated. It’s done by way of a translation process from standard text, converted into any desired Braille format; that is simply marvelous. A person usually connects their Braille device to their computer and the “blue-tooth” software solution configures the pairing of the two devices together.
While monitoring these developments over the Web, I found this interesting article concerning the Writing of Braille, using common portable Computer equipment. The following paragraphs are what are being said about this most interesting development.
“Recently, a team of US researchers has devised a way for people with impaired vision to use the touch screen of a tablet, such as an iPad, as a Braille keyboard. It
turns some previously fundamental thinking about how to make technology accessible to blind people, on its head. Instead of using a keyboard or mechanical writer, users type directly onto the flat glass display screen.
The inventors used a novel design for the keyboard to overcome the lack of tactile features;—“Instead of having fingers that find the buttons, we built buttons that find the fingers,” said Stanford’s Sohan Dharmaraja, one of the researchers on the project. Users place eight fingers (four from each hand) on the screen and the keyboard appears. Shaking the device activates a menu, and further interaction is achieved by regular “touch gestures”.
Note:
I might add here—to read what you have entered into the Computer, you must use Speech output, or plug-in a “Braille reading display—now back to the Article…
“Mr. Dharmaraja, alongside team-mates, Adam Duran – an undergraduate from New Mexico University – and assistant professor Adrian Lew, came up with the idea during a “boffin’s X-Factor-style” contest. The competition that is organized each year, by Stanford University, challenges students to come up with some innovative future computing ideas, over their summer break. In some demonstrations, Mr. Duran typed out a complicated mathematical formula—and the chemical equation for photosynthesis; but the Researchers say it also offers a solution for more basic problems.
“Imagine being blind in the classroom, how would you take notes? What if you were on the street and needed to copy down a phone number? These are real challenges blind folks grapple with every day,” said Prof Lew. There are some obvious benefits to using touchscreen technology over traditional Braille writers.—“Current physical note takers are big and clunky—and range from $3,000 to $6,000.
Tablet PCs are available at a fraction of the cost and do so much more,” said Mr. Dharmaraja. As part of the project, the students had to learn the Braille Code. However, the system can seem outdated in a modern era where touchscreens are ubiquitous. Accessible touch screen devices such as the iPad, offer a huge range of possibilities for developers and for blind and partially sighted people,” said Robin Spinks, of the Royal National Institute; a manager of digital accessibility.
Mr. Dharmaraja.Said—“This prototype Braille keyboard for touch screen devices, represents a very promising development—and all of us look forward to being able to test it with our members in the future,” he added. It may be some while until the Stanford project is turned into a commercial reality –-yet the team is determined. “Who knows what we will get because of this device. It is opening a door that wasn’t open before,”
I must say at this point that even with this new development on the horizon, the sad fact is—in today’s educational system for the Blind; the focus has shifted away from teaching the Braille code, mainly due to the lack of funding. This has caused a generational gap of those who might otherwise teach it to a younger population, hence the controversy—that of Braille literacy.
Jamie Pauls, a Host of Serotek’s System Access Mobile Network; of which comprise several Access Technology On-line Weekly Programs, including a Program called “SeroTalk, where Hosts Ricky Enger and Joe Steincamp ,along with Jamie (who incidentally is an avid Braille consumer) and In a recent Blog, weighs-in on this subject, regarding the important of the use of Braille. Jamie poses some questions –and its possible role toward the future -–he tells us…
“I have been an avid reader all of my life -–mysteries, biographies, software manuals -–there aren’t many topics I have not explored over the 43 years of my life, that I have known how to read. Like so many others in the blind community, I have listened to audio books since I was able to operate the record player that used to store talking books—back in my early childhood.
Today I enjoy reading books on my iPhone, using my Victor Reader Stream, or sitting at the computer. As important as the digital age is to me, nothing has even come close to empowering me as a blind person, the way Braille has. And, as I allow myself to reflect on my experiences with Braille, certain memories come to the forefront of my thoughts, such as writing lines of Braille cells across a page, as a first-grader;
The bewilderment I felt the first time I came across a page of Braille with lines of text, that were not separated by blank lines; The smell of Braille books, both new and old. When I was in middle school, I received a four-volume atlas of the United States, as a companion to the social studies textbook our class was using. I studied every map in that atlas over and over again for hours on end, tracing rivers and pretending they were roads.
I was ecstatic to find my home town, small as it was, listed on the map of Missouri. Most of what I know about the geography of the United States today came from that set of maps. I think back on the excitement of running to the mailbox and carting back, box after box of Braille books—and then hunting through the boxes for the first volume of the latest book I was about to devour. And now such it is, these days, what with the portability and low cost of e-books, it seems that Braille is struggling to keep its place in the lives of the blind.
The high cost of Braille displays compounds the problem, making it easier to simply abandon Braille, or perhaps relegate it to infrequent use. Does it really matter if Braille becomes a medium that exists only in museums and the memories of older blind people? Is it time to move on to more modern and cost-effective ways of communicating the written word, or should we fight to bring Braille back to the forefront of our collective consciousness? Why is Braille still relevant today?
I believe Braille is essential for good writing. I would not be the proficient speller, I am today, if I had not read hundreds of thousands of Braille words over the course of my life. While any decent screen reader provides the ability to spell words and review lines of text character by character, it is virtually impossible to catch all formatting and spelling errors in a document with speech alone. Anyone who uses text-to-speech software at all, knows all too well, the frustration of deciphering b’s from d’s, and sorting out all of the words that sound alike—but are spelled differently—such as there and there. As I type these words, I wonder how many readers are listening to my thoughts at 600 words per-minute.—Is it really possible to absorb and digest a piece of writing, such as this one when listening to speech at supersonic speeds? Don’t get me wrong—I skim through familiar and reoccurring text on a daily basis—and would not consider using a speech synthesizer that I couldn’t speed up at will.
That being said, when I really need to digest something I am reading, I will slow my speech rate down or transfer the content to an sd card, for later reading on my Braille display. I am constantly amazed at the number of errors I find in documents—I am reading in Braille that I did not catch with speech alone.
Finally, reading a book, poem, or blog post in Braille permits me to become part of the experience, in a way that speech never allows. For example, I create voices for characters, hear a friend’s voice in my head as I read their written thoughts, and most importantly, slow down and really pay attention to what I am reading. Would I want to go back to the days before I had my iPhone and portable book reader? No way. Am I as likely to use a slate and stylus today as I was 20 years ago? Probably not Can I imagine what my life would be like if I never again read another line of text in Braille? I don’t even want to dwell on the thought.
Thank you Jamie for your input on these matters—I suspect that in the historical sense, that we must give enormous credit to Louise Braille, chiefly the inventor of that ingenious “scheme”. This by chance had become a secret system, which was originally developed for the French military —and had been skillfully arranged with those strangely arrayed raised patterns. In fact, these messages that were created in this manner, were covertly detected by a Soldier’s fingertips.
Then, over time this raised dot Code had enabled a more modern tactile form to develop. So it is, in Todays’ World, we find that this had become a vastly rich and comprehensive method of reading—so important to all of those who are blind. And for me personally, that reading technique has given me the ability to read independently, therefore becoming more productive in ways hither to unknown. Further, this kind of knowledge is something I myself, along with people such as Jamie Pauls, and still many others I can easily name; we all hope to pass on to those who are blind, that they may enable others by teaching this important skill, keeping this vital source of reading and writing—alive” -–and allowing still the same for others, toward the future.
12.5. The Golden Rule Award
Unfortunately, I had found when at the ILC, during the time of my two-year stent as a “Peer Counseling Coordinator (when the paid Position was swiftly coming to an end); there was simply no more money in the General Budget. It was now necessary to renew the two-year Program. The United Way obligation to retain me, as part of the contract, had just been completed. This was while the Center Director Kent Mickelson, had been much too busy fighting the necessary political battles, in order to find the needed funding sources, which were all of cores directed toward other vital, Core I.L.C services.
Thus waylaid by Kent’s missed actions, had forced the Peer Counseling Program to struggle—and later surviving simply as a volunteer entity. It was therefore necessary for me to look for a paid position elsewhere.
Fred Dickenson, the Lead Counselor, in light of the situation had suggested that Patty’s personal efforts just might be the solution, as long as she could volunteer as the Peer Counseling Coordinator. And so indeed It turned out that Patty, being the special person that she was—had seamlessly provided exemplary service -–and at length, was recognized as a winner of the coveted JC Penny Annual Volunteer of America Award.
Therefore, in recognition for her work, she was given Certificates from Leaders of the Federal, State and Local County and City Governments, including a letter from the President of the United States. The award also included a beautiful “Chrystal Flame trophy, now displayed in my knickknack cabinet at home.
12.6, No Goodbyes
Sadly, just after only one healthy year of Marriage, along with Patty’s service to the ILC, her personal health began to wane. The Diabetes had raged in her body, sapping her energy. Still, through our mutual Love for one another, both of us were willing to face these uncertainties—yet we were obviously very worried. Patty deep down somehow knew that this was the end. Acting quite bravely, she never exactly expressed all these frightening implications, at least not in such fatal terms. Evidently, one of us would have to carry-on without the other. That very thought lingered in the periphery of my mind. At any rate, Patty was hospitalized for more than a month,
Initially, she had showed some promising evidence for recovery, after being at first placed in Critical Care -–and then stabilized with the proper balance of electrolytes in her system. Through this tough period, Michele, Patty’s youngest Daughter was especially a great help to me. She gave –her all—toward supplementing needed coverage for the Visiting Nurses, while I continued to work more or less, at the ILC. However, on March 3rd 1996, just a few days after Patty came home from the Hospital, with the promise that she would begin physical therapy, on the following Monday; her breathing became labored in the night. By then, I had been awake for three days straight -–and wasn’t able to administer Nitro Glycerin tablets or anything like that -–and I needed help quickly.
Of course—I called “9–1–1”, immediately. The Paramedics arrived right away, but Patty was failing fast. Her Vital organs were shutting down. As this was happening, our two beloved dogs somehow knowing this, suddenly became very quiet. It was perplexing to me, reflecting on my actions a bit later, that during these critical moments, I still remained calm; thinking that we would revive my loving Wife once again, as was the case earlier; but it suddenly became evident that she just might not pull through.
The Paramedics kept me from being too close, as they administered those most vital Medical steps thus insuring the greatest care possible. My Mom—and Sister Jackie; Brothers Rick and Tom, were all there for me. Patty and I didn’t actually get to say “goodbye”. Her voice just tailed off, as she simply followed instructions from the Paramedics. Over the past weeks, she was of cores heavily medicated—and did not appeared to be in any pain—so I don’t think she really suffered at the end. This at least had been based upon the official diagnosis, which was due to Congestive Heart Failure, from Diabetes.
I really felt that despite that awful tragedy, that our unique relationship represented a special form of closure, for Patty’s life in general. It was a great testament –and a fabulous tribute to her legacy, which was evidenced by the tremendous outpouring of love, displayed at her Memorial Service, a few days later. That entire experience caused me to come to know what it must feel like, just as a Soldier feels—when he loses a very close companion on the battlefield. His comrade’s life—slowly ebbing away –-and there’s nothing that can be done that would change anything, especially in the heat of War… Now on to a much lighter subject.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Set, Ready, Pitch’!
“Beep” Baseball
(1991 through 2000)
It is found in the mid Twentieth Century—and half of the previous one, that the All-American pastime was the game of Baseball. The only Athletic Sport where the defending side possesses and has control of the Ball; a highly recognized, strongly contested—stitched together cowhide orb. Thus it had been often said that Baseball is a game of both time and timelessness—and is a Sport now played under the lights at Multi-million dollar stadiums. Further, one may discover that it also is a Game played by many on sandlots—in asphalt citywide intersections, which may even include manhole covers for bases.
Moreover, it’s even been said that Baseball is a haunted game, where the ghosts of those that have gone before—and of whose true mark of excellence, is the penultimate measure of those who strive to be the very best of all who play The Sport today. And curiously enough, this Professional brand of “ball” requires the so called “batting” Team (or Offensive Players) who with some great effort and concentration—must heft “their mighty bat”, sometimes swinging in vain, missing “the tiny orb”, as they utterly fail two-thirds of the time. Yet these are considered the best-known ball players of them all; indeed, they are forever etched in stone, like the immortal Heroes of antiquity.
Along with this, there remains a special regard for a certain degree of exactitude, among its Players—resembling that of the highest standards of purity; though at the same time had occasionally over the years, exhibited some basic Human flaws; With this, we discover that the Game had again righted itself through its unique form of governances, that had been hammered-out over the test of time, which still remains to this very day.
So we also come to find that the great outdoor sport (historically speaking) had grown-up with America, therefore providing mostly friendly competition, but mainly out of tradition; although had knitted together family (old and young alike). Yet as was just implied—had in fact acquired a more dubious side. The Sport provided the means to build a money-making enterprise -–and at times, even had stifled the earlier friendliness -–while giving rise to all-out rue barbs, throughout the course of play. Still all of this had proven to be interesting enough, as it tends to push up the excitement level a notch or two. And to be sure The very fact remains, that Players and Fans always seem to possess a firm sense of expectancy, as many still agree that Baseball should remain a perennial fixture—just like the ebb and inevitable flow of the natural Seasons.
Further, we are often reminded that Baseball is a game much more important than what appears on the surface. The Sport has been called “the game of Life”. In short, we note that Baseball is regarded as a great leveler, which brings to the table all aspects of what defines the very best and the worst of our collective American character. Again, we must note that both novices as well as professional devotees, can very well play some form of this particular game. And shortly we will see that even those without eyesight are no exception. Yet through all of this we find that The “so called National Pastime” is largely embraced by a great many the World over, who are drawn by the Game’s special lure; that this deep fervor for “Ball”—as it is affectionately called, begins with the hopeful innocence of springtime—and ends with the harsh realities of autumn.
So for me, from an early age like many others of the era I grew up in, the family often enjoyed the Major League Games on TV, especially while sitting with my Dad along with my brothers. My Father was sometimes like the main character in the Broadway Play, “Damm Yankees”—wanting to strike the TV screen, when a “bad call” was made). It was the 1960s “Game of the Week”, in glorious black and white -–and we, father and sons, together loved it.
Also, the play-by-play TV announcers such as Kurt Gouty and Joe Garragiola, with Pewee Reece and Tony Kubeck, who offered “color-commentary”, would deliver the suspenseful build-up as each game unfolded. Of course, because of my lack of sight, I mainly relied on the sounds emanating from the TV set; therefore excitedly queried anyone around with eyes, to fill in anything I may have visually missed. So like most kids of the time, we youngsters spent some of our pastime collecting Baseball cards -–undoubtedly, I’m sure, slipping some now priceless collectables between the spokes of our bicycle wheels, to make a robust clicking sound—as we rode around the neighborhood streets -–varroom!
When I wasn’t—as it were, nestled by the “tube” and taking in the Saturday Game of the Week; like any other kid I yearned to play ball. This desire probably had stemmed from activities in school, playing with an “audi-ball”, which was simply a standard playground ball with a little bell in it. Don’t ask me how it got in there—I didn’t care about that—only that it was a lot easier to follow -–and ease and accuracy was the name of the game.
It was in Junior-high, where in “Modified Gym Class” was where I honed the athletic skill, of swishing a basketball through a standard hoop; but doing this while in motion, as with a “lay up” or alli-oope, proved to be too difficult. Nonetheless I got good at the game of “Out”. This little game involved standing at various points on the “Key of the playing Court. Shooting hoops, as one progressed around that part of the key—and anytime you missed, you lost your turn—and were awarded an “O”, then a “U” and then, a “T”. Then you’re “out” of the game.
But as far as School was concerned I don’t recall playing even with a slow-pitch wiffell ball—that was reserved for neighborhood sandlots. So on the school-grounds we youngsters evidently weren’t allowed to wield a bat without supervision—and the “blind-guy—“no-way-Jose”! As it would have been off limits; though playing Kick-ball was for me; so it was perfectly allowed.—I generally could see the larger slower ball; and my classmates could call out—thus beckoning me, insuring that I knew where the correct base was.
Soon playground balls inevitably gave way to softball, a “baseball-like” form of slow-pitch play. Eventually the play became faster—and the dimensions of the field were now farther apart, as we boys became older; but I got hit too often, because of not seeing the ball well enough. One poignant memory that I still recall, was the time when I was suddenly drilled by a ball, hit in the Adams apple from a drive-line shot—and then, another time I got blasted in the testicles, with a sharp liner—the ball evidently without “seeing eyes”. And with this the elusive orb would appear to evade fielders, causing excited Commentators who often in an affectionate manner, when describing an unforeseen action, by uttering the colorful “seeing-eye” phrase. But all that rough-and tumble activity had ended any desire to play with the big boys any longer.
Yet as a kid, I still have fond memories of my Dad’s Baseball coaching days, as he primarily Umpired Church Ball in the Mormon organized Leagues. That was when I was very young, when I remember sneaking into Dad’s closet, pulling on the pieces of protective garb and not truly knowing what those things were used for; but only knowing that was Daddy’s “baseball stuff”. However, Dad sadly could not play the Sport he loved—due to a childhood injury. He had bone taken out of his hip, causing one leg to be slightly shorter than the other.
But over the years my Father was hobbled by constant pain; still he was devoted to Umpiring” the then Simi-pro Modesto Reds—and so we boys would watch these games from the bleachers. Dad would often have the duty of being the last official to leave the grounds, turning out the lights before we could go home. It seem to him inevitably that we as youngsters were often tired and sleepy, though perhaps quietly musing over the beginning of another day, which would be filled with the promise of further joy on the ball Diamond. It also seems that every Major League “wannabee”, growing-up with the Game, usually is drawn to it -–and instinctively pines for the first signs of springtime; limbering-up tight winter muscles –and working-out the kinks, in both mind and body.
Thus it was while growing up with the game of Baseball”—we couldn’t help but notice that Players, year in and year out had yearn to smell the freshly cut green grass—the itch to spar with friend-and-foe-alike; and also betting on who was the better team or better players of the coming Season. When reading these Chapters the Reader might recall that I briefly mentioned earlier, that my Brother Tom had the good fortune of being talented enough to be selected by the New York Mets Organization. He was part of the Tidewater Florida Farm System. And so it was Years earlier, where Tom had started out in “little League”, in what was known as “Bell Passi” Ball Park; then later the name was changed to John Thurman Field;
Tommy, as an eight year old “Little Leaguer—a member of “The Tigers” had been quite Eger to show his stuff. He proved to be a natural player -–and I fondly recall many-a-Saturday, usually as a spectator, had absorbed all of the richly invigorating sounds of the game; and yet for myself, trying to see the action –and always rooting for my little bro. As you might guess, Dad was the loudest, pushing Tom—giving him the confidence he needed to survive the rigors of the sport.
13.1. A Whole New Ballgame
As a General thing along with my blind colleagues, we most of the time had been relegated to be listening though quite intently to ballgames on the radio. And as it had been up to that time, our athletic prowess had mainly centered on Bowling but in 1991 this all changed. The Lions Clubs in our area had been spearheaded by a Tommy Lasorda type of guy, who was named Bob Tognetti. He had learned of a game called “Beep Baseball”. It so happened that a certain Radio personality from Modesto, one of our fellow blind bowlers—totally blind, named Marty Lancer. And He along with the politically savvy Manual Gonsalves had both joined forces, thus sparking the interest of all of us by playing such a game.
Still another fellow who had just recently moved to this area, a guy that surely was bitten by the baseball bug. His name was Bill Chad. So excited with the prospect of leading a Team to victory; he appeared to be spring-loaded and was thereby champing at the bit. Bill jumped at the chance when offered an opportunity to become a Team Captain. Soon we were flush with enthusiasm among our local blind constituency; but mere excitement alone would not make this a reality.
First we had to take stalk of those of us who were physically able to athletically heft an aluminum bat—and speedily lope around a large flat grassy field, chasing and diving after a beeping ball. Our group did not exactly have many young folks amongst ourselves. And then, the other big question was could the main organizers, including yours truly, be able to get enough sighted individuals committed to be a part of this new Endeavour.
We collectively reasoned that those who were regular bowlers on Saturdays could in the summer months, would have time to fill a ball Roster. As I recall, we had for the Teams other interested individuals like; Chris Hansen, Robert England, Mark Lemmons, Steve Orial, Randy Spindler—and his Brother and Sister Mylen and Mary Miiler. In addition, there were Players such as; Herman Hamilton, Jim Breitenfeld, Sheryl Niles, Zaida Morales , Bill and Bell Chadd, Yolanda Garsia—and still several others appearing over the years. And to our delight we soon discovered through a few informal practices that we indeed had enough players to form two teams.
Thus as it happened our Organizing Committee—through contacts with the National Beep Baseball Association, had informed us that the game required at least six blind players to form each of the teams. Also each Team would need a couple of dedicated sighted Pitchers—and at least two Umpires to determine the fielding actions of the players on the diamond. Then, we Members within a brief period of time had formally registered our league. Of course following the guidelines based upon the Accreditation Rules. With this, we were obligated to muster all of those who had sight, which included those important volunteers, who over this time had committed themselves by helping with transportation needs, week to week.
So again in short order with the Lyons Clubs financial commitment, both Teams were outfitted either with sporty Blue and White jerseys, or, for the opposing team, were wearing green and white ones. Each Jersey was emblazoned with a fancy MOBB lettering on the front and the player is chosen number was prominently displayed on the back. Finally, the uniform was topped-off with white caps -–You know, “The Good-guys”. We called ourselves, the “MOBB”, meaning “Modesto Organized Beep Baseball”. Still we referred to ourselves, in smug fashion simply as the “mob”. At least we all looked the part. And the overall image initially was a good sell to the local area.
In addition we were all surprised to see that many of the folks of our community remained supportive over the nearly ten years of our existence. Although the real challenge at first was to learn the playing rules—and attempt to develop the competitive moxie required, in order to play against other Teams from cities of surrounding areas.
Usually, when it came to intra-city competition, we seemed too looked toward the Stockton Quakes to play a double header on a given Saturday, with a barbecue included between games, in order to feed the masses. This was when I became reacquainted with Henry Negretti and Alaina Harwadael. Alaina was my former Rehab-Counselor, who now, by this time had developed an Organization known as Tri-County Services –-a multi-faceted blindness based Program, that included a “Travel Club”, who were mostly from the Sacramento area. Nevertheless, it was a great way to bring about awareness of blind individuals, who were involved with trading useful information, that would allow for a more out-going and athletic performance among those involved. So with such athleticism in mind, here is a brief description of how the game is played.
“Beep Ball Playing rules
—Each team fields six players. The field is different in that there is no second base.
—All players accept for the Pitcher, and Catcher, are “blindfolded”, in order to make the game fair.
—Each team has a sighted pitcher and catcher; while the pitchers pitch to their teammates.
—A game is six innings—accept in the case of a tie, which causes extra innings to be played. Unlike in the professional game.
—The batter is allowed four strikes, rather than three.
—Any ball hit 40 feet or less is automatically a “foul ball”.
—The 170 foot rule applies when a Batter slugs the ball, and the ball, reaching that distance in the air, would be judged as a “Home Run”.
NOTE:
There are a lot of sounds in beep baseball. The ball “beeps” and the bases “buzz”. When the batter makes contact with a “fair ball”, the home plate umpire activates either first base or third base. This is done randomly, so as to give the defensive Players a better chance to field the ball. The batter must then run to whichever base is buzzing.
—If the batter reaches the base safely before the ball is fielded, a run has just scored.
—If the ball is fielded before the runner reaches the base, an out is recorded.
NOTE:
However, during the action of putting the ball in play, which actually, only lasts a few seconds; just like in a Tennis Match, the spectators cease from applause until the “play” is determined to be completed; as signaled by the “Umpire”.
—While the pitchers pitch to their own teams, guaranteeing a decent pitch, the opposition is on the field. Incidentally, The Pitcher usually wares protective gear, due to the close proximity of the Batter, which is only a mere twenty-two and a half feet from the plate.
Playing Defense
There is some variation in the positioning of defensive players, just like in the professional game. This is based on fielder preferences and batter tendencies. Statistical Records are kept by each Team—and is of Public Record. Also the field is generally divided into six quadrants that form sort of wedge patterns around the bases. A typical defensive alignment might look something like the following:
—First base:
the “First basemen” plays on the inside runner’s line. The Batter, hitting a “fare ball” is actually given a wide birth while the player is in an all-out sprint, in an effort to get to the base, in order to score a run. The base, of which has a “buzzing sound”—. And is four foot tall, —a cone-shaped padded pedestal.
“The Runner”, after making contact with “the bat”, while running to the base is focusing on the sound. They usually tumble over the base, attempting to break their momentum.
Third base
—As seen from the view of the Umpire Third Base is located on the left side of the diamond. Aligned with the Third Base Pedestal.
Right field
—“Right Field” has the same configuration as the left field side, and is played accordingly.
Back field”
The “Back Field” Player; located deeper in center field. This is the number six position where I played the majority of the time. I’d fade, either left or right, or fall back, audibly tracking the ball, serving as the last line of Defense. As it were, “Right” and “Left fielders” tend to play rather shallow, unless a known power hitter is at the plate).
“Mid field”
“Mid-field ;“is a very shallow center field—not far from where second base would be in a regular baseball configuration. That would be the number “Three” position, generally placed in front of the number “Six” Position.
The call of the Field umpire or “Spotter” is crucial; usually, the interplay among defenders will first listen for the movement of other fielders; at the same time, would track the directional sound of the “beeping” ball, bounding through their “fielding zone”, called out by the “Field Umpire”.
The designated fielder then commits them self to the play—by Colling-out, saying; “going for it”! The “fielding player” would then try to grapple the ball by Diving and trapping it, hopefully apprehending the ball, holding it up for the umpire to see.
Sometimes the Fielders will block the ball with their bodies, curling around it. However, they must bring the ball away from their body, still showing control, for the “Umpire” to record the “out”.
Generally, on the Defensive side, a catch in the air is very rare. So far in the history of organized beep baseball, only five balls have been caught on the fly
—A caught ball in the air is an automatic “triple play”
–-and “then you’re out of there”!
Overall, it takes a lot of volunteers to make beep baseball happen. There are up to four ‘Umpires”; home plate, first base, third base and outfield.
—The “home plate umpire” calls “balls” and “strikes”; and decides which base to activate when the ball is. Hit.
—The “first and “third base umpires’ signal when the batter has reached the base.
—The outfield Umpire, or “Spotter”, signals when a defender has apprehended the ball; or when a collision is immanent—and calls, “freeze”! The play is then declared “dead”—and is played over.
As in professional baseball, the umpires will consult one another for close plays. There are also coaches and instructors that help improve team skill, both, “offensively” and” defensively”. Finally, each team uses one or two fielding spotters, namely, the afore-mentioned “Fielding Umpires”.
The spotter calls out a number corresponding to the position of a hit ball. Also, these numbers directly relate to the defensive positions,) 1 through 6). Spotters will use different voice inflections to alert the defense, to balls hit either hard or softly, or balls hit in the air or on the ground.
—If the spotter says anything other than one of the position numbers, the defensive team is penalized; then the team at bat is awarded a run….
In recent years, two major adjustments were devised to allow for a weaker Team to become equal to the challenge. First, a “twelve Run Rule” was instituted; this allows the Team lagging behind, to try to catch-up to the Team that is at least twelve runs ahead.
Additionally, the two bases (first and third), have been set an additional ten feet farther from their original position (a total of 100 feet).
These two changes in the game result in a better balance, allowing for the defensive team to achieve a greater opportunity, for making “put-outs”. That results in a more competitive game, thus adding greater excitement to the sport.
13.2. Promoting the League at the Modesto A’s—John Thermon Field
As far as our home League was concerned; namely “the Mobb”—and as was stated earlier, we were long on enthusiasm and short on pure talent. There were to be sure a few players from the League if given a chance to play for a gifted team; with that, their efforts would truly shine. Gary Edwards was one of these players that had experience with the team earlier mentioned—called “The Quakes” from Sacramento California. One year they played in a National Tournament. Though from what I understand, Gary’s team was soundly crushed by the competition.
Our League nonetheless was fortunate enough to play before a large crowd each year, prior to the start of a Modesto A’s game. In fact, the Minor League Team was indeed part of the Oakland A’s Farm System. Incidentally, over several years, my good friend Steve Gokey had been involved with the “Little A’s: as he fondly called them—and to our surprise he chose not to play as a member of the Mobb. However, Steve served as an assistant Health Trainer, with the “Little A’s. He held a Certificate as a Massage Therapist. So the very thought of Steve’s activities would lodge in my mind—and in the coming years would spark some interest toward developing this kind of vocational pursuit; one that my present Wife Lucy, and I would bring to fruition.
Still, Steve Gokey’s athletic prowess over the past Ten years or so, has extended to Running Marathons throughout the Country; but right now, the delightful game of “ball” was at hand. Thus it was in 1994 when our competition for one of these games had been that of a rowdy band of Radio Personalities, from our local listening area. This included guys from K O93-F M, and one from the Cub Country, K U B B-F M Radio Station; which also included a Station called KAT Country-F M.
Since these folks were well known Dj’s—they in jovial fashion were quite funny -–acting silly in front of the movie cameras during their particular times at bat. We happened to be recording the game for posterity, using a video recorder.
So there they were—each of those guys camping it up; vacillating between mock brashness and fervent voracity—then mincing like an old lady in mock meekness. The great sound quality from our recordings came across loud and clear, with the crowd guffawing at every turn. We the Mobb were nervous and were worried about our individual performances.
This was because of the large facilities, including the dirt portion, or skin of the Diamond; and then having to cope with an actual Pitcher’s mound—which for us was inconveniently place within the bounds of our mid-field. Also, there were the strange echoes emanating from the sounds of the game action, bouncing off the vast distances, emanating from the back fences—yet, our Mobb proved to be victorious that particular day.
13.3. The San Francisco,
1989 Loma Preetta Earthquake
I remember back in 1987, when I had established an Apartment on Orangeburg Avenue, not far from my Mom’s house—and only a short bus ride to the College. At any rate, I was busily Trekking along using my Guide Dog Patrick, reaching the Bowling Alley on Mchenry Avenue—and perhaps if needed, catching the bus going the other way. -–I could reach the Downtown area sporting a heavy backpack; carrying all the necessary claptrap that I needed, in order to do whatever I was called upon to do. Usually this meant conducting Blind Association business, or finishing some assignment at the Downtown MJC Campus.
So over these years I got a lot of exercise, building great stamina, while mostly on foot; but in October 1989 the Earth suddenly began to shake beneath the feet of those in the San Francisco Bay Area. . Game three of the Fall Classic, between my two favorite Baseball Teams, the San Francisco Giants and the Oakland A’s, was gearing-up. As it happened, I was in the process of recording the TV Sports Coverage. The Giants were facing elimination. And then, all of the sudden the image on the TV jerked wildly—and the lights in the Stadium flickered, after that, there was just static. A second later, I felt a tumbling rolling motion, causing the VCR to fall into my lap. The power suddenly went. And for about fifteen or twenty seconds there was dead silence.
While initially determining that everything was OK and quiet.—I had the presence of mind to throw a blank audio tape cassette into my “boom box” recorder, that used batteries; and then tuned into the KCBS Radio Network, which was a Bay Area Station; I was like everyone else wanting to know what the hell was going on!
Just after those first scary moments of October 17th, the electricity finally returned after an hour or so. The TV was now showing the devastation of the San Francisco, Oakland Bay Bridge, the Embarcadero area and Scenes of Candle Stick Park, where the World Series was being played. The Ball Park had some infrastructure damage—and the Team Players and the crowd were all visibly shaken. Everybody was busy looking for loved-ones. —I simply hit “record” on my VCR—and resumed recording TV network coverage of several days of what exactly had transpired. Every one of cores has their own story of the moment, when the Six point nine quake suddenly hit, at just after 5pm local time.
My dog Patrick simply laid quietly by the front door of my Apartment; other scenes at this same instance included Mom, who was in her home busily grabbing on to her large china cabinet, holding herself up, and protecting her dishes. Then, there was my brother Tom who was surveying the Canal system for the Modesto Irrigation District (a major utility service for which he worked). Tom was surprised to see the water sloshing about, threatening to breach their banks along the canal, of which he was inspecting. Meanwhile, down in the basement area, at the S.A.B Office, Mark Lemmons tells us that he even felt it, rolling and shuddering, disrupting everyone’s work. Overall, the event was certainly memorable. Now I know why Gary’s old “beepball” team was called the “Quakes”.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Star Voyager”
(1998 to 2001)
In the autumn of 1996, my Sister Jacki by that time was dealing with Fibro Myalgia. So she needed a roommate. She was really struggling with the Disorder, along with all of the problems with the Medical Bureaucracy. Feeling somewhat obligated —I accepted her special request; thus in doing so I found that this arrangement had presented a further opportunity to get to know more about one another’s personal values, which especially had dealt with our individual walk with the Lord—our Savior Jesus Christ. And as was the case when interacting with Jacki’s Church group, I quickly found out they were all a bit more Charismatic than what I was accustom to;
None the less I found that this basically had helped me to become even more grounded with my Biblical studies. Additionally, I generally enjoyed the fellowship. So all and all—my time with my Sister was a great transitional period; thereby creating some form of spiritual fortification –-and would prove even more beneficial over the next few years. And so indeed it proved to be quite evident through a tragic ordeal, occurring on August 17th 2008. This was when our family sadly lost my oldest brother Craig. He had developed Pneumonia—and his general health had steadily weakened throughout the following Month. And finally it was when Craig had Sercombe to that fatal condition. My poor Downs-syndrome Brother really struggled in those final hours—yet had he had maintained a degree of quiet dignity as he passed.
Craig’s death came just before his sixtieth birthday. As you may remember from an earlier Chapter, he had become my boyhood protector. So through those difficult moments, all of us along with our dear Mother solemnly gathered around and comforting him, until the very end. Then only three years later we lost another Family member, which was on October 1st 2011, as my Sister Vicki, to our shock had suddenly passed away. This was due to complications stemming from a ten-year battle with a form of Lupus—of which in the course of the Disease, had destroyed both her Kidneys; but years earlier, Vicki’s second Son Brandon, had become a perfect Donor, this allowed his Mother an additional ten years of meaningful life. Although this final test of endurance, enabled Vicki over this intervening time, to get to know both of her precious grandchildren, little Sienna and Corbin.
And when it was time for Jacki at the large family Memorial gathering, solemnly had spoken of our Sister Vicki in eulogy, tearfully saying –-“She’s not only beautiful but passionately young, playful as a kid, yet wise as one who has lived long. Her love is like the rush of life, a bubbling laughing spring that runs through all—like liquid light—and makes the mountains sing; Turning the meadows to a flower and trees to choicest fruit. Her life will always be the soil in which our hearts take root…”
Yet, with all of this tragedy happening over such a short period—I find that I am further strengthened by my faith. One must consider that physical death is a necessary part of eternal life; but if my Brother and Sister’s passing were not enough, I received the sad word sometime earlier from Mark Lemmons, that our friend Gary Edwards had died from Congestive Heart failure. He suffered for years with Diabetes. Almost one year before that, Gary’s Wife Katrina, had passed-away due to her rare chronic disease, Poliomyelitis. I am quite Shure that all of these special individuals, (who had most certainly made a real difference for me). And each of them I’m sure are now gone to meet the Lord; so of course I will greatly miss them.
14.1. Moving to Salida
Back in 1998 I suddenly got a call from my buddy Mark Lemmons who—wouldn’t you know it, needed a Roommate to share expenses, as he was at the time living in Salida; which is a small Community just north of Modesto. So as things happen Jacki and I were beginning to move on in our individual lives. Over time, my older Sister had been making steady improvement with her physical problems concerning her chronic illnesses. Thus with this new arrangement, I found that batching with my buddy Mark was quite uplifting just as well.
We shared many common interests surrounding Amateur Radio—and of course, Mark’s strong bent, having to do with Meteorology. He then could truly relate to my expressed interests with Space Science. So in short order we guys setup a rooftop Satellite dish system through Dish Network, enjoying NASA TV –and vicariously following each and every Space Shuttle Flight.
Thus this interesting Hobby allowed me the opportunity to archive entire Shuttle and Space Station Missions. And over these two and a half years with my good buddy, we found that by helping each other with common domestic chores, such as with kitchen duties—me as the regular cook—and Mark as master Clean-up. All of that kind of experience had helped us both in maintaining our individual sense of independent capability.
14.2. This is”kC6TVI”
One particular thing that Mark provided as a HAM, was when he had decided—in fact, had insisted that it was high time that I pass my Amateur Radio licensing. Through the previous years, I flirted with the idea, but was not committed. Mark, however setup a regular Radio Class; thereby bringing in other Blind Amateur Radio want to-bees. And a few weeks later, we guys were ready to be tested on both the International Radio Code, including the Theory parts of the exam. In usual fashion, I barely passed; but still the same I received my Certification in the Mail. This just happened to be on the vary day of our first Beep Baseball Meeting of the Blind group, called “The Mobb”—who together had decided to press ahead with plans for officially establishing the League.
With this, the “Beepball” Committee had assembled at my Mom’s house, in the back yard. We had just concluded the Meeting of the “mobb.” Then it was time for everyone to congratulate me on receiving my call letters, which happens to be—KC6TVI”.
Shortly thereafter, I had established my own base station “Shack”, while still in Salida —and got lots of practice with Radio Procedures, getting familiar with the local “hams”, who were mainly part of the Amateur Radio Club, known as SARA; meaning Stanislaus Amateur Radio Association. Thus among many worthy projects the SARA Club formed a new special interest “Net”—centering on Space Science, as it related to Amateur Radio. The following dialogue provides the Reader with some good background on our collective efforts, which had been taking place over the past seventeen years.
“QST… “QST… QST; Welcome to this weekly edition of SARA’s SpaceNet. Central California’s only HAM Network, dedicated to all things found in Air and Space.
“Good evening, my name is Terry, KC6TVI, now located in Merced California. I along with Mark, WB6BJN, who’s currently reestablished in Modesto California; we together, will share Tonight’s Net Control duties. Mark, a capable Radio Solar Propagation expert, will give us some idea on the outlook for our Terrestrial Weather as well –-Standby for Mark’s report, shortly; but please allow us also to give each of you, some idea of what we do each week. With This, why don’t I just turn the Net over to our capable Co-founder of the Net, Chuck Marble , KE6, OAG, he’ll provide you all with what we have done each week over the many years. This is Terry, your co-net control Operator—turning the Net over to
KE6-OAG, Chuck; this is, KC6TVI, out”.
“Thank you Terry—Hello, My name is Chuck Marble, Amateur Radio Call Sign; KE6OAG, located in Patterson. Let me tell you all about this exciting Net. SARA SpaceNet was born in 1997, as the result of persistent suggestions by Don, AB6AE—now Silent Key. Don knew of my public presentations on Astronomy—and felt there was enough interest by local Hams to justify the development of a net, dedicated to Astronomy and Space Science. Well, Don was right!
In June of 1997, a weekly space science aerospace, rocketry and amateur satellite Ham Radio network—called “SpaceNet”, was introduced to the Central Valley—and carried on The Stanislaus Amateur Radio Association’s WD6EJF 2-meter repeater.
SpaceNet meets each week to share the latest in space science news—and most of all, to have fun.—Standby one, Let me reset the Machine)
Our members include aerospace and science professionals, but most of us are simply people with a strong interest in space. When SpaceNet began in June of ‘97, we had planned for it to take place monthly. In fact, our first Net took place just days before the NASA JPL’s historic Pathfinder mission, that landed on Mars—and everyone became very interested in space exploration; (—looks like that SpaceNet came at exactly the right time)! Because interest in SpaceNet was so strong during our first broadcast, we immediately decided that it would be a weekly event. We started on Wednesday evenings and soon had moved to Fridays, where we’ve been ever since.
As an example of our activities on how the Net is conducted; the April 4th 2003edition had marked the 300th installment of SARA SpaceNet! Generally, o net starts at 8 O’clock on Friday nights—and we generally cover the week’s top stories in space science, including astronomy, solar weather conditions, with WB6BJN’s weekend propagation predictions, as well as occasional special presentations, or guest interviews, (often with NASA personnel)!
We also take check-ins for the week. This usually takes up the first hour of the net. Then at about nine O’clock, we go round the net, and have open discussions. Our nets usually run until about 10 pm, unless we are discussing a really hot topic (; in fact, SpaceNet has run as late as 12 midnight)! (Re-setting once again)
New listeners are always welcome to check-in—and you’ll find that SpaceNet is an informal net. There are no dues and few rules (just follow good operating practices and have fun). No one needs to stay for the entire net, but most do.
We’ve linked SARA’s 2 Meter Repeater with its Six-Meter machine, allowing greater coverage for some SpaceNet Broadcasts. In fact, SpaceNet now has more than 250 members, as well as six Net Controls that take turns hosting the net from week to week. Our Net Controls are Patrick; KG6AZZ, Mark—WB6BJN, Terry—KC6TVI, Bruce—KE6ULQ, John—NN6E—and myself—KE6OAG. Being legally blind, Mark and Terry work as a team when they have Net Control for the week.
On those months that have five Fridays, we usually have a five-way Team Net Control on that fifth Friday night of the month ‘—and (those editions of SpaceNet are always interesting. (KE6 OAG, Standby)
Over the years, we’ve helped “hams” learn how to track satellites in Earth orbit; make their first satellite contacts, communicate with astronauts on board MIR—and the ISS, have their names placed on interplanetary spacecraft—and learn how to get started in Rocketry and Astronomy.
And as it is, several SpaceNet Net Controls now play key roles in my public Space Science and Rocketry presentations—thanks team! While all our Net Controls launch model rockets—and Patrick Bruce and myself, are indeed avid Model Rocketeers. John has taken it to a new level!
In 2002, John achieved his Level 1 and Level 2 high power rocketry certifications, allowing him to launch mid power and high power rockets at our events; including “J –through -E engines”. These are really big rockets!). John’s rocketry assortment and portable launch facilities/command center, are something to be seen. Some of his rockets are more than 7 feet tall—and can reach altitudes in excess of 5,000 feet—(—we obtain FAA clearance when we launch those puppies)!—standby one.
Now continuing—We Net Members, used to hold occasional pizza lunches and dinners, during the early days of Space Net, where we enjoyed media space science presentations with our group (and anyone else that wanted to join). These evolved into our current regime of public and private gatherings for rocket launches and space science presentations. We generally hold our public launches during the summer months, at the Patterson Community Sports Park which is on Ward Avenue in Patterson. We also host private launches for SpaceNet members (including other interested “hams” and their families), in the farmlands surrounding Robert, KD6BNY’s location in Farmington.
These are always fun events and usually involve BBQ’s and wide screen space science video presentations which are held In Robert’s barn (or, as we consider it, The “SpaceNet Dinner Theater). We Members also review the day’s launches on the wide screen system, including slow motion, close-up, down-range and under-pad camera views. We techies hope to add on-board TV cameras on our rockets in the near future!—Resetting, standby.
KE6OAG continuing—In both our public and private launches, we make extensive use of Ham, FRS and MURS radio—and we usually patch the range communications through the PA System, so spectators and participants always know what’s going on. It also gives us a chance to introduce Ham radio and the Stanislaus Amateur Radio Association—to the uninitiated!
Over the summers, with Patrick’s assistance on many occasions, we’ve continued to provide a series of monthly Astronomy in the Park presentations that are free to the public. These presentations usually take place from May, through September. With this, we bring telescopes, a multi-media projection/sound system, computers and many visual aids, to help the general public get started in the exciting hobby of Amateur Astronomy!
We Astronomer-types also track visible satellites—and often can help the public see, tracking across the sky, manned spacecraft, (like the Shuttle—and the International Space Station) while at these events.
In recent years, we’ve added live demonstrations of Amateur Radio Satellite communications, as well as showing everyone how to track the birds—and making contacts with other operators via satellite throughout the United States; including Canada, Mexico and sometimes Hawaii and Alaska. This allows us to display a real-world demonstration of space science technology in action! (Once again, resetting…)
This is Chuck,—KE6OAG, your Temporary Net Control, continuing—by special arrangements with the City of Patterson, our annual public Astronomy events take place at night, in the Patterson Community Sports Park. Astronomy in the Park events are usually well attended by SARA SpaceNet members, involving the general public.
We often feature special guest Astronomers that add their knowledge— and telescopes to the events. Once the presentations are complete, we keep the telescopes set up for public viewing, late enough for everyone who wants to stay. We also provide our live presentations to astronomy and science/technology organizations, including schools, scouts, churches and other Amateur Radio Clubs; this is done by advanced arrangement.
The overall schedule of public and private presentations and launches, are discussed during SpaceNet—and we will try to keep the schedule updated, on the SARA Club’s Web Site as well. Additionally, our public events are usually announced in The Patterson Irrigator—and the Modesto Bee. The public schedules can be obtained by calling the Patterson Recreation Department.
Back in 2003, I was honored to join an outstanding team of people, who bring the wonders of space science to the public throughout the nation. They are well-known as NASA Solar System Ambassadors –and are a form of public outreach. This group is managed by NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California. Each Ambassador is provided with excellent Instructional training regarding the latest NASA/JPL programs—and are provided with outstanding presentation materials, that relate to each topic.
These materials are specifically tailored for the Ambassador’s public presentations. This will allow us to provide up-to-the-minute news, using these excellent tools. As a matter of fact, they happen to be the ones of which had been presented throughout this year’s public events! (Resetting the machine, once again, standby
OK, continuing). During the years we’ve been on the air, we have lost several good friends and strong supporters of SpaceNet. While their Keys are now silent, their enthusiasm, friendship and memories live on in the hearts of SpaceNet members—and we wish to ensure they are never forgotten. Don, AB6AE, Steve, KD6YCB and Margaret, KF6AMO. We miss you all very much.
Finally, we must say proudly that SARA SpaceNet has been a fixture on our local Repeater for many years—and we wish to thank the membership and Board of directors of the Stanislaus Amateur Radio Association as they provided From the very beginning, their strong and unwavering support of SpaceNet. And I also would like to thank all our Net Controls, all our members, as well as Rick, KF6TEZ and Davona, KF6TSY for their past help with our many public presentations.—Well, that’s about it, in a nut-shell. So if there aren’t any questions I’ll turn the Net back over to Terry—KC6 TVI. Hearing none, this is Chuck, KE6 OAG… Out”.
It was by the end of 2010, that we the “SpaceNet” Team had unbelievably celebrated our Net’s 700th edition, reminiscing the past broadcasts and welcoming those who have since joined the fun. During that particular anniversary session, an interview made by our own Chuck Marble—KE6 OAG, had been originally done just after a presentation given by Shuttle Astronaut Doctor George “Pinkie Nelson. Chuck then interviewed him. So the Recording of the interview was replayed during the recent Net’s Broadcast commemoration.
I thought it was a real treat hearing the recording of myself, asking the famous Astronaut about “blindness—and how this may relate to the Vestibular System’s readjustment to the micro-gravity environment. Dr. Nelson was intrigued by the depth of my question, but wasn’t certain that he could honestly provide an adequate answer. However, with a nostalgic view stemming from the SpaceNet group—and as we all look to the future.—I think that it would be neat to bring our Space Net to the Broadband community, via the Internet. This would involve Linking the Repeater System to the Web, using video contacts as We Hams explore yet a new avenue; thereby working the so called “radio art” and pushing it into even a higher dimension .
14.3. Space Video Library
In earlier chapters I alluded to the fact that I had started to collect audio recordings of space events, as they were broadcast over the three major television networks; namely, ABC, NBC and CBS News. At the time there wasn’t any kind of Video format that was made available for consumer electronic gear. However today, we are readily aware of the ever-present, compact Videocassette tape—and the newer DVD discs—and also the portable Digital Storage Devices—along with sophisticated recording software; but back in 1968, this was all new.
At the time, I was intrigued over A Life Magazine cover article that described the coming Beta and VHS and Video Tape Player/Recorders—these things were largely unheard of, way back then. The Life Magazine article had portrayed these enervations as novel concepts; and so we all waited with baited breath for them to come to market. The VHS form eventually took hold, at least for the next 35 years, until “digital solutions took over; where consumer fervor for the medium now remains legendary.
Apollo 11—The Main Event
All through those years, covering Projects Mercury, Gemini and Apollo, I had spooled off many hours of audio recordings, of the live historic events of the early years of the US Space Exploration programs. This of course had led inexorably to the Moon Landings.; Yet many will agree that the most anticipated event of all, was that of Apollo 11, the first Lunar Landing;—and I was determined to get it all on tape; but, wouldn’t you know it! Back then, in 1969, our TV goes on the blink—what to do? The answer was in my mind to simply camp out with my oldest Sister Cathy, at her house. After arriving at their home earlier that previous evening; also armed with a slew of audiocassette tapes I became an imposing fixture—ensconced in front of my Sisters family 19-inch portable color TV set.
There I was—Sleeping on the couch next to the coveted TV. I had even gotten up at two in the morning to record the live Apollo 11 pre-launch coverage; starting with the NBC Network broadcast, with Frank Magee –and his stirring opening; this is how it all started…
“Cape Kennedy Florida, July 16th, 1969. There it stands—36 stories tall, the most complex device ever built; and it dwarfs everything that has gone before; with its first stage alone—delivering seven and a half million pounds of thrust. It has a name, the Saturn Five -–and a mission that boggles the mind—a journey to the Moon.
The scene is now familiar. The procedures are routine. The three men sealed inside their Spacecraft, though quite large appears tiny at the tip of the rocket. These brave men, Neil A Armstrong, Edwin “Buz” Aldren and Michael Collins will travel only nine miles farther than ever before. Yet all of us watching this –-and that includes more people that have ever seen a single event, are aware of the strange and wondrous nature of this voyage.
In the millions of years since Earth and Moon have revolved in space together—and in the thousands of years since Man has walked upon Earth; no one has gone from the Earth to another celestial body; but now, the moment is near -–as the incredible, will now become creditable”.
So it was in this dreamy early Morning, sitting close to the television—I was beginning to feel the increasing drama mounting, from all of the excitement of the TV coverage to come.
Of course, that would be through the well-known principal Networks. They would be broadcasting to the whole World, as all of us, as vicarious travelers acting as both witness and judge over the fantastic journey to unfold, before our very eyes. And all of us would be waiting for the Mission’s final outcome—“; watching History happen—for better or worse”.
This was most certainly the case concerning the major focus; being the really big moment, the marathon Television Network offerings of the landing” of Eagle -–followed by the “moonwalk”. And of course there would be Walter Cronkite’s CBS News Coverage, including Waly Schirra, as special guest Commentator. However, beginning with their colleague Charles Kuralt. And as it happened, Mr. Kuralt began to describe the “creation” of the Solar System, which actually had begun their “”Walter to Walter” Landing coverage”. This provided those inspiring opening lines by Kuralt, for the historic 31 hour Broadcast; here are his summarizing remarks:
“As we look back through Space and Time -–and the origins of the Moon, we may be in part contemplating our own existence. Were it not for the Moon and its effects it had on the creation of the Earth, Mankind might not be on this Planet at all, gazing into that luminescent face on countless nights—and reaching out for her, on this day ; July 20th 1969”.
Neil Armstrong would even say, in an interview just before his date with the Moon–- “The Moon had been waiting for its visitors for a long time”. However, a cynical rejoinder coming from Norman Mailer, from his book of the Moon-shot -–saying in print –-“Presumably, even if the Moon were listening, she would remark, ‘Of what can you possibly dream,—I’m battered beyond belief –and yet, you think to violate me now?” still, while describing the complexities of the actual difficulties of the Landing, Mailer says—“according to the Flight Controllers—“that it’s more like all the confidence that a one-eyed man could give to a blind man, while going down a dark alley”. Wow, how well can identify with that!
Yet again it was with such anticipation, that by day 5, July 20 –-even on this most memorable day, that of the Moon landing; my Sister’s family wanted me out of their house, at least to get some air, which was about an hour or so after the touch-down. That was of course before the Moonwalk, which surprisingly had come only some six hours later. We then had enough time to move the small Color TV to our Parent’s home; making it possible for all the family to witness the lunar excursion together.
In fact, my youngest brother Tom was celebrating his 10th Birthday, which happens to be on that most auspicious day. Landing on the Moon is now recorded as the greatest single human achievement ever; but little Tommy didn’t grasp—and couldn’t appreciate the magnitude of this “moon-thing. Birthday and Baseball were just too important—and not to be missed. However, to my great disappointment, my audio cassettes ended up being of poor quality—and some of the tapes even broke when using them. The machine hadn’t been very good either, because the technology of that time was still new; but overall I cherished all of these tapes and played them incessantly over the years—wearing them and their associated playing equipment out”.
Some years later, when still Married to Judy, while living in Sacramento, she and I were shopping at the Southgate Mall, and wouldn’t you know it, we stumbled upon a gathering of eager patrons wanting to see a special guest, who happened to be none other than Former Mercury Astronaut Scott Carpenter. I was thrilled to receive a signed autograph picture of him, wearing his silver spacesuit. We found that Astronaut Carpenter at that time, was traveling the Country and informing people about the new Space Shuttle Program.
When it was my turn to speak with the famous Astronaut, I eagerly told him about all the early audio tape recordings that I had made over the years. Now in considering the chance meeting, I felt that this was indeed a tremendous privilege, actually being there, shaking his hand before we departed—and wishing Astronaut Carpenter all the best.
14.4. “Encore Colombia”!
Just before the advent of the Space Shuttle Program, I started to transfer those prized open-real spool recordings, to the more convenient cartridge audio cassettes. Then later, as the highly anticipated April 1981 first manned launch of the Space Shuttle Columbia—as things were finally gearing-up; my dad kindly had recorded from his new expensive VHS Machine, the Shuttle launch and landing broadcasts. He was doing this especially for me, because, at the time, I was away living in Sacramento up to my ears with details involving the Business Enterprise Program—and all those Cafeteria problems. While at Work, warren Coffeen, the Building Manager brought in a television set for all of us to watch that historical maiden flight.
It was The Mission that was being billed as the world’s first space-plane, fool of promise—that of opening-up the realm of low-earth orbital flight, first to Astronauts—and eventually to average people. Indeed, as one of those so-called average individuals, I actually got to see STS 6 land at Edwards Air Force Base, which was not so far for me, in California’s Mojave Desert. Also I was glad to tag along with my good friend Terry Seals. This had been just one year after I returned to Modesto.
Moreover, my friend Terry who was living down in Exeter, was proud of his Classic 1955 automobile, a vintage Packard; that thing had no reverse in it. -–I remember that as partially seeing guys and having but, two eyes between us—and neither one of us seeing very well had cautiously made our way south—driving into the Desert twilight; remembering now that it had been actually on April 8 of that year. So there I was, riding in the car —a back seat driver, and armed with a hand-held scope—meant to scan for the Shuttle as it barreled toward its targeted landing at Edwards.
Along the way I attempted to read street signs by using the scope—scanning for Highway signs and halfway guessing at what I was seeing; by some miracle we arrived in one piece. Terry and I were some five miles from the Shuttle’s landing point, where we carefully parked the car. We had to strategically station the vehicle so that other cars wouldn’t hem us in, because we weren’t able to maneuver in reverse.
The two of us spent the night in the cool Wendy desert, listening to local weather reports on the radio, dozing occasionally—and trying to stay awake. Both of us that night had heard in the dark the masses of people arriving. It was like the assembly of a large Military invasion, with the excitement beginning to build in the early dawn.
We then found that the friendly throng of eager space enthusiasts, just like us, were all busying there selves, munching snacks, swopping stories and purchasing Space memorabilia. We visitors on the Air Force Base were of course all jockeying for position to be ready for the big moment. My friend Terry and I noticed that the local HAM Radio group—the Mt Diablo Club got permission to patch into the NASA audio feed. We fellow spectators passed the time hearing the last few hours of the mission —and I even had a cassette recorder near one of the loud speakers, with sand blowing everywhere—the wend buffeting the tri-pod that held the PA.
So after reviewing my recordings, finding that I had captured the ambient sounds and other effects of the wind whipping through the desert. It was picked-up by the little cassette recorders microphone, along with other interesting sounds of people milling about—and of course, hearing the NASA Commentary blending in, with the voices of Mission Control and that of the Astronauts; all this, adding excitement to the anticipation. However as it turned out I was only able to see the shadow of the Orbiter. It had passed over—gliding by, with its welcoming sonic boom –and making its final tern before landing.
The Shuttle vehicle once again, had racked up another successful flight; but in terms of the public view everyone was sadly duped (as it always is) and much too often was the case. More to the point, we had been falsely caught up with a sense of euphoria, that Space Travel was all becoming much, too easy. And this is exactly why we as a Nation, collectively (and always personally, will forever remember—by sharing the horrid memories of the well-chronicled Challenger, the January 1986 disaster. Sadly this debacle had led to the complacency of the so-called troubled NASA culture. In fact some nineteen years later, almost to the very day, our “Space Net team had by some strange happenstance had some members stationed in the foothills, who saw the February 1st, 2003 loss of Columbia; the vehicle breaking-up, a tragic public specter—just like the earlier Challenger Accident; whereupon this latest event had also violently killed the entire crew.
Thus it is by these similar factors that we can’t help but think that these two-piloted ventures, bravely soaring into the unknown, were again mighty efforts intended to push back the Space frontier. This often reminds me of a reverently written Poem, dedicated to all like-minded aviators, which was a beautiful poetic expression, penned by British flyer John Gillespie Magee Jr.
I say this, because recently while doing some further research on the background concerning the Poem, I had learned that it was back in 1941, where tragically, Airman Gillespie Magee had suddenly perished in a mid-air collision—just eleven days before he wrote these immortal words. , Here is his offed-quoted lines presented—yet again for your consideration.
High Flight
“Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth—And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of
Wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence. Hovering there, I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung my eager craft through footless halls of air….
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue, I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace. Where never lark or even eagle flew—and, while with silent lifting mind—I’ve trod the high trespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand, and touched the face of God”.
With all this in mind we must remember along with those two separate Shuttle tragedies alone, NASA had lost fourteen highly trained Astronauts; (this had not even included the horrid memory of the Apollo fire, killing Gus Grissome, Ed White and Roger Chaffee in 1967) in an accident on the Pad. Still all of this certainly underscores the fact that spaceflight will always be a dangerous proposition, no-matter what kinds of safeguards are defined and engineered, within the design of each mission -–and by which the manor they are ultimately flown. Yet it might be prudent for us to think of the marvelous training for such Missions; comparing this, in some manner to the common rigors and vicissitudes of those that deal with physical limitations, including Visual Impairment.
A good example of this would be a common link between the Astronaut Training methods that use specifically designed equipment, in order to achieve defined goals; and comparing that to those who happen to require Special Needs; which mainly involves managing physical barriers at home and else ware. Along with this, I have attempted to illustrate the use of such specialized gadgets for the Blind , like those of which are described in this Volume; comparing these various methods in a way which is similar in nature, which are used in the field of Astronautics.
And so it is that we may find where “Disabled” individuals often require a high degree of problem solving and daily skill mitigation; using the highest standards of specialized devices, translating into measures of accuracy to balance out the limitations of those physically limited functions. However as a matter of cores, just like in the demanding environment of the Astronaut, braving the unforgivable element of Space. So still along these lines just as in the Astronaut Training, we find for the benefits of folks with “Special Needs”, this sort of thing usually involves using alternative methods of approach, especially in the pre-planning phase prior to making various trips to unknown or unfamiliar places.
Further, I have found through personal experience that Blind and Disabled people, Just like Astronauts, must take some calculated risks along the way. Whatever the case, by using this kind of ingenuity, we all throughout Society in a general sense can learn to use these approaches on a daily basis.
Now to the subject of “digitally capturing these Space events—something for which to treasure forever. It is fair to say that with the ever-increasing complexity of each flight. With the constant availability of satellite TV, allowing for NASA Television broadcasts of uninterrupted mission coverage, thus enabling the average person to vicariously enjoy each flight as it unfolds.
Yet we don’t readily recognize this fact—that it is mainly due to the “Freedom of Information Act; so we can still thank our “lucky stars” that such broadcasts remain free to the public—and also, that this all could be recorded on Video. However, years ago, this wasn’t always the case. Yet this was quite evident back in 1990, because I had been captivated by seeing a NASA TV feed for the first time, experiencing this with my buddy Jim Breitenfeld, who invited me over as a guest at his parent’s Dairy Ranch.
Jim and I were all keyed-up to watch the pending spectacle on his TVRO, Satellite system. We were two guys out in the boondocks, counting-down with the cows, and waiting for the launch of the Hubble Space Telescope, that ultimately had been carried aboard this particular Shuttle Mission. Both of us were up all night, watching this on a wide-screen projection TV. The picture-quality was a bit snowy, because of a bad angle for the reception from the Satellite Dish Antenna. At any rate—I Of course had a VHS recorder handy and was set to capture the event. The Launch was early in the morning—so afterward, Jim and I had to hurry to catch a bus, to get to the bowling alley.
But looking back somewhat incredulously, totaling-up all of these VHS recordings (many of them running six and eight hours at a stretch) all that had numbered over a thousand individual cassettes. It was grueling making those recordings to say the very least—and then having to carte all of them around when it was time to move from place to place. Over this twenty-year period in my life, I must have moved ten times through those momenta’s years. But by now, thanks to archive ability from the Internet, because it is no longer necessary for me to hold such a vast amount of material on Tape; and also due to the fact that All That “Space” archived stuff is on-line—and is now nicely organized—thanks to NASA, and especially for NASA TV viewers.
In addition to this, over the past fourteen years, a private Company known as Spacecraft Films, has (and for that matter) is still providing hundreds of hours of unedited archival re-digitized film footage, of mainly those of Projects Mercury, Gemini and Apollo -–and including Shuttle Missions. Now all That material is digitally cleaned up and enhanced—and in a real sense is making the early Space Program come to life; thus preserving a National treasure; presenting it in a way never before seen by the public. So I eagerly await each installment on Disc—seeing “space” as never before—and without the filter of the media.
By the way –I will always treasure the complete, unedited linier-digital presentation of the Mission of Apollo 11—“To the Moon, by Mark gray’s Company, of Spacecraft Films fame. He even has planned to supply many of these kinds of Products to be viewed through the new form of specially designed Software Applets, streaming via portable devices.
And still another Internet outlet is now available through “You Tube’s” domain, by way of the extensive postings from a great many “space enthusiasts”. These devotees also are enthralled over being able to share with others, their audio and video recordings, such as Network TV Coverage of the early space Missions. And further, NASA itself is at long last releasing the entire Audio Archival Digital holdings, of all their Manned Space Flights, as they actually occurred—presenting them in a “Web friendly” format. These include Projects Mercury, Gemini and Apollo, as well as, Skylab, Shuttle and Station Missions.
In fact, you will soon be able to vicariously listen to each Mission (including “Flight Director Loop recordings”) and their associated Press Briefings in their entirety.
Eventually the Video along with the Audio will be “hooked” into high definition full-length recordings; this of course is a veritable boon for space enthusiasts. A good example of these techniques is the Ben Feist offering, providing a complete tabloid of the entire Audio/Video presentation of the Mission of Apollo 17. The rendering of the Mission takes a total of over 305 hours with streamed eight hour segments each. So People now can get quite an insite into what we veterans experienced during the heyday of the US Space Program. But so much for the musings of the past.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Life Turns On a Dime”
During the ladder period of the time while living with Mark, I was casually introduced to a friend by way of a mutual co-worker from the ILC, Sharon Bias. Sharon thought that an acquaintance of hers’—a woman named Teresa; that she would be someone that I may be interested in. Actually it was the case that Teresa and I chatted on the phone on a regular basis over several months, before we actually met in person. Thus in the Corse of our conversations, she and I agreed that the City of Merced, would be a small enough town that Nickolai and I could navigate about without much difficulty. It became evident that the snarled traffic conditions in Modesto was becoming ridiculous. So at any rate I was thinking about looking for a different community; one that would be laid-out in such a way where could be reasonably traversed on foot.
Also as things were, Teresa happen to be living in the Swiss Colony Apartments in Merced—and the neighboring complex, the Casa Del Rio had a unit, that was becoming available; so in March 2001, I made the leap toward a new community—and whatever awaited me; though this ended up to be a fateful, yet positive turn of events. However, these events were not at all what I was expecting. The reality was that Teresa simply represented a catalyst that caused me to end up –in the wright place at the right time; and for an entirely different arrangement. But at this point as far as she and I were concerned, the seemingly ostensive relationship between us had crumbled before it actually got started.
As things were, we together weren’t the right cup of tea as they say. Although Teresa shared the common fact of being partially sighted; yet there was some mutual empathy relating to this particular fact, but otherwise, there was nothing much else that really attracted her toward me. However on my part, I was excited about the possible prospect; but I think it’s safe to say, that a woman generally has better intuition toward these matters.
So As all the busyness of moving to Merced unfolded, the first day for me was somewhat confusing, because With all of this occurring, it happened that my neighbor who was an inebriated old lady, had Wright in front of my Sister Jacky, attempted to grab me, sloppily kissing me—and then had the gumption to invite me to come inside with her. As I thought to myself—what a welcome”! And as one might guess this particular scene evidently had started a rumor mill; of which had spawned all sorts of innuendoes, which largely had something to do with my blindness; and also due to the fact that I was a single man.
So it seems that I had suddenly found myself in an enclave of jilted, frustrated women, who liked to gossip; thereby making life for me for a time a horrid mess. Further, I was caught quite unaware, at least in the first few weeks when simply making some friendly, tentative overtures; Still it seemed that people were reading into my actions incorrectly. With this stigma haunting me—I was nonetheless marked as a lonely guy. Some of the neighbors would actually utter under their breath, “he’s a “blind pervert.” And they also said that I was pretentious; but all of that was based upon their lack of understanding, generally having to do with basic social ignorance regarding “Visual impairment.”
15.1. A French Twist
Such as it was—while in the midst of the upheaval; and yet still somewhat warily, I became acquainted with a guy who had an interest in sketching and painting. His name was Dino Auger -–a Frenchman, who was roughly my age; and I was surprised that he was not at all bothered over the fact that I couldn’t see very well. Dino was instead more intrigued by my particular depth of understanding which basically involved each of those particular artistic skills that intrigued him. So Dino was quite glad to solicit some of my insight, regarding his individual projects. Then I quickly found that he liked to cook—so he invited me to try out some of his creations. Dino’s European flare was habit-forming, so we became fast-friends.
At some point while getting to know one another, Dino said that his Sister Lucienne would be visiting from France—and that she would be staying for a few months. Lucienne arrived in late May—and I noticed that she always wore a dress which these days, seemed different; and that she was also wearing a fragrance of fine French perfume. Lucienne spoke broken English, but was easily understood.
She said her real name was actually Lucienne Al Cousch-Ironi -–but liked to be simply called Lucy, in the American style. Along with all of that—I found her fun, bright and altogether a refreshing personality. Although as things stood within the Family, Dino, along with the rest of the Family—as an endearment had given her the name “Lulu.” Lulu was nearly as tall as I was; about five foot nine. She was blue-eyed, with hair color nearly like my own; light brown,—and wen seen in bright sunshine—would then capture reddish blond highlights.
Early on I noticed that Lucy wore French braids, which included delicate looped earrings. Eventually I would call these “Lulu-loops”. However Lucy just like Dino, was a natural when cooking French cuisine. It seemed that every late afternoon we would sit down to wonderful Mediterranean fare; and eventually we invited the other occupants of the complex from time-to-time to dine with us. This actually represented an attempt on our part to soften the abrasive ambiance among those of whom we had particular issues with.
And then I discovered that Lucy and Dino knew several languages, including Egyptian. Their Dad named Musba, who had been throughout his long Career worked as an International Correspondent. He was actually from the Country of Syria, of the region known today as Lebanon. In his travels, he tended to move-around quite frequently, so their “patois” was actually a combination of Arabic and French, mixed with American slang. So as things generally were, Lucy happened to be in the middle of a Divorce. Over the years, she and her previous husband, whose name is Victor Ironi; over the years had worked for Mobile Oil. They acquired a small Service Station and had for years devoted many exhaustive hours working in Paris -–and eventually purchased a Filling Station, along with an Automobile cleaning and detailing garage, which also had a tire and tune-up service.
Victor, who was an expert Mechanic had done all the Auto work. But in addition to this (out of Customer convenience) The Service Center included a mini-mart. Ultimately these business ventures had led to become quite lucrative. Further, these establishments were developed in the posh City of Versailles—and included the City of Paris itself. And all of this had transpired over a twenty-six year period. So over this time they raised a small family, which included two sons. They were named Sebastian—at the time was age twenty-three, while their other Son, Frederick, who was by then nineteen years old. The Kids over the Years, remained very close to their Parents and eventually learned great Business skills of their own. The boys had fortunately planned to move out on their own, as their beautiful home was being sold according to the terms of their Parent’s pending Divorce.
15.2. Lucienne, “Where Were You
Twenty-five Years Ago”
Thus it had been over the course of our social visits, where Lucy and I gained a somewhat silent admiration toward each other. I really sensed her warmth toward me; Later Lucy said that she was attracted to my “lovingly green eyes.” This little attribute was often quite evident in Lucy’s mind, but mainly had to do with my basic way of dealing with other people. More specifically this had to do with how Lucy felt toward the way I dealt with her unwieldy English-speaking skills; though Lucy actually did very well in this regard. She had a beautiful French/Lebanese accent—and it took only a bit of patients on my part to follow her conversations. So when speaking English Lucy needed only to practice. Furthermore, she explained that she learned French, Arabic and English while in school.
I also discovered that while they were growing up, Lucy and her Brother Dino had in their youth, actually lived in Switzerland, when they were infants—and had been dropped at an Orphanage; eventually their Turkish Grandma rescued them. And then still as youngsters they had lived in Egypt for three years, both of them surviving Typhoid Fever; ending up in Lebanon for a total of fourteen years; and so actually had witnessed firsthand the street-to-street up-risings—and the common lack of City-wide deprivation which at the time had been merely a daily existence; as their Family had been cloistered in a basement.
Still, Lucy as an adult, with a family to raze, had mostly lived in Normandy and Paris—and by this time had lived just outside of Versailles, in France. And thus tending to their Filling Stations, she and Victor were working long hours, thereby making a decent living. In the meantime, Dino had decided to come to the United States in 1979, as a Foreign Exchange Student learning to fly helicopters. He eventually became a US Citizen over that intervening period.
So it was by now that the three of us had found one another in Merced—at this faithful juncture in each of our lives. And fondly remembering that it was way back in mid-June 2001, as we wandered over to a local Mexican restaurant, called Chevies. We proceeded to cut our way through some bushes—ignoring some of the sidewalks; Dino –-particularly (in his vary French way) had casually picked fresh gardenias, putting one in his Sister’s hair.
And it was in this very moment, just as I drew close to Lucy’s face, evidently trying to see the flower— unconsciously smelled its fragrance. Lucy by then had noticed this; then as I had found out later, that she was hoping privately that my actions, would somehow represent some form of a romantic gesture on my part, but she wasn’t quite sure about what I was actually feeling. But by Then we had arrived at The Mexican restaurant.
I noticed that the place was dimly lit, therefore couldn’t see hardly at all; however soon the delicious appetizers arrived. So in this dimmed setting, it seems that I was having trouble dipping into the picante sauce. Lucy thought I’d starve if she didn’t help. She said, “Open your mouse”—I had no “mouse”, but I indeed had a mouth; so I sheepishly complied. Then Dino casually had stepped out for a smoke; then Lucy in that particular instant had begun acting in a sly way, playing this coquettishly; truthfully, in my own mind, I secretly loved every bit of this dimly-lit romantic moment.
Then it was just a few days later when Lucy wanted some exclusive time with me, based on the pretext of inviting herself over to see my artwork, saying that she had a surprise for me. –so I in return, thought to offer her a cup of fresh coffee from my new Coffee Machine. Now, we were suddenly alone. I really thought that Lucy was saying good-bye, but in reality she was saying hello; yet in my own mind was thinking this romantic scene actually had more to do with the fact that she had to leave for France, which was already scheduled within the next few days.
To top this off; I was planning to go out of state the following day, for a total of ten days in order to help bring Mother back to Utah, where she was living at the time. So a harmless good-bye kiss coming from Lucy was certainly in order; however just how far this would go—I was not exactly sure. Yet still the same there were passions coming from each sides of the Atlantic Ocean—figuratively speaking all this had roared over us; and so we knew instinctively that these feelings were for real. The two of us stayed-up nearly all night in bed, making love -–and sharing our life stories together. Then we (by a sense of a form of obligation based upon certain circumstances were thereby required to be apart—maybe forever. The main question in our minds; was this a quick French fling –or what?
The next day was totally unreal. This happened to be the very day that I was planning to retire my Good-ole dog Nick; so I was extremely sadden over this situation —having to let poor Nickolai go. But that large decision was mostly based out of compassion, due to the dog’s advancing pain, brought about by his “hip Dysplasia.
Further, the exasperating fact was that my Guide of nine years couldn’t even make it up the flight of stairs, where Dino’s apartment was located. So Nick would rather play by the pool area, resting in the shade and watching the kids from the Complex splash about. Also when Thinking about all this later, I was perhaps too quickly transferring my love and deep trust from Nickolai to Lucy; the sudden parting from both was absolutely heart-wrenching.
For instance, I became quite rattled -–and had hastily stuffed a Braille note containing Dino’s phone number into my luggage—so that Lucy and I could at least talk on the phone, when I was in Utah; but “haste makes waste…” I had inadvertently grabbed the wrong page from my mess of papers on the desk; then suddenly it was time to depart. My Sisters Claudia and Jacki along with my Nephew Ian—with Mom in front, were all in the car, waiting for me, as I gave Lucy 1 more passionate kiss. And then I was off; although still feeling a torrent of emotions.
And so while we all were leaving Merced, cruising onward to Utah, we were able to swing through Los Vegas; seeing the sparkling Casino strip all lit up through the late hours. Then finally reaching St. George at sunrise, which was near Zion National Park in southern Utah. We arrived at our destination, finding that Moms fully furnished home was a Model, part of the Country-club golf course project that she and her Brothers were developing in the area.
So throughout the week Claudia Ian and I together enjoyed the indoor swimming pool—and Tennis Court on the Property. Then, on one of the days of that one week stay, we all returned to Zion in order to see the beautiful monolith-like mountains, displaying their dazzling splendor; which was just forty-five miles away from the Housing Development. It had been also planned that on the way back from the trip, I was to be dropped off at Mark’s house in Salida, so we could be picked up for the annual HAM Radio Club’s “Field Day” activities. That was taking place in the California foothills. So in the long run, each of those short Trips proved to be a nice kind of get-away, as I got to breathe the fresh pine-mountain air.
This also gave me time to sort-out decisions concerning my new-found French flame, Miss Lucy. Of course, I was worried about her feelings that mostly had to do with the fact of accidently leaving the all-important phone number. Why didn’t I try harder, tracking down Dino’s listing, so I could know exactly what actually was going on?
Then When I found out later that Lucy had decided to remain another week or so—thereby forfeiting her stop to see her Lebanese, half-Sister, Noshauwa, who was living with her family on Long Island, in New York. And so Lucy had remained with Dino to greet me when I returned home.
However by now, suddenly in a daze, I had forgotten to fill a prescription, for a problem concerning my Thyroids; having developed hyper-thyroids a year earlier—I wasn’t able to sleep more than three hours at a time. Now sweating with tremors –and not being able to think straight. At one point, as Mark and I got off the Train when returning to my home in Merced—for the life of me, I could not even remember Lucy’s name. Despite the flaky feeling, being without the Thyroid pills, Mark and I precariously attempted to drag our bulky luggage along, as we made our way the few blocks to the Apartment Complex.
Soon a little red car began to follow us; the occupants were honking the horn. It was someone calling after us. That turned out to be Dino; he was saying, “hay Terry-man”, over here”. There was someone there with him. To my surprise it was Lucy—but what to do. Of course, I didn’t want Lucy to know that I was in this foggy condition—and that I at that moment couldn’t remember her name. So in the car I had remained taciturn—purposefully aloof. Then after the short drive Mark and I beat a hasty retreat when exiting the vehicle, to get to the Pharmacy, in order to fill the Prescription.
I desperately needed to get some food into my system; doing this while at the same time, explaining everything to my longtime friend Mark Lemmons; and also, just as soon as I could, I wanted desperately to tell all to Lucy, What actually was happening. Thankfully with the medicine, my Thyroid symptoms started to calm; then Lucy and I were finally alone at my Apartment. However to my greatest fears, Lucy was indeed hurt. It proved difficult to discuss things with the language barrier; but together, we took great care patiently, working through our emotions. Lucy wanted to stay the night with me, but I had Mark staying with me for a few days -–and I was a bit reticent, about casually throwing him on the couch while Lucy and I were making-up for lost time, in the Bedroom.
Mark graciously stayed upstairs with Dino, most of that first night—and over the next couple of days he had begun to understand Lucy’s personality. She was not simply playing around. —I was taking a risk, of course, which is my way with women, I suppose; but such as life or c’est la vie—as they c’est in France.
15.3. “Ah—Mushrooms” –
Or “Le Champignon”
As it had been earlier mentioned, I said that Dino was quite the Chef. He at one point noticed wild mushrooms growing about the landscape surrounding the Apartment area. Dino was certain that the ones he plucked from the ground, were the variety he was accustomed to; but it takes only one bad one to spoil the lot. And it was certainly the case on this occasion, which involved Sautéing these lovely Mushrooms as an appetizer—and tasting them were wonderful; but proved to be nearly deadly;
Within the hour, I was feeling very weak. —I remembered Cumming downstairs to go swimming, but then felt quite nauseous, pail and sweating; quickly making a B-line to the toilet. Then, for the next five hours, I found myself rife with severe vomiting—and diarrhea; spewing from both ends simultaneously, like a big dragon—or was it like the cartoon character—“Seymour, the sea-sick sea serpent”.
Lucy heard the commotion and quickly came to my rescue; but she only laughed at the big mess that surrounded me. She could not find the Wright English words to describe what she was seeing. That simply infuriated me, as I exploded like “ole’ faithful” –every twenty minutes. Lucy soon was busy nursing both Dino and I, for the rest of the day. Then toward evening, I began to feel better—and was thankful that I did not die from food poisoning. A word to the wise, don’t ever pick wild mushrooms.
15.4. “We Started With a Broom
and a Bucket;”
According to Lucy’s Visa status, she had to return to France every three months, and then she was eligible to come back to the good-ole’ USA. Over time, it was becoming quite expensive—and Lucy was running out of savings. During that first year, I was very worried about her safety—flying back and forth to France, but she needed to settle her business affairs; and of course, there was still the finalization of the divorce.
At one point Lucy was gone for a period of five weeks, while she dealt with the unpleasant experience when visiting her father, who was severely ill, and dying of Cancer. However, over this critical time, all of that had actually been quite fortunate in the way things worked out, because Lucy was able to see her Dad before his death. So as it had been the case, Lucy became the main liaison for the Family, until her father had passed. His particular name was interesting, because, his name was Musbah Al Cousch; Musbah, actually means, “Lantern” in Arabic. It is also interesting to note that Lucy’s given name, Lucienne”, roughly translated, means “light”, thus spawning the idea that light comes from a lantern. And as I had already said; that all turned out for the best, because Lucy at least knew how to help with the final arrangements for his burial. But for me waiting throughout those unbearable weeks, I was glad to see her safely back arriving from France.
However, toward the end of the year, during this period while living within the Apartment Complex; it had been quite evident that a few of the neighbors were still in the business of spinning more roomers—saying that Lucy was staying with me, living rent-free. She was in fact staying with Dino during this time.
But the Apartment Manager sided with the disagreeable crowd—and had the audacity to call the Housing Authority, where I held a “Section 8” Certificate. I was extremely surprised that the Section 8 Supervisor ruled against me, even when I had properly forewarned the Housing Agency, a bit earlier concerning the pending problem. And for the three of us, this was the last straw; so without haste we confronted the Apartment Manager. Then after the Manager had heard our argument and not wanting any more hassles from us, she had promptly issued both Dino and I a thirty-day notice; It became apparent that we had to move out the day before Christmas; but fortunately, we landed new quarters at the Summer Trace Apartment Complex, off of Devenwood Avenue, in Merced.
And so as things began to settle, Dino took a nearby apartment; just imagine, it had been only eleven months from the moment Lucy and I had met. Also this was about the time when Lucy had surprised me with an eighteen-karat Gold necklace, which included a “Leo the Lion Charm”. The date of our meeting was thoughtfully inscribed on the back; so the memorable day of June 14th 2001, will always be regarded as a special day. We were then married on May 9, 2002, in Beautiful Tahoe, in a cute little Church, with Dino as the Witness.
Obviously it was quite apparent to Lucy and me—that if we were going to start a new life with each other, we needed to figure out a way of earning money in order to build a proper future together. Lucy by now had become a “Documented Émigré”—and with my help she was busy working toward her US Citizenship. With this, we both sought council from what we thought was an Immigration Lawyer; and for several months, we had been waiting for Mathew Tuttle, our Lawyer, to return our original documents. This included the proper forms dutifully filled out, so we could process them through the local Immigration Office in Fresno.
Yet all these things appeared strangely suspicious; this had started with a flurry of phone calls and aborted meetings with Mr. Tuttle. Then Lucy and I suddenly found ourselves in a quandary, which lasted several agonizing months of Legal litigation. Along with this, there were various accusations, Cumming from Tuttle himself, like (quote) –-“Terry “was smuggling Lucy into the Country, possibly against her will. At the Court Hearing, Mr. Tuttle had even said in front of the Judge, that we were “living in sin” -–and waved the Bible in front of the Judges nose, which was not at all appreciated by the Court. It was a big no-no! And in my mind, I thought of the old saying—“That went over like a turd in a punch-bowl”! Without a doubt,
Lucy and I ended up winning our suit against Tuttle, in Small Claims Court. And so based on the final Judgment, Mr. Tuttle had to give us (actually in his own handwriting) an official apology. That proved quite ironic, because of the litany of accusations leveled against us, which was again hurriedly written out in Tuttle’s own hand, then sent to us as a veiled threat. This particular list was actually submitted as evidence against him; and that was the very thing which had sealed the fate of “this buffoon”.
Then, Lucy and I were notified that Mr. Tuttle had been summarily disbarred from practicing Law in California, at least for the next five years; and the Local Authorities were certain to ensure that at least in this area, he could not ever function in any official capacity, ever again. Also we were fortunate to recover our original documents -–and were reimbursed for our initial Retainer fees, that served as a deposit. Overall, both of us in a way—had the guts to stand-up in front of a Judge, which ultimately had represented several others, of those that could not face this form of social ridicule.
Finally, we had gratefully received guidance from Catholic Charities, providing for such local services, which dealt with common immigration solutions. However, as far as looking for solutions for finding appropriate work, Lucy and I had carefully considered an idea, that involved establishing a self-employment scheme , which involved offering cleaning services to folks, who had “special needs”; This mainly started with those that were living within the new Complex;
So my Wife and I began posting several notices in the Laundry Rooms, that were situated around the Apartment Units, detailing what services we were willing to provide; these items included, washing, darning, ironing garments –and helping with shopping; these services also had included running other short errands -–and the like. Soon the new Manager had offered us a full-time Position for cleaning and maintaining all of her apartment Units, when they became available as a Rental.
It was then just after proving ourselves being prompt and reliable; that we had the foresight to obtain a Business License,—and naming our Business, “T L Miller’s In-home Cleaning Service”. And so over this time we developed a great rapport with other individuals, who each had held an Independent Contractor License for that type of work. And from time to time Lucy and I graciously gave the other workers various Leeds for Clients that resided outside the Complex.
Additionally, in order to ensure that we maintained a steady income, which also includes my Social Security, Lucy decided to supplement the cleaning Business, by applying through the “In-home Support Service, as a Worker” with the County. At any rate, both of these forms of Services were similar; but this new variation had been focused more toward dealing with mainly Elderly—and disabled folks, which involved performing shopping and light cleaning duties for each of their homes.
Generally as a rule I of course would help Lucy in any way I could. This usually involved regularly Cleaning-out vacant Apartments and also doing the necessary cleaning for each of the five Laundry Rooms, situated throughout the Apartment Complex.
All This eventually led to other facilities, such as cleaning during after-hours at Doctors’ Offices. For me personally, I had discovered that this kind of work was not at all a big problem for a blind-guy -–and I think that there is some degree of satisfaction with this. Both Lucy and I can now look back fondly over the intervening years, remembering that “We started all of this with just a broom and a bucket.”
15.5. Gaelic,
a Mismatched Companion:
When Lucy had to return to France, during the five-week stent when her Father passed-away, it had been over this period, that I thought in order To make this lonely time pass by more productively; It would be prudent to schedule myself to go back to the San Rafael, Guide Dog School for my third Dog. So when the time came, Dino and Lucy were able to drop me off at the Guide Dog Center, on their way to the International Airport, in San Francisco. This time, I wanted to try for a new crossbreed. But as it happened, I got more than I bargained for.
First of all, my Guide was a female, named Gaelic. She was a sleek, completely black and beautiful Lab/Retriever mix. The Dog proved to be very intelligent, but was much too independent. In fact my Trainer Kim Goams was always on my ass, already knowing that this would be a challenge for me, having to tone down—Miss Gaelic; although in short order I found that the Dog was a good worker, but wanted to be the “pack-leader” for the “String of dogs” of the entire Class. As events unfolded, Gaelic had become quite the up-start during the initial training process.
At one point she got away from me, causing an all-out “donnybrook”, requiring several Trainers from the Relieving Circle to corral her, along with the rest of the dogs that joined the fray, throughout those embarrassing and confusing moments.
Now finally At home, I had only a week or so to get Gaelic used to her new environment -–and then her nemesis Mrs. Lulu, had suddenly entered the new dog’s domain. We began to find that Gaelic did crazy things, like routinely jumping between the two of us, landing on our bed and not allowing Lucy near it.
My Wife and I quickly discovered that it was always a hassle, dealing with this worrisome dog. For instants, Gaelic, if off leash, would run away from me, looking for a kid with a toy, or some other diversion. As I said, she knew her Guide Work well enough, but clearly, this dog was not happy. “The real problem was that Miss Gaelic” had been in her own mind, relegated to being number three in our so called “families’ pack-order.” So as an example of this, without warning, Gaelic would in a doggie way, tried to mount us, clutching our backsides indiscriminately, exhibiting the need for dominance.
This behavior even happened from time to time at the school, but was treated in a cavalier way; the dog Trainers –saying “Oh, she will grow out of it”. We were really stuck with this situation for about a year, always struggling with the dog, then I finally decided to send Gaelic back for a final evaluation. The verdict was the dog had to be retired, because of not being able to adjust to a typical home environment—such as our own.
15.6. This New House:
After another year of Apartment living, Lucy and I were simply tired of being overly cloistered, living among various neighbors and not having our personal space; such as being surrounded by our own front and back yard. Although quite inferentially—I had noticed after living with my Wife for a while, that in a quaint way, French people simply refer to these” front and back areas as “their “Garden”. So at any rate Lucy and I looked for Realist ate Ads from the paper, but got better input through some co-workers and others in the Community.
Several months of searching did not yield anything that seemed appealing. Then in October 2003, one particular Realtor had off-handedly showed us a real home—something with definite class. This attractive home hadn’t been even posted in the Real-estate Ads. The house was a cute, fourteen-hundred square foot residence on a quiet avenue. It was in the “Bear Creek area, which was on Stonybrook Drive. These homes all had stylish tile roof designs—and the nice house we picked had a backyard that was undeveloped, though it was large enough for a swimming pool.
The interior was designed with a stylish open floor-plan that had merged the kitchen, dining and living area; this incidentally had a nice fireplace that gave an angled room effect, featuring lofted sealing’s for the living room –and master bedroom. The nicely angled layout through the jointed hallway, led one to the other two bedrooms, providing ample natural lighting for each of the rooms. This would be a highly desirable scheme, at least for me, which could give me some easy navigational comfort. So all in all, the home was an easy choice—and was within the proper price range for us.
Thus it had become over a five year period, Lucy and I made a number of property upgrades which included both interior and exterior amenities. We first started all of this by putting in a simulated gas log, for the fireplace—how cozy; but the large ticket items were things that involved landscaping the front and back yards. This even included the freeform style swimming pool, along with a red rock waterfall. At the same time, we added a redbrick looking patio, cement-style decking. In addition, a nice elderly man named Frank from across the street, had constructed a small housing unit for the pool filter equipment, roughly imitating the house design. Also, it was painted in the same colors of the home, which is a “sheep-skin” color with white trim. Then we added a set of French doors, replacing the sliding glass door leading to the patio.
Adding to these things we installed a new front door with etched glass –with a special rose design, allowing extra light to accentuate the view of the main living area. Then Lucy and I added white, in-line shudders, that had the effect of dressing-up all of the duel-Paine windows throughout the house. Next, we ripped-out the carpet from the living area and hallway, as we installed Pergo simulated wood Flooring. And yet if that wasn’t enough we furnished the home over this time with new living room and bedroom furniture, completing our little abode.
15.7. “SAFE Haven”!
Generally Lucy and I found that Along with the responsibilities of maintaining a household, it can often become a safe haven for other Family members. In fact this became the case concerning my Mom, as her advanced age and ensuing health issues was now a major concern for the entire Family. So things for Mom started to go downhill Wright after she returned from Utah. Mom reluctantly Moved back to her home on East Rumble Road, from Saint George, back in 1995, where it would be remembered (described in an earlier Chapter) that she had been quite busy, working on a joint project with two of her Brothers, designing a Country Club Golf Course styled Community.
However the rest of the Story was that eventually, Mom was deemed “too old” to continue with her work, mainly due to her failing eyesight; that of Corse was a demoralizing blow to her confidence and self-esteem. So, Mom suddenly found herself back in her home in Modesto, as she had been kept busy completing another remodeling job, on the entire aging Rumble Road property. But beginning in 2002, Mother had suffered a couple of Strokes, eventually having to stay with Family members, before she was finally admitted to “a “long term Care Facility. Each Stroke was about three years apart. The first of which was mostly recoverable, after a short Hospital stay. However in 2005, she sustained partial Paralysis in the Left arm. With some Physical and Speech Therapy, Mom regained some degree of Speech and Arm mobility.
So she initially was able to remain in her home for about four more years, which included ongoing help with personal and in home care, mainly from individual family support. Yet stubbornly Mom still tried to manage some degree of independence—as she reasoned that she could still maintain her own care. But over time, along with the second Stroke—and also through her apparent advancing age, the progression of her physical ailments caused the need to continually be monitored by family members.
And sadly, these other Strokes, such as the one occurring in 2007, had resulted in a more severe Speech-loss, causing greater frustration—and additional grief. Basically Mom had refused further Speech Rehabilitation. It was then deemed that she was no longer able to drive an automobile, or Shop at a Store independently.
Then in 2009, Mom, along with some financial support from the family, had moved to Vacaville California. She stayed in an adjacent Apartment near my Sister Jacki’s Unit. Through This idea initiated by Jacki, had given Mom at least some partial autonomy lasting an additional year; so still it had provided a better way for Mom to be supervised for safety reasons. However, after the yearlong effort, Jacki needed some “rest bit” from the constant care of her Mother -–Therefore it became necessary for Mom to move into our home in Merced; However this arrangement lasted for only five months. Then finally, it was discovered that Mom was unable to manage her own Prescriptions.
In addition, over these few Months Mom was diagnosed with a Moderate degree of progressive Dementia, caused by Alzheimer Disease. Further, it was thereby determined necessary by her Doctor, to prescribe a low dosage of Aricept -–and over these months, it had been increased sufficiently, enough so as to allow for the greatest degree of Cognitive ability, in order for her mental state to be maintained, as long as it would be possible. Yet overall, Mom’s Physical challenges became more and more evident. Her anger now had increased.
We all remember Years earlier, when she was able to balance herself, by grasping onto furniture; in like manner standing for a couple hours, with intervals of rest throughout the day. Ever since I can remember, my Mother was always an early riser, having a definite routine. But sadly, by refusing any formed of Eye Treatments, such as Cataract Surgery; tragically, with such consequences as these, she was forced to close her Business –and actually lost her Home through “Foreclosure. It was quite apparent to all of us that Mother would be no longer physically able to maintain her personal upkeep; and ever since her move to a Care Facility, which was mainly brought about by a serious subcutaneous stage four Ulcer, located on her Coxes. And further, due to severe dehydration, based upon the factor of not being able to remember to drink water.
Moreover, Mother continued to refuse our prompting and then became more angary, not wanting to take direction from her kids. After a sudden fainting spell—without protest, our Mother was transported to the Hospital for a week, in order to rebalance the electrolytes in her system. Yet this final episode allowed us to admit our Mother to a neighborhood Care Home, called the “Franciscan Home-care Facility,” in Merced. It would be in this kind of Facility, where Mom’s daily involvement had been for the most part, compliant. She would receive help through a number of Franciscan Staff Members –and of course, her family, but also included the cooperation of other Clients, living within the group environment.
Of course, Mom greatly missed her Home and belongings that she had acquired over many years of toil and sacrifice; she generally preferred privacy, but short visits with others, usually had worked well within her comfort zone. Though Based upon Mom’s progressive illness, of which undoubtedly had caused ongoing confusion –and over this time, had needed continuous cueing and prompting from Staff and especially from Family Members; all this was a large lode to bare. And unfortunately many of the Family now live long distances away from the Merced area.
For instance my youngest Sister Bev had traveled all the way from Florida in an effort to recharge Mother’s spirits. Brother Rick –and his Wife Jennifer, along with Vicki and Bob, had made their four hour journeys, a number of times over the past few years.
Other support came from my Brother Tom and Sister Claudia’s Family, coming from Modesto as they all had often provided that added support for Lucy and me, seeing to Mother’s immediate needs. However over those last two and a half years, Mom’s general health had sadly slipped from having the ability to demonstrate her Artistic skill, which included some Architectural renderings of a general layout of the Facility. This form of planning in my Mother’s mind, had actually displayed some greater efficiency and use of some of the available working space, of the overall layout plan within the Facility.
But this inspiring form of expression, had sadly lasted only for a short time, nevertheless, had given Mom a greater personal sense of accomplishment; In short, Mother had truly believed that this work was really useful. And upon our many visits, we found that as she was able, Mom had enjoyed brief moments of clarity; so such activities had included sitting in a chair, greeting visitors and trying to bat around a balloon, as a way to maintain some coordination and exercise.
Also Mom attempted to eat some portion of her meals and was at that point, maintaining her liquid intake, though with considerable effort. However, eventually through her lack of desire for eating, had been largely due to the progressive nature of her disease. Over the final year or so, Mother Doris lost her ability to speak and only mumbled a steady stream of “mah-mah-mah”. Soon she was unable to sit-up in bed by herself. Yet over her remaining Months, she had stubbornly clung to Life and even instinctively clutched a cup of a warm chocolatey drink, fortified with life-giving nutrients. This sustained her for a while.
Therefore it was with this final act of our Mother’s resolute defiance over death; which had always been very clear to each of us; that of her strong sense of self-sufficiency; also with Mom having to manage for thirty years without her Husband and with those constant day-to-day worries and concerns about all of us, being her precious children. Still, aside from all of that, our Mother’s radiant complexion and bright blue eyes, had indeed sparkled over her Ninety years of her life, until that final week; which came in February 2013.
Mother simply had lapsed into a Coma, as Jacki and Bev, Claudia and Tom, including Lucy and I—were all there, keeping a constant vigil. Mother gave up her mighty struggle for life, on February 23rd. at about 3:15pm. Thus it was after the long struggle with that final loss of our dear Mother. It still seemed that there were many great things suddenly falling into place for at least Lucy and me; although all of this compassion and mercy had taken a tremendous amount of work; filled with life’s stresses, yet these things included making good decisions along the way.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Traveling Abroad
If there is anything that I have come to understand, it’s the idea that in life’s journey, it’s all about deciding to take the risk of doing something, rather than doing nothing at all; but, when concerning things like right and wrong choices, living day-to-day—and thinking of what to do about this or that, is simply one of the main bases of what life is all about. This reminds me of the old adage, that has to do with life’s worries -–“that you can only change things you have control of—and not to worry about the things you cannot change at all”. So we must enjoy the rewards of that hard work—and perhaps see a bit of the World.
Up to this point I haven’t traveled vary far from home—just a “California guy, stuck in my own “oyster”, never having much opportunity to venture beyond my own province. In sharp contrast, Lucy, coming from a well-traveled family takes as a matter of course, that of merely packing a suitcase and visiting other family-members, in far-off localities; almost as if they are next door. Granted, it’s expensive to “hop the pond” as they say; but again, it’s back to that matter of choice—and yet basing this on a certain level of priorities.
Therefore, the world is fascinating to see firsthand. The differences between the varieties of cultures are one of the things that truly make the Planet a better place. However in today’s World, the provincial lines of demarcation certainly now are blurred; thereby threatening to destroy any historical and cultural significance, built Over thousands of years. I in fact have always looked at ideas dealing with problematic dilemmas, by taking a big picture view of the problem at hand.
Thus baring this in mind, we Americans tend to think of these United States as the “great melting pot”, but now, the entire world is that melting pot, which is seemingly merging together at a faster rate than ever before. The big question is, can all of us in a holistic way, come to understand one another’s positive values, and gained from each other’s cultural roots— or will we continue to destroy the important values learned? Still, along these lines, we find historically speaking, that we have witnessed a dramatic social phenomenon known as the “Space Age”; and so it became evident to me during the last year of College—that I had been inspired to do a Research Paper, which traced the origins of the National Space Society— and some of the other Civilian grass root efforts.
Further, these Organizations had lobbied for a more robust US Space Program; emphasizing this “new ocean of Space” now available to us—and has certainly changed our collective perspective forever. So I should say at this point that this is exactly why we must not forget those Astronaut—Shuttle and Station crews. They indeed had provided valuable on-going productive scientific work, at the International Space Station. These space farers—with their HD Cameras can now show us what Spaceflight—and our good green Home of Earth is really like. Also just as it had occurred with this Space related Research paper, figuratively speaking, placed under my proverbial bonnet. And through it all illustrated from subsequent observations based upon certain conclusions, that I had at least for myself, had discovered from that “big picture feeling—out of which had developed early on throughout my days in School.
Thus it has been within the last fifty years—beginning with this singular act of reaching into Space, it had most certainly ignited the imagination of a generation of young people, of which included myself). This had been spurred on by virtue of the so called, “Overview Effect”, aptly coined by Dr. Frank White and promoted through Gerald K O’Neal’s general appeal; and then made famous from a book of the same title. This new view of our own World over-time had spilled into our social consciences, through the eyes of the first “Star-voyagers—like John H Glenn. It was of course he along with those other space pioneers, who had gained a truly unique opportunity; through their collective eyes –and with their special photography. All of this dramatically attests to a global perception, of a world without borders.
Therefore it had become an extension of this very thing, where upon the Astronauts from Projects Mercury, Gemini n and then from Apollo, all had seen this while on orbit; and even more poignantly from the rather stark proximity of the Moon. With this, the Astronauts each saw and described, our Earth, as a beautiful yet delicate and precious orb.
And so of course I was profoundly touched by this view; Again—I for one and for that matter had been gratefully pleased, finding a particular Song within my Music Collection, which so well expresses that homogeneous view, in a tune performed by Red Grammer—“We’re here to Love”, backed-up by the Limelighters; it is filled with stirring lyrical passages that I am happy to present in part, as follows…
Where Here To Love
“We all live on a little ball spinning somewhere in Space. A tiny dot in the Universe, reserved for the Human race. And as our Planet obeys the laws of Gravity, Nature and Time—we each must look into the Heart, to find the part we play in the grand design.
“We’re here to Love.
“Oh, we’ve got the Power. This, our finest hour, we look to the Stars way up from Heaven, shining down on us. From the Ghetto to the Holley-land –-someone is needing somebody’s hand; it’s time for all of us to understand that we’re here to Love”……
And, to be sure, we are living on what has been called by a Book and Film, known as “The Privileged Planet”. In fact, “our reach into Space –and its further development is a theme I present in another Volume. And in its last Section of this new book, I trod even deeper, through the basis of these ethereal underpinnings, including both the vast depths of the “microcosm and also that of the “macrocosm”; thus exploring the ideas of how and why this remains an absolute and singular aspect of nature—which binds reality together. However I should say at this point, that I think that My Wife must believe that my mind simply wanders too much toward Outer Space. Lucy is not as philosophical as I am, by pondering over all these matters. She delights in helping one another, as the human factors dictate, case by case.
The fact is Lucy’s particular interests are those concerns that have to do with family—and to a fair degree, the things dealing with various associates and other co-workers. However, as the two of us are able we make a point to get-in some vacation time. And all of that chiefly stems from my Wife’s penchant for hard work; yet now and then, needing a rest bit from the work-a-day grind.
So as a matter of course, Lucy really enjoys visiting France, catching-up with her two boys and their families. And as it had been over the past thirteen years, about every other year, the two of us had flown via Air France, buying a non-stop round-trip fare. Incidentally, the average flight time takes at least ten hours to get from San Francisco’s SFO, to Charles De-Gaulle Airport in Paris. So this new vista has certainly afforded me some new opportunities. Therefore it can be truly said that Lucy and I have “tripped the Light fantastic, strolling along (sometimes with other family members) traversing too and froe, throughout the romantic streets of Paris;
—Thus “gay Pirie”, as it is commonly referred to, has long been regarded as “the City of Light”. I had recently returned after making my tenth visit. One time while over there, upon some enquiry I found that the social “enlightened attitude” toward Blindness,–perhaps, stretching a pun here; is nonetheless a refreshing change from the harried life-style which is so pervasive in our own country. Furthermore, it could be said that with these visits, I find that French Citizens since the days of the benevolent Valentine Hauy—and his famous prodigy Louis Braille) as We find through a historical sense, that French Citizens had dealt with the social concerns regarding the capabilities of persons who just happen to be without sight; had invariably learned these things much earlier than we of the United States.
All of this stems from our own lack of provincial understanding. Moreover, we find that in the States we Americans tend to judge others too quickly, in our rush to “get it Wright”. Granted our fifty States is about five times as large, with the population density being about five times greater than the Country of France. Along With this, our Political system obligates us—State by State, to consider differing brands of approach regarding services to the Visually Impaired—and the often-thorny issues concerning blindness in general; thus effectively lessening Vocational opportunities as a whole.
So I must say up to now, largely based upon each of those periodic visits to France; with my limited experiences within the Country; and yet basing this on my over-all impressions. Therefore I generally find that the people of France have a healthier outlook on “blindness” matters. .
So again, that’s probably because of their Nation-wide standards of uniform governance (regarding the symbolic Maryanne, denoting Right of Liberty) which was developed over time. This is especially the case while establishing in some form, the tone and overall attitude throughout the entire Country. So again it is through the power of personal observation, where I had found that when in many public places in France, I noticed that blind people are often extended the common courtesy of being discreetly escorted to the front of the line—served first, instead of resorting to wait in a public line; and then undeterminably lost in the shuffle.
This kind of thing is especially true over the ensuing hurly-burly –when at the mercy of the unfriendly nature of a big-city environment. Because of this, I for one would like to chat with several blind folks from Paris in order to obtain their first-hand impressions, specifically a variety of social aspects regarding their own experiences, mainly as it relates to navigating through the larger Cities of France. So I really want to know if this “common courtesy is genuine, or is it based on outright pity.
Lucy and I as of February 28, 2015 had actually had the opportunity to attempt a Long-stay in Normandy France; while taking care of her Ailing Mother, as well as her Mother’s longtime Husband. So by living on and off in my newly adopted Country; and also as my ability to speak the Language increases—I may indeed parley such questions as the ones just posed.
However, looking back as of May 2004, I’ll never forget that initial trip, flying out of the U.S. for the first time. To be sure it was an invaluable experience, traveling with my lovely companion. That is, myself with Lucy, hand-in-hand, as she acted as my official guide and interpreter. Naturally, we found it quite romantic and at the same time for me, completely reassuring; which is to say, finding myself suddenly placed in unfamiliar territory; yet doing so surprisingly well.
Again, It’s a lot of fun being with my beautiful Wife, with her particular fine degree of savoir-faire, of which she so richly possesses; and Remembering still, that up to now, taking short hops in plains –and traveling barely out of State, was my only real venturing experience. But that first voyage over-seas for those exhausting three weeks; and yet discovering that I was typically a consummate tourist. Thus as things unfolded, our Travel plans took us in and out of Paris, Versai, then over to the coast of Normandy. Throughout that Trip I really indulged, sampling the scrumptious pastries—eating them on the way to see all the attractions of Paris. Between home cooked meals, I was on a real high; or was it from taking a stiff swallow of home-grown Calvados.”
Or was it more the case that I had been quite enamored from the ever-present crowd, for instance gawking-up at the splendid aspect of the Eifel Tower; then climbing her reverently—level by level, with video camera in hand.
Lucy and her half Sister Mona Lisa, who on this Trip functioned as our main host -–along with me in tow. Mona had graciously shared her little Apartment and expertise while riding on a tour boat, down the Seine River. She at the time; had actually worked for the Seine River Information Bureau. Suddenly there we were, basking in the mild mid-morning sunshine; we were all looking at a variety of fascinating Palisades. Then came the original Liberty Statue, which is much smaller than our own version of the “Lady Liberty;” that graces Ellis Island, in New York Harbor.
We contented Tourists by now were listening to the boat’s official loud-speaker, the Conductor talking in several different languages; all of us hearing in their turn, French, Italian, German, and Japanese and of course, English. The Tour Guide matter of factually explained the scenery as we floated by, on our planned route. Over that first week, Lucy, Mona Lisa and I had to use the Metro System to get to the center of Paris.
I discovered that the Metro was a vast multi-level subterranean world unto its own. There were even Musicians from the Andes Mountains, entreating us with their traditional musical favorites. They played them from instruments made from their own Countries native materials, including bird feathers, wood and bone and leather pieces.—I really think that I had seen this group while in San Francisco, when visiting for a time, with my Sister Vicky. .
Then, later on the trip Lucy and I spent the majority of our three-week stay, in the Le Mange Province, in the Southern portion of Normandy. We traveled the four-hour journey in a rented car that Sebastian had arranged in advance.—I even had a Video Camera at the ready to shoot some views of the Countryside along the way.
Also, Lucy’s two Sons and their girlfriends; including “Fred’s” companion Almondene—and “Seb’s” (soon to be Fiancée,) Faye, all had a grand time, enjoying barbeques and time with the Families local acquaintances—and all of their other friends. Fred and Seb flew large kites at the beach, not far from their Grandma, Memere, Georgette’s home near Bricqueville Su Mer.
Almondene and Faye and Lucy played among the waves with the family’s dog, a Pit-bull named Nina. And at one point, while I was busy with the Video Camera, I became tangled with Nina’s leash –and was flipped in the air, crashing on the compacted sand, landing hard on my tailbone.
Despite the soreness emanating from my backside, I continued to make videos of the beautiful, perfectly blue sky—and surf, which usually occurred over that particular month in May. The days were exceedingly long—not getting dark until after ten o’clock at night. Meanwhile, the boys always would want to continue their fun at the house, playing volleyball and bad mitten before we set down to home-style Cuisine—out of doors of course.
Lucy was quite proud, sharing her childhood memories sights and sounds as we both took in the Country-like vista -–, filled with the quiet and restful ambiance which had been permeated only from the nearby bleating of Sheep. They were grazing on the rich salted green pastoral, stretches of low-laying hillocks. Further we would often hear the early morning waking sound from a Rooster; that included the plaintiff name from a Donkey, which blended in with the movement of truck and tractor laden fishing boats, being pulled to the Sea for the catch of their daily bounty; Those delectable morsels, which are enjoyed by many of the Local inhabitants, according to the varied Season.
Later, while visiting some friends, whose residential home had been situated more inland, Lucy and I had the occasion to hike through one of the many forested areas dotting the landscape. We greeted various folk’s such as bicyclists, including those strolling along with their dogs, yet meeting still others on horseback, traversing the trails; and enjoying the natural and peaceful seems of a variety of tall pines towering over all of us. Everyone wishing a bone jaurni.
Still in Normandy, Lucy showed me the seaside bunkers and fortifications that the Germans had built at the time of the great Normandy invasion—that of World War two, way back in 1944. It was now at this poignant moment, as we couldn’t help but ponder over the thought of the horrendous Battle, which had occurred almost exactly sixty years earlier.
So once again with the Video Camcorder, I captured the moment on Tape, as My Wife reverently had read the inscriptions on each of the monuments that were positioned around each of the hallowed sites, which commemorated those tragic Battles.
Then Lucy showed me the location of each of the cemeteries, where the U.S. Soldiers were buried after the fierce fight that resulted in liberating the entire Country. Then it was time to catch our flight back. And yes, I remember the constant discomfort that I felt, having been battered on the Beach through my accidental fall. Having to face the bruised tailbone while suffering on the long ride home. .
16.1. More God’s Critters
Lance—and Sheyenne
Finally home from that first visit to France, Lucy and I had an added surprise when Dino suddenly placed in my hands, a small bundle of fur. Though I didn’t know what to think when the small bundle began licking my hand with a tiny pink Tung—“Oh no, a puppy”! I was lonesome for a dog after losing Gaelic and the other Guides of the past. So it had been Over the enter veining time when Lucy and I talked about perhaps getting a good companion dog as a pet—and I said that if so, his name would be “Lance”. “Why Lance? Lucy would ask and I’d reply—“It just sounds masculine”. So the little ball of fur became known as “Mister the Dog, or Mr. Lance”—as Lucy’s broken-English so warmly expresses.
Lance was the first dog I truly had raised from the very beginning. He was just weaned from his Mother’s litter –-and was living on a Ranch nearby the small town of Winton CA. Dino was fortunate to find such a cute responsive and intelligent looking prospect. In looks, the little pooch was light tan in color, had a pair of brown sympathetic eyes and pointy ears, with the left ear always slightly drooped, and also, this little puppy had a black pointed snout and a curved tail, looping over his backside. We all thought that Lance was part Golden Retriever—and perhaps had some Sheppard, or maybe Husky in his breeding —we weren’t sure. But as Lance began to grow and fill-out—becoming a little bolder -–displaying Border collie tendencies. He seemed to be always guarding his territory. I distinctly recall his first little bark, after that, there was no holding him back.
Mr. Lance’s greatest trait however, is his attentiveness toward people. He is loving, and mostly smart and obedient. He is both an indoor and outdoor dog, just like Patters—a consummate Clown with lots of energy. In fact the first few nights we tried to teach little Lance to stay in the garage. He acted like that this wasn’t a big deal, until he discovered our bedroom. He eventually learned to sleep next to our bed without much fuss.
Lance as a puppy would love to play with an old broom, dragging it back and forth over the grassy area in the backyard. We replaced the broom, with a black stuffed poodle -–saying with some laughter, his “little bitch”; because he in an adolescent way, started to hump her whenever he got a chance. This was his great fun until his inevitable date with the Vet had occurred. While at the Vet, he proved to be a brave little puppy, as he got his Rabies vaccination. Then he was neutered.
All of this was before we had our Swimming Pool built. And as the Swimming Pool was under construction, I’d show Lance each new facet as the Pool began to take shape. Then, when it was time to add water to the Pool, Lance simply thought the expensive pool was merely a large drinking bowl, made just for him. He isn’t much a water dog, but will instinctively risk it all, diving in, to save a child from drowning.
Some three years later, Lucy and I acquired another ball-of-fur that we introduced to Mr. Lance, who was caught unawares. This was a beautiful Himalayan Kitten, just weaned. The cat was too small to be afraid of the much larger dog—so I made the point of speaking to Lance in such a way, to keep the tension down, telling the dog that the kitty was his “little baby”. I continued to emphasize the idea, to reinforce the connection. Soon Lance and Sheyenne became inseparable friends. As they bonded together, they would invariably have some playtime each night before bedtime. Lucy called this our—“naunnie-naunnie time”.
Sheyenne was unique, in that he was attracted to of all things, ice cubes, playing with the refrigerator dispenser and like to try to find sweet tasting things to nibble on. He looked and acted much like a blue-eyed Siamese with an extra-long tail. His favorite meal was a can of tuna, but not the “Bumblebee” brand.
Also the cat overtime learned to lead me to the backdoor, wanting out in the middle of the night. Then, when he wanted back in the house, he plaintively meowed through the window; and carefully guided me back to my comfortable Temperpedic bed -–so I could catch some Zees’.
16.2. Hopping the Pond Again
—And Yet Again:
In 2005, we were back in Europe, once again in France; this time the plan was to spend Christmas, seeing the Champs-Elysées which is the main boulevard of Paris, all lit-up for the season. The Trip overseas to and from was a triple hop, by way of landing at New York’s Kennedy International Airport, from SFO; and then flying onto Heathrow in the UK, then over the English Channel to Charles Degaule International.
But while in the Heathrow Airport we were astonished over the price of a couple of BLT sandwiches—and two large bowls of hot chocolate. It ended up costing over $44 of American money. We both felt that those economy measures -–saving money on Airfare, was not at all worth the trouble, so we will never try this kind of scrimping, just to save a few bucks.
Back in France the Eifel Tower and the “Wheel of Paris were spectacular at night, as we all made our way toward the entrance of a Movie Theater, near Euro Disney. Showing the new version of King Kong, produced by Filmmaker Peter Jackson, that happen to be displayed on the Marquee.
I thoroughly enjoyed the flick, seeing it in English, as the Theater was divided in such a way in order to accommodate both French and English language viewers. Later, it actually snowed the day after Christmas -–and so it was fun filming Fred at his home, as he tried to makeshift a barbeque of sorts, by using a wheelbarrow. This wasn’t such a far-fetched idea as you might think, because the Soldiers in World War II had to do this vary thing, in order to feed the troops who were dropping-in over Normandy, so long ago.
Still it was on this particular trip that we decided New-year Eve should be spent at the home of Almondene’s folks; knowing that I was an American tourist, the hosts surprised me, by serving me a plate of escargot, which I found to my liking. There I was, sitting at the table, with a small replica of the Eifel Tower, winking on and off, just like the actual thing which is located in the middle of Paris.
I was happy to see that the Video Camera continued to whirr-away, recording most of the events of the evening. At the Midnight-hour, everyone toasted each other with Champaign, uttering the traditional “bonne Annee, the French expression for “happy New-year!” And yet I watched all of this in smug fashion, smoking a Cuban cigar, as Almondene’s Brother had been joyfully entertaining us with his guitar, playing French ballads —as we sang along throughout that memorable evening.
Then it was the same type of excitement as our next opportunity to travel to France came in 2008. That was when Sebastian and Faye were getting married, enduring along solemn and traditional ceremony, which was in a large Cathedral in Paris. This of course included a big Family gathering afterword; which was in a posh subterranean Restaurant—a Grotto type environment. It was decked out in the style like that of a Sultan’s tent.
The large place featured a big carousel with colorful galloping horses for us to ride -–all of us still garbed in our festive attire. There was also a hilariously funny, live-band playing pop music, including French, Lebanese and American favorites. The gala lasted all night long and the catered food was fabulous. Of course, the Video Movie—and digital still Cameras were liberally passed around, recording the event to preserve the memories of it all, including the very best and worst moments of each of those attending.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Those “IssuesIn the Tissues”
Back in 2002, Lucy and I were determined to find a particular vocation that we could both enjoy—and together share more time each day with each other; plus earning an even better Pay Check. We looked in the Paper’s Want Ads, to find a Massage School that would be close enough to regularly attend. The choices came down to two Training Schools which were offered in Modesto. We finally settled on one that was actually based in Stockton California, which had a Satellite Training facility located in the Modesto area.
The School was known as “Touching for Health, School of Bodywork” and Massage”; it was headed-up by an older Woman named Dodi Baker. Both Lucy and I quickly found that the general Core Curriculum consisted of teaching the proper method of applying various forms of bodywork, which proved to be types of certain “Modalities”, designed in order to maximize the greatest desirable outcome, from the necessary type that would be chosen for a given task.
Typically we observed by way of demonstration during each of the Classroom sessions. The Client (at the start of the Session) would be laying in a “supine or face-up position.
This allows the Therapist to use gravity as a counter-point, to first, stretch the Client’s limbs, so as to relax the major areas on their body. Then the Therapist would gently slip their hands between the bodies and massage table—slowly and deliberately stretching the Client’s tight areas.
We Students eventually learned a vital principal of using a counter-point that of Gravity, by pushing fingers upward as the force of gravity pulled downward; thus saving us from the constant strain of lifting and positioning , always letting gravity to do the work, whenever possible.
We also learned that the basic Massage Session usually would last about an hour. Halfway through the process (we Class members, practicing our skill on each other—sometimes would act as the Practitioner) as we would be obliged to ask the Client to turn to the “Prone position” (face down) in order to apply deeper work on the back, thereby completing the Massage.
With These kinds of approaches, I found much later in practice, that this would be quite different from what is usually taught at other Training Schools; but the main point of learning the basics was to address the entire body. Moreover, these techniques involved a variety of forms of hand-manipulation, or differing kinds of “strokes”, which were used in penetrating, or “enervating” several layers of Skin, including Muscle—and other soft tissue; so each of these types of Massage were the forms or certain Modalities that were learned in specific Class Sessions.
Further, the various modes were all effective enough to solve mostly the many chronic conditions found in practice. Special social—and interpersonal skills, along with those all-important types of therapeutic, “stroking” techniques would—soon enough come together by using an entire pallet of tools and expertise to draw upon, as we became more fluent throughout the Training; All of that was constantly reinforced over the entire core Curriculum, taught at the School.
Generally, we Masseuse Trainees could really appreciate the value obtained from those first foundational “Core Training” Class Sessions. As another example of this, we found that basic hand positioning must be very precise -–and that fingers must be placed close together—and also slightly cupped, while the pads of the fingers, along with the palms of the hands, were used to apply the degree of pressure needed. Additionally, we Students learned that splayed finger positioning appears to the Client as being an uncomfortable, “groping” even threatening type of signal, thus setting off a fear response. That causes the Client to cringe –so is quite disconcerting to the person being massaged.
And this is all very well true, especially when the hands of the Therapist are touching one place and then not at all. We called this “breaking contact”. The Client is usually startled if this happens. Therefore that certainly would not be a good outcome for that particular Session. And so if by learning all these things were not enough, we Massage Students were told that our hands always must be clean—and nails should be trimmed short, so as not to inadvertently scratch our Client’s skin.
In addition, we Massage “newbie’s” found that those special Strokes learned in Class, had included beneficial techniques such as “effleurage”, a feather-like, light smoothing approach, applied by the entire hand; thus being able to distribute a small amount of oil or lotion; thus allowing a better way to move hands to the targeted area.—all this, without breaking contact with the Client.
Further, we Students commonly used a technique known as “Petrasauge”, which more specifically addresses a particular area, by “sequencing certain degrees of Light, Medium”, or “Deep-Tissue” penetration. Many Clients typically ask for such “deep-work” -–however, their body is usually not able to respond favorably to that kind of work. .
Yet beyond all the Basic Training—what was especially evident at this particular Massage School, was establishing a philosophy toward the necessity of grasping a more complete understanding and appreciation of how the entire body generally moves and functions. So as a matter of course, we Students discovered the intricacies of the complete Anatomical movement, of the integrated skeletal and body’s Musculature and Circulatory system, which is generally called Kinesis). In Addition to this, we learned to address the total capabilities and therapeutic benefits of the art of Massage, through manipulation, using both our hands and elbows, therefore with these efforts, we learned to revitalize the body’s own restorative processes.
So with all of this I found that I was especially keen on detecting bony structures; including the contour, shape—and texture of layers of Muscle—and other soft tissue, called Fascia; all this important information was needed to be “mapped” as it were, through the sensitivity of mostly the hand. This seemed second nature to me, due to my lack of sight—thus it was no wonder that I was able to help other Students throughout those most interesting Classes, of which we were obligated to complete, in order to fulfill the Training requirements.
For instance, from our “Masterpiece” Corse-studies, near the end of our overall Training, we found that the various “Modalities”—like Swedish massage and Acupressure, were both aimed toward targeting the Client’s real needs, as opposed to a somewhat subjective idea, based only on the Client’s own-sorted complaints. We Masseuses also were instructed on applying the proper approach and under what circumstances—that is, of which form of technique from the vast “pallet,” acquired from our so-called tool-kit, that we could draw from; and to what degree of pressure we could employ; all this involves a measure of hand manipulation—or by adding greater pressure—even using our elbow. Again, this was necessary to achieve the desired outcome.
I also found that it was great fun actually describing what massage really felt like, as a blind person., I would explain to each of my classmates that certain forms of visual cues might hinder or detract from the degree of sensory focus, so necessary for an aspiring Massage Therapist. Collectively we Students formally discussed these ideas during our Lecture Classes. Those so called Theory Classes were based on a series of discussions, that explored the facets of Human Anatomy, as well as Basic Physiology; that together serves as kind of “a roadmap” of the body network (at least with the areas that we can effectively address).
The Main Instructor for a number of these Classes was an enthusiastic guy named Dennis King. He was very humorous with his particular approach toward those specific technical subjects, mainly that of Anatomy and Physiology. “He would say, in a mock fiendish way, grinding his knuckles and smirk;—“Let us see what we can see, rattling around in our bones”!
Dennis would then allow me to feel just how each joint worked. He would pull out various bony specimens from a box, passing it around—and from time to time, the Class would need to examine “Mr. Bones”, the full skeleton manic an , who would be greeting us at the start of each Session. Thus it was during our Practical Application lab-sessions, where Students were usually pared-off into smaller groups, in order to serve as one another’s subject; one Student collaborating with their partner, acting as the proverbial Client—while the other team-mate would act as the Therapist.
So when the situation dictated, as in these Lecture and discussion Sessions, I teamed-up with my Wife, where she functioned as a proficient note-taker. In this way, we could always study together at home, where I was able to transcribe our Class notes into Braille; and we would then quiz each other in preparation for Exams.
Yet As it always seems to be, just as it had been in other Classroom situations in High School—and also throughout College, it became evident that I had to take each quiz and exam orally, while the Class Instructor, quietly fed me the test questions. So it was particularly the case during these special Sessions. Thus my Instructor and I were both located in a separate room, so my fellow Students couldn’t hear the response to each question. In addition to the “Skill portion of our Class Sessions, When it was time to demonstrate each type of technique , through a specific kind of evaluation, we Students would setup the Training area, arranged with Massage Tables, with individual subjects draped—now lying on them.
And by now, we Students were ready for the exercise; however for me, this kind of setting obviously was too far away for me to even attempt to see, in just the same way as it was for all the others. So during these particular Exams—if there was any hesitation or doubt by me, or by anyone else, for a specific application of technique, on just how one might produce a more correct approach, as part of the sequence within the pattern being tested?
Again it was often difficult personally, because those that can see with their dark-adapted eyes—my good-ole’ fellow Masseuse Students, could occasionally sneak a peek –when they weren’t supposed to—by glancing over their shoulder, looking for a clue, when the test moderator was not exactly focusing on them. This kind of cheating wasn’t at all fare for me, because I simply could not see in that dimly lit room, like the other Students; therefore with my “visual problem”, I made it abundantly clear, that this was an unfair situation.
However, some of those so-called well-educated Instructors, who never dealt with blind Massage Students before, they were still not at all sympathetic toward my Particular dilemma. They merely rolled their eyes and said—“You’ll just have to be better than all the rest”.
Nevertheless one of the overall goals in Training was directed toward developing certain interpersonal skills—and then to learn how to read all of those “tell-tail” signs of those Human characteristics concerning behaviors, which may provide some clues, that are associated with such “differing body-types. Thus this information could silently “queue us” when approaching a person, who may need these so called “issues in the tissues”, hopefully and effectively addressed in a more properly conducted Massage session.
Also through our “Business Practice” Sessions, we had discovered that all of those tactile skill-building efforts, were really necessary, for developing a viable Client base, thereby sharpening these techniques and giving us a particular angle that we can employ, tailored for one’s own Massage business needs. In addition, we discussed other aspects of the complete “Business cycle”—and a myriad of possibilities; thereby looking forward toward our Graduation and eventual Certification.
Lucy and I needed to spread our nearly 500 hours of Training over a three year period, due to the ten thousand dollar joint cost for the Tuition. Yet by the end of the Training and during the course of the final exam, it took me a couple of weeks longer than the others to gain my Certification.
Then later on when Dodie Baker retired, Dennis King and his wife Victoria took over the responsibilities of the School; while some of the other Instructor’s Contracts were not renewed. So for me, this apparent improvement, as far as I was concerned, because of finding that Denis had correctly reinstated some hours within the Skills Application portion of the Grades, that were posted on my Official Transcript.
It seems some hours in my case were disallowed, which appeared to be unsatisfactory in the eyes of the other Instructors; which was evidently based upon their perceived lack of completeness. Apparently as far as they were concerned, I had hesitated too long while being tested.
Thus as things were, during the Skill Evaluation Sessions—I personally needed to mentally process each of the sequential steps, as part of the pattern. That was primarily because of my lack of visual abilities; and so with that little uncertainty, this purported inaction, evidently had disrupted the flow of the entire massage Session. So I needed to be re-evaluated. In the long run, I was certainly glad that the issue was revisited, having the correct number of hours finally reinstated. .
Now at last, Lucy and I with our Certification Papers in hand, had in tern secured some work through a Local Physician, Dr. Conrad Castolino, who opened a so called “Day Spa” that was located in Downtown Merced. He offered a variety of “body-work Modalities”, pertaining to the Massage portion of his Business. Both of us generally worked as Swedish-style Masseuses, for about two years, gaining valuable practice,
And so it was that Lucy, in particular, received specialized Training, by way of an exotic approach, which was in the form of working with some electronic stimulation equipment. That machine was known as a“Dermasonic” device. Lucy became especially acquainted with the application of a conductive gel, placing it over the area of the abdomen—and sometimes would apply the gel on the fatty tissue of the Client’s thighs. A Medical Practitioner, who was qualified to insure that this very expensive equipment had been always properly calibrated and adjusted for a given Session) along with the overall care and keeping of the equipment.
This was all done as The Doctor showed Lucy how to Place electronically conductive gel; and using an electronic wand, which transferred the acquired signal image -–thus correlating the received signal with that of the displayed readouts on the expensive equipment.
So the general theory was based upon learning a high tech form, of breaking-down the build-up of “collagen”, which were unwanted toxins. Still all of this was fascinating, until Doctor Castelino opted to close his Business, which was mainly due to the breakup of his Professional Partnership. And so That this situation obligated us to branch out on our own. And with this sudden change, my Wife and I at first, had to co-op with other Massage establishments. This served us well over the next few years, until we found a Suite of Offices, offered to us at reasonable rates, by a nice friendly guy, a Property Owner named Wendell Hammon.
We were then able to bring in other Massage Therapists, sub-letting individual rooms to offset the overhead monthly costs of the building. Over Those days Lucy became quite popular as a Massage Therapist, when we were still residing in the local Merced area. However in contrast I had found myself less so. This has nothing to do with my skills—and or approach; but mainly has to do with the comfort-level of others, simply because of my male status—and also the overall Social aspects concerning my blindness.
Moreover, I find that it is simply the case within our culture that Men typically like to be massaged by a Woman. Basically, this is because of the nurturing qualities associated when being touched, just as it is when in a typical Massage Session. Of course, there are the sexual overtones that sometimes occur, but are usually dealt with on a professional basis. So as it usually is, In the case of a Woman wanting a massage, they generally ask for another Woman as a Masseuse. This is basically really thought of as being meant for common safety reasons. For me, this appears quite daunting for us, Male Massage Therapists. This is because it simply takes Men more time to develop a trusting Client base. Without such daily practice—skills can wane; and that for me, at least has proven to be frustrating.
Furthermore, I do not know what to do about the question concerning blindness in this regard. Everyone says to my face –-even saying with great confidence—“with your deeper degree of sensitivity, being without sight—you would be great!” But, few are willing to expose themselves to an actual “table session”; but Each time when I was given a chance by displaying my knowledge and approach. These Sessions were basically well received. But what is really needed are on-going practice sessions, which would be a major key to success.
So as a matter of course, we Massage Students had actually discussed all these ramifications at length throughout our Classes –-yet there were no clear-cut answers to this dilemma. It is a true cultural conundrum. As this situation stands, I can only try to educate others, staying in practice –and insuring that my License remains current.
In Still, in addition to this, along with other blind Massage Therapists, I have presented these thoughts through special Webcasts—and holding various discussions through the American Council of the Blind, which is their ACB Radio Station—and on the System Access VOIP, Chat sessions, including other special Webcast Programs. Yet we find that we blind folks all must stay positive, when focused on these kinds of matters, so we are always looking for opportunities to educate the masses.
BOOK THREE
Some Surmising’s
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A Cat’s Purr….
While searching for a topic in order to present to one of our Massage Classes, I happened upon a curious Web ring on the Internet, that discusses the relational effects between natural sounds within our bodies—and The apparent effects of ”purring of the Feline, ”The Cat.” and it’s supposed healing properties”. The following is the information I submitted for the Assignment.
Terry Miller,
September 22, 2005
Healing Properties of the Frequency of a Cat’s purr
From Fauna Communications Research Institute
It seems Scientists have discovered that the purring of cats, is a “natural healing mechanism,” that has helped inspire the myth that they have “nine lives”. Nine lives; wounded cats purr because it helps their bones and organs to heal. This evidently occurs in cats, wild and domestic. Because of their purring, it helps their bones and organs to heal and grow stronger, say researchers, who have analyzed the purring of different feline species. This they say, explains why cats survive falls from high buildings, (high-rise syndrome; as the Journal of Animal Medicine, ’JAVMA’—indicates).
Moreover, exposure to similar sound frequencies is known to improve bone density in humans”. Doctors and scientists in a number of different medical fields are researching the healing properties of sound, and the results are promising. Most body cavities and tissues have their own resonant frequencies, and sound in those ranges can stimulate the respective organs to heal.
For example: the human lungs resonate at around 39 hertz (in a fluid medium) And researchers at Georgia Tech and Emory University, have found sound at that frequency to be beneficial to people with lung diseases, such as cystic fibrosis. There is great interest in the aspect of Visceral-somatic to, Visceral-Visceral; and Somatic-visceral pain, and so on; As well as, interest in the effects of vibration in freeing up adhesions. Thus the focus is on just how the differences between the vibration works in a mechanical sense, or if it works on a much deeper level.
The converse is also true. Prolonged exposure to its own resonant frequency will begin to break an organ or tissue down. Just like many chemicals, intense sound can be a medicine in small quantities, and poison in larger ones.
Further, it is theorized “Bin-aural beats” act emotionally and psychically, in the context of the mind. While it is foolish to underestimate this, and we find that mind can influence body more profoundly with each passing day. So it’s a mistake to confuse, or perceive binaural beats with direct acoustics. However, some question this view, arguing that a brain wave is not a cat’s purr.
Still, it is found in Medical research that Muscles tendons and ligaments are also positively affected by 25 Hz vibration. For instance, Olympic athletes employ 25Hz—using “biomedical stimulation. It is also found that Vibro-acoustic therapy works in this frequency range. Some say—“Crossover ideas from animal medicine to human medicine, concerning the effect of low frequency, “sound-massage”, is very interesting.
I’m intrigued that there seems as though there is some sort of resonance between the cat’s body and the frequency of the cat’s purr. Isn’t it reasonable to assume that our bodies bones and tissues) resonate close to the same frequencies, that of the cat. Also, I have found that there was a recent discovery in megalithic graves in Stonehenge, in England-as well as in Ireland; where
Dr. David Keating, of Aeron Watson University, was reading experimental results from rock-laden tombs, while exploring some caves. The data showed that these caves had been deliberately cut and hewn, in such a way to produce a frequency of 120 Hz. This type of experiment was done while standing in a specific area of the structure; thus finding a steady sound at the entrance of each tomb. This sound experiment was reproduced exactly at the same frequency. Thereby proving mathematically, when applying this approach to the same formula each time, as the experiment was conducted.
In Addition to that Study, a grant has been given to carry on research to ascertain whether this happened throughout early Europe, to determine if megalithic man was indeed familiar with cats. We may ask, what were the particular reasons? Did the cats have as it were, in “early man’s “ignorant ear”, receive such resonant –“vibes in caves, communing with vibration waves -–and conjuring up “strong medicine” –-meow”!
From the 1960s through the 1980s, there were many studies in human medical journals that discussed the value of electrical stimulation, in bone healing. The majority of these were the use of electrical stimulation, to encourage bone growth in fractured tibias that were not “knitting” (non-union or dis-union). Someone had taken the two concepts and theorized, that the cats’ purring stimulated bone growth /healing; since electrical stimulation (interpreted as vibration) was being used in none or dis-union of fractures in humans.
Therefore, in my view concerning The Animal Studies, it is stated, that apparently Cats seemed to heal when bones were broken; but also at the same time, we must be careful while interpreting the raw data, when stating this in terms of scientific conclusions. Also, we generally find that Science as a whole, is advanced only by conceptualizing new Hypotheses, based upon various forms of research through large quantitative analysis of such data. This is done in order to support, more categorically, those Theoretical conclusions. So again, we therefore must be cautious when interpreting findings from mere “raw data”. Now back to the additional assertions of the aforementioned Research that I have found on the Web…
It has been reported In a Year 2000 medical journal, “Human Medicine” that state the overall healing effects of 25 Hz at low level db. This includes one hundred papers from NASA, on Space medicine). Once again, based upon my own reasoning, it should be noted that sound is merely energy, and the associated vibration is the medium through which it travels…—now returning to the sources on the Web.…
Perhaps the vibrations stimulate the effect of moderate bone stressing, that initiates, “bone matrix reformation”, like gentle pressure, when you bear weight lithely on a bony structure. “A person with Osteopenia, or Osteo-malacia and Osteoporosis, seem like they may really benefit from bone reformation, with vibration, if indeed, all of this proves true.
Furthermore, on-going work has been done with Parkinson’s and Various Massage Practitioners. Therapists have been throwing around the idea of Substantial Nigra and ischemic conditions, as to the decrease in release of Dopamine; and if vibrations at the certain level would stimulate that region—if this is indeed possible.
“Some Practitioners use modality such as Qigong—saying, “These ideas really hit home, about certain frequencies for certain viscera”. However, it seems as though they are like that of a much higher frequency –“yet still good for toxin removal as it is taught in standard curriculum”.
I also found from researching the Web, that it was recently discovered that a particular solution to the decalcification in bones, during extended periods of spaceflight -–which was due to meneuet vibrations on Orbit. In addition, I happen to know that currently that re calcification, can be slowly overcome during long periods of micro-gravity. For quite a while, Astronauts had learned through painstaking experimentation, based upon Gravity and vibration effects, using principals of Physics. This had indeed reduced “calcification.” A counter-effect for that is typically done in Space, by standing on a vibrating plate while tethered into place.—That’s ”real stimuli-tech”—and is also being observed on the molecular level.
Author’s NOTE:
Within “Micro-gravity” there are experiments done to isolate sources of vibration, induced from basic external sources (now back to the Article)
However, when it comes to observing the purring and bone Growth of the Cat, the sound of the purr and the resulting vibration, generally, one would think that it is critical to the healing process, especially based upon the context of the idea of Chakra, which uses similar sounds, and vibrations to help you, and the Cat, more rapidly heal.
Finally, through further research on this subject from the Web,—“It has been determined that the Tabby cat, has the longest and most powerful purr and vibration.—I wonder if the purr is the same next to each person. Does the cat, change the sound to benefit not only himself but also the recipient; or has the cat detected the wavelength of the human—and duplicates it in his meditative state; attempting the healing of both of them.—“This is very powerful animal-to-Human awareness—that we have not yet fully explored or been able to explain”.
I hope that there is more research done on this. If so, one might be able to move joints quite intricately. For example, using cranial-sacral, and Raulfing techniques, by way of meneuet structural tuning, using “sound imaging”, as well as with touch as a guide. So perhaps this new modality will constitute the way of the future. We shall see.
Caption) Image showing—The EYE Of God Nebula
We have examined ever-farther reaches into the physical Universe called the Macrocosm; and also had hinted about aspects regarding the ever-smaller continuum –that of the “Microcosm. But what of binding them together in the form of an eternal reality, called “the Medicosm.” Can our Theistic and scientific observation be reconciled in a harmonious manor? The following discussion deals with these largest of questions. It in fact, should touch us all in very profound and fundamental ways. So by keeping an open mind the Reader may as well learn a thing or two involving self and others and their place in the Cosmos.
Part One
“Outside the Time Domain”
—And Into the Labyrinth of Reality
We have examined ever-farther reaches into the physical Universe called the Macrocosm; and also had hinted about aspects regarding the ever-smaller continuum –that of the “Microcosm. But what of binding them together in the form of an eternal reality, called “the Medicosm.” Can our theism—and scientific observation be reconciled in a harmonious manor?
The following discussion deals with these largest of questions. It in fact, should touch us all in very profound and fundamental ways. So by keeping an open mind, the Reader may as well learn a thing or two involving self—along with others and their place in the Cosmos.
“Outside the Time Domain”
And Into the Labyrinth
Of Reality
Over the course of one’s life, we invariably find ourselves contemplating the nature of our own existence, or perhaps in a deeper sense muse over what reality truly is. From earliest times people have wondered; who are we? And what and where—and ultimately how we came to be. Most importantly, the question is there actual purpose to it all”? Does reality have true meaning”? And if one is left with these questions surrounding the existence of God’s plan, or rather, relying only on our human cognition; and so by merely posing these questions in terms more on the basis of pure rhetorical views. We then tend to think of ourselves as simply mundane mortals, clinging only to a humanistic form. Wth only this kind of reasoning, we tend to base these ideas on philosophy, or at best educated guess work.
Fundamentally, it is that we Humans simply resort to responding to our feelings that reside within, ranging from the visceral of the gut—the proverbial pangs of the heart, leading hopefully to some glimmer of spiritual awareness. But from these compelling yet often abstract ideas of who we actually are, they must yet be viewed in a way that is easily understandable.
So conceive if you will a pane of frosted tented glass. You might at first note that it as in its physical form—is solid to the touch; But by peering through its partially opaque frosted surface, this results in leaving the observer left wanting, needing some clarification. The outer observable world undefined—like in a since, little-O’-me, who is a person that is only left with some partial eyesight.
Thus with this form of apparent obscurity, we generally require a basic need to understand what each of us is actually seeing—and also what is our real place in the total aspect of the entire Universe; And exactly what our ultimate role within its multiple dimensions really are.
Still again we commonly regard this pane of glass as not only as a physical object; yet rather observing it more in terms of both the physical and metaphysical dynamic. That is because if you think upon that tented and frosted piece of glass only in its mere tangible form, you miss the complete purpose for which it was created. Then you may argue the glass itself has definite mass, made up in this case of physical and solid material built of atoms, Inanimate, to be sure. However this is true only on the basis within the physical realm. So in order To see these things more clearly within some real perspective, we must descend into the subatomic domain, that of the Quanta; which ultimately is the absorption or emission of energy, or light, by an atom or other particle.
Therefore armed with our curious nature, we bold Human travelers are then obligated to take an imaginary journey by leaping through these discrete, quantized jumps. So we find ourselves debouche deep inside the nucleus of an Atom; and yet our voyage continues ever smaller—through a relative vast void, beyond the proton and neutron—into the domain of the quark; even traveling within the confines of the Neutrino, which resides in the realm of the electron. Moreover, this deep plunge results in observing a form of near nothingness, commonly called the “Planks’ Length. And as we shall carefully note, this domain is usually expressed as a mathematical abstraction “, a type of an endless labyrinth, where there is no physical “locality”. A place where kinetic energy ceases—and gravity in the conventional sense loses its hold –And as it were—all things are in the same place at the same time. A place that isn’t governed by the commonly held laws of classical physics. Which is to say a “multiverse” to be sure.
Author’s NOTE:
At this point, I must warn the reader that it is fair to say that when taking this theoretical journey, we must at the same time arm ourselves with a degree of understanding of the technical terminology used by Particle Physicists -–for this, I apologize—but let us begin the voyage.
Dr. Chuck Mistler Founder and CEO of the Koinonia Institute of Biblical Studies—who incidentally is a Technology Specialist—now opens with these remarks—“Throughout antiquity The Greeks thought the atom was the smallest thing in the universe. That it was indivisible. However Scientists have since, smashed that assumption to pieces—quite literally. Mistler further adds. “In the past century physicists have discovered hundreds of particles more minute than an atom, we call “subatomic particles”. Those that cannot be further broken down, are called fundamental or elementary particles.
(Caption) Photo of Dr. Chuck Mistler
But also theoretically included is, “antimatter”) in the form of antiparticles; and the particles that carry forces between other ones; such as in the case of photons, that mediate the so called electromagnetic force; and gluons, which mediate the so called strong force.
Physicists like Sam Vaknin (who is a Doctorate of both philosophy and physics) affirms these thoughts, saying that “ We use particle accelerators not only to find the smallest building blocks of the universe; but also to shed light on the biggest questions: What is the universe composed of? And what laws govern it? How did it come to be?
(Caption) Photo of Sam Vaknin
The Higgs boson
Dr. Mistler states; “One particular question physicists hope to answer is “Why or how particles have mass?” They postulate that there’s a space-filling field that imbues fundamental particles with mass, by interacting via a special particle, called the Higgs boson. Finding the Higgs would help them understand mysteries of mass, such as why protons are heavier than electrons—and why photons have no mass at all.
Super particles
Physicist Sam Vaknin again continues the story—“Super symmetry” theorizes that all particles have heavier counterparts with the same electrical charge, but with a different spin—(an intrinsic property of particles). No super particles have ever been seen, but if they exist, the Large Hadron Collider, LHC should be able to produce one, and many physicists suspect that a super particle could be the basic component of dark matter.
Why are there so many particles?
Again Vaknin—“A number of Physicists have discovered hundreds of particles, including 57 fundamental particles. Some Researchers are suspicious that it takes so many particles to describe the universe, and they theorize that there must be an underlying simplicity to the particle zoo. “String theory” is one such attempt to find order in the zoo. Vaknin further states—“Elementary particles for example, are specific elements of matter, composed of molecules that are made up of combinations of atoms; which in turn, are made up of protons, neutrons, and electrons.
While protons and neutrons can be broken down into fundamental particles, known as quarks and gluons; electrons are themselves fundamental—at least according to our current understanding; but it’s always possible that as physicists deepen their understanding of the universe—and wield more powerful technology, they will discover an even smaller unit, which underlies the entire universe. Vaknin continues—“Fundamental particles make up not only matter, but also “Dark Matter as well.
Why matter and not antimatter?
Once more Vaknin tells us—“Theoretically the big bang should have produced equal amounts of matter and anti-matter that annihilated each other, leaving a virtually empty universe. So why is our universe almost exclusively matter? The stars and galaxies that we can see count for only 4 to 5 percent of the universe. The rest is dark matter (20 to 25 percent) and dark energy (70 to 75 percent).
Author’s NOTE:
I should say here, a few years ago, NASA launched an array of particle collectors to work in conjunction with the International Space Station, that is now as we speak, collecting gamma-ray particles to sort out the population density of this constituency; including the apparent frequency of matter and anti-matter. Also, Physicists hope accelerator experiments will shed light on the nature of these dark phenomena.
A stunning discovery about the start of the universe
Dr. Don Lincoln, a senior physicist at Fermilab, does research using the Large Hadron Collider. He is the author of “The Large Hadron Collider: The Extraordinary Story of the Higgs Boson and Other Stuff That Will Blow Your Mind,” and produces a series of science education videos.
For millennia, humans have sat under a clear midnight sky and marveled at the spectacle emblazoned across the heavens. The stars seem eternal, as if they have always been there. But there’s just one problem.
It isn’t so. So says Don Lincoln
“The universe was once entirely dark, with nary a light anywhere throughout the entire cosmos. And then a single star burst into nuclear flame, sundering the void. Then another and another, leading to the stars and galaxies of the familiar universe.”
But, in what could well be a stunning breakthrough, a group of astronomers have announced that they have found radio signals that appear to provide evidence of the first stars to come into existence. And, just to add a bit of spice to the announcement, it’s possible that they might have discovered dark matter, a hypothesized substance that has eluded discovery for decades.
Astronomer Avi Loeb, a professor at Harvard University, says that—“if confirmed, this discovery deserves two Nobel Prizes,” one for observing the signal of the first stars and the other for detecting dark matter. He went on to conservatively point out that both claims are extraordinary and require extraordinary evidence.” He urged caution; and this caution is warranted—“The observed signal is very small. Radio sources in our own Milky Way galaxy can be 10,000 times stronger than this particular signal.”
So the researchers needed to work very hard to remove this dominant signal. It’s like trying to hear someone whispering to you while at a rock concert. If you know the song and vocalist very well, you could—at least in principle—mask out the band and recover the whisper. But if the amplifiers had a crackle or the lead singer had a cold, you might get it wrong.
New data could support or falsify this measurement.
Observation of the first stars is more likely to be confirmed, with observation of dark matter being less certain. However, if confirmed, it is certainly true that this faint radio signal could be an enormous step forward in our understanding of the birth of the universe. Though scientists a mere hundred years ago could only dream of the actual birth of the universe
While most people know something of the scientific explanation for how the universe came into existence, not everyone knows the full story of what physics has discovered. Just shy of 14 billion years ago, the universe was created in an event called the Big Bang
.
All of the matter and energy of the visible universe was concentrated into a tiny volume that “exploded”—for the lack of a better word; and then began expanding. The universe was unimaginably hot, glowing brighter than a steel furnace, with energy converting into matter and back again. Within three minutes, the nuclei of hydrogen and helium had formed, buffeted by an energetic bath of electrons.
This swarm of charged particles glowed brightly and yet did not let light pass through it. From the point of view of light, the entire universe was a glowing, yet opaque, wall. And so for 380,000 years, the universe expanded and cooled until it reached the temperature of 3,000 Kelvin (about 5,000 °F). At that temperature, hydrogen and helium nuclei could capture electrons, making atoms of hydrogen and helium. And, with that singular event, the universe went dark.
This was the beginning of what are called the Dark Ages. The universe continued to expand and cool, filled with clouds of hydrogen and helium. Gravity took over, with slightly denser areas of the universe pulling the gas into denser and denser clumps. While the universe on the whole was cooling, the temperature at the center of these clumps was rising; after about 180 million years eventually becoming so high, that the gas started to experience nuclear fusion.
And the first stars were born.
Now it turns out that it is not so easy to directly see the light of those distant stars. After all, they were embedded in clouds of cool hydrogen gas that absorbed the light. And it was with that absorption that they revealed themselves. While hydrogen absorbed the light of the stars, it re-emitted that energy in an easily identifiable way.
We have known for quite some time that young stars burn hot and emit lots of ultraviolet light—the same kind that gives you a sunburn. Hydrogen gas absorbs the light and knocks the electrons into higher energy orbits. Eventually the electrons lose energy and they settle back into the lowest orbit in one of two configurations.
Hydrogen consists of one proton and one electron and both particles act like little magnets, with a north pole and a south pole. In an atom of hydrogen, the north poles of the proton and electron can point in the same or opposite direction. If they point in opposite directions, that’s the end of the line—they are in a stable configuration.
But if the north poles point in the same direction, they’ll stay that way for a short time, and then the north pole of the electron will flip and point in the direction opposite to the proton. This is exactly what happens with ordinary magnets. When the electron flips, it emits a characteristic wavelength (21 cm or 1420 MHz, approximately the same frequency as 4G cellular service). By detecting that radiation, scientists could indirectly detect the existence of the early stars.
Thus it was that the Big Bang caused the universe to expand, which has the consequence of stretching the wavelength of the radiation emitted by hydrogen and decreasing the frequency. Today, this radiation is only about 78 MHz, or just below the range of FM radio. So by studying the sky’s spectrum, astronomers determined that the period of time that the stars were heating the hydrogen gas clouds ranged from about 180 million to 260 million years after the Big Bang.
Then after 260 million years, the gas had heated enough to be transparent to the light from stars. To give some perspective of the magnitude of the achievement of this kind of detection, the Hubble Space Telescope has only been able to directly image galaxies that existed no earlier than 400 million years after the Big Bang. This latest discovery has cut in half the period of the universe for which we previously had no data.
The role of dark matter
While seeing evidence for the very first stars is exciting enough, there is another consequence of this research that might well be paradigm-changing. The size of the observed signal is twice as big as predictions. This means that either the gas of the early universe was much colder than expected, or the residual background radiation from the Big Bang was much hotter.
So, which was it? Truthfully, scientists don’t know. It appears to be that the hydrogen gas cooled much more effectively than can be explained by current theories. Several possible explanations were tested and the one that the authors claim to be most probable, is that the early hydrogen gas interacted more strongly than expected than with dark matter so, something is wrong.
Dark matter is a proposed substance that explains many astronomical anomalies, like galaxies that rotate too quickly to be explained—by the gravity of observed matter—and even clusters of dozens or hundreds of galaxies, that are moving so quickly that they shouldn’t be bound together. Also, Dark matter doesn’t interact with light or any electromagnetic radiation—so only makes its presence known through its gravitational interactions.
If dark matter interacted with ordinary matter in the early universe, it could cool off the gas—and this would explain the reported discrepancy. Yet, as with all extraordinary claims, the key is verification by independent researchers. So until confirmation is found, it is important to be skeptical. And still, other astronomers will attempt to replicate the measurement. Moreover, new technology may come in handy.
Soon to be Launched is the follow-on to the Hubble Space Telescope—HST; which is the JWST James Web Space Telescope—which was designed by a consortium of NASA and the Canadian and European space agencies. It is designed to directly measure light from very early stars, whose wavelength has been shifted to longer wavelengths by the expansion of the universe. It is expected to revolutionize astronomy to the same degree that the Hubble telescope did. JWST is scheduled to launch in about 18 months.
Super-strings and other dimensions
Sam Vaknin informs us that “String theory tries to unify physics by explaining all particles and forces, as vibrations of one-dimensional organization of strings. It also predicts that space has six or seven more dimensions than we know about. According to Dr. Chuck Mistler, “It’s interesting to note here, that as a matter of fact, ancient Rabbinical Priests like the Hebrew sage, Nachmonides of the 12th Century, reasoned according to scripture that metaphysical or multi-dimensional realms do indeed exist.
On the other hand, scientifically speaking—as Vaknin again offers an explanation, telling us—“Strings” are too small for current particle accelerators to detect; but physicists hope to find indirect evidence of their existence, by determining such super particles (including particles disappearing into other dimensions) or disturbances in the behavior of ordinary particles.
Quark-gluon plasma
Again Vaknin—“Its theorized that in the first few microseconds after the big bang, the universe was permeated by a state of matter called the “quark-gluon plasma”. The temperatures and pressures were so high that quarks and gluons were able to exist independently of each other. So it is at these much lower temperatures and pressures, of and by which we experience in the physical universe today. It seems that quarks and gluons do not exist freely; rather they are bound together in trios that make up protons and neutrons. And it is the Work of Theoretical Physicists where they use particle accelerators to create quark-gluon plasma, which happens to be the fourth state of matter. So as these Physicists accelerate those sub-atomic particles, in order to investigate their properties and to learn more about the early universe—and also, for that matter the cores of neutron stars.
Unification
Dr. Chuck Mistler adds, “In the mid-1800s, James Maxwell realized that electricity and magnetism were not separate phenomena, but aspects of the same force—hence electromagnetism. In the 1970s, the standard model of physics at that time still held its own—and had showed that the electromagnetic forces were thusly combined with the electroweak force, in order to cause the effect of the so called unification of forces. Therefore this idea is known as the Grand Unification Theory, or GUT. And it is hoped that physicists may use these particle accelerators to help them find evidence of this Grand form of unification.
Also we find that these Particles combine to form the electroweak force. So we should bear in mind that there are four fundamental forces of nature—including: electromagnetic, weak, strong, and gravitational forces.”
Author’s NOTE:
I might as well add here, an additional “Spiritual kind of force” –-or a form of grand unification -effect that is very basic in reality; and likened to that kind of Spiritual pang felt from deep within; thereby led by the Lord’s Holy Spirit; In addition, these things in the context of this discussion (Scientifically as well as Spiritually speaking) as we shall see will all tie together
Now continuing on with the Text. Vaknin states that “Many physicists wonder if the strong force along with gravity can just as well be the weak force. He adds—“From ideas centering around this unified Scientific Theory, such as in the case of the “Super-String Theory”, which suggests the idea that particulate matter can be manifested in the form of a quay type of sub-atomic, “coiled-filament—neither a particle nor a waveform; but something that may bridge the gap between those multiple dimensions, that as of yet are unseen by direct human observation.
Vaknin continues—“As far as “Strings are concerned, they collapse (are resolved) and are stabilize as folds, wrinkles, knots, or flaps of space-time; and yet we find that this idea works quite elegantly. It fits well within the scope of particle physics which deals with the problems concerning “Quantum Mechanics”.
Still as Vaknin continues—“As the universe’s entropy grows (and energy density falls—“it decays” and its inflation then stops. This event determines its nature, its physical constants and natural laws. “Eternal inflation” is therefore a feature of the entire landscape of “string theory”; though not taking the form of any single “physical place.
Further, Strings” are basically described as probabilistic ripples (waves of “space-time”) but not in a quantum field; yet they propagate through space-time at the speed of light—that is from the point of view of an observer in a gravitational field. Strings will appear to be point particles, based largely in terms of Einstein’s “Special ‘Relativity Theory.” This is the same “formalism used to describe ripples in quantum fields, like elementary particles, which is then applied to a general theory. So the vibrations of “strings” in these Models are their probabilities in a particular form, which is described in a wave function). Therefore the allowed “Netted resonances”—vibrations of the strings) are derived from sub-Planck length quantum fluctuations, known as “quantum foam”.
Author’s NOTE:
I know that these concepts are quite abstract, but they have their place in rendering a concise picture of the Theory of “Grand Unification”; so bear with me a bit longer.
Dr. Sam Vaknin once more adds,—“One of these resonances yields the graviton. “And it is the case that Strings probabilistically vibrate in ALL modes at the same time—defined as “super-position”—”so their endpoints are interference-patterns, or “D-branes.” Furthermore, they are based upon “probability fields” of all possible vibrations. This brings into play according to these “String” Models the idea of “time quantum field theory”. So we find that time is produced in a “none “scalar field”, known as a “Cronin”—by the exchange of a particle.
Ultimately “String theories” aim to unify two apparently disparate physical theories; QFT (Quantum Field Theory) and the General Relativity Theory GRT). QFT, stipulates the exchange of those point-like particles. These exchanges result in the emergence of the four physical forces” (introduced above). They are again, the weak, the strong, the electromagnetic and Gravitational forces; thus binding together “the present time domain” (which we will examine a bit later)”.
Again Vaknin—“As the energy of these interactions increase, the forces and hyper-dimensional effects tend to merge, until they become a single unified force, at very high energies.
Author’s Note:
Within the annals of Science, along with the pursuit of a Grand Unified Theory, or a Theory of Everything; I had found in my research that this is not a newly known phenomenon. And as we have noted above. Along with Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity (SRT) (preceded by Maxwell) unified the electromagnetic forces. Then Glashow, Salam and Weinberg, unified the electroweak forces.
Although Vaknin says—“In the Standard Model (SM) the strong and electroweak forces attain the same values, which are the same at high energy—and where gravitational forces ultimately join in (all be it at even higher energies) So GRT and QFT are mathematically interfaced. “Macro-objects” dealt with in the GRT tend to create infinite, space time curvature, when infinitely compressed (to become point particles). However, “relativistic QFT” fails to account for gravity. This copes well with elementary particles, but only in an environment with a vanishingly weak force—that of gravity.
Vaknin then adds—“Conversely, some physicists tried to add a “graviton”, which is a gravity force carrying particle. They apply this to the QFT model, but end up with numerous “singularities”; or particulate interactions at a single point—and at a zero distance).
So then enter the strings; these are 1-dimensional entities, that have length), as compared to zero-dimensional points, without length. They move across a defined surface, or a “plotted model”, (called a “world-sheet”). Furthermore, these things vibrate—and each type of vibration is characterized by a number, which is otherwise known as a “quantum number”; such as in their spin or mass values. Thereby reaching “vibrational-modes” with its distinct set of “quantum number”—that correspond to a specific particle. In other words, particles are excitatory modes of these strings, they float in “space-time.” The “String tension” is basically related to its length. And still “Strings” need to have a mathematical “Planck length” (which is ten, to the minus 33rd power) to be able to account for quantum gravity. One of these states of “excitation” is a particle with zero mass and 2 spin units (known in Quantum Theory of Gravity (QTG) as that thing we called “a “Graviton”.
Dr. Mistler now explains—“these forms of Mathematics ultimately dictate an 11-dimensional universe. Four of its dimensions have “opened” and become accessible to us. The other 7 remain curled up in a “CalabiYau space””, in which strings vibrate. But Calabial spaces are not fixed entities. New ones can be created every time space is “torn” and “repairs” itself in a different curvature”. Dr. Vaknin then remarks—“strings merge when they interact in mathematical terms. Technically, one of 2 interacting strings “opens up” in an intermediate phase – and then closes up again.
Though through all of this, we should ask at this point what is the contribution of this hidden, strange world—and of the curling up solution that String Theory postulates -–and of what our understanding of a total Reality” actually represents. And it is by through such individuals such as Dr. Chuck Mistler through his biblical research, where he states that—“According to the Scriptures, the heavens can be “torn” ( Isa 64:1); “worn out” like a garment (Ps 102:25) “shaken” (Heb 12:26; Hag 2:6; Isa 13:13); burnt up” (2 Pet 3:12); ” split apart” like a scroll (Rev 6:14); “rolled up” like a mantle (Heb 1:12); or as a scroll (Isa 34:4). Mistler ads—“In fact the term “stretching the heavens” appears at least 17 times in the Scriptures.
Now Vaknin continues—“As it is, String theories do not deal with the world as we know it. They apply in the Planck scale (where quantum gravity prevails). On the other hand, to be of any use, even conceptually, these applications must encompass matter. These particulates are referred to as “fermions”); this study of “non-perturbative” attributes such as “dualities”, “super-symmetry”—and so on—had historically speaking, yielded much; and had led us to the conviction that a “unified quantum theory” underlies these myriad manifestations.
Although Vaknin and Mistler both agree that most people are not interested in knowing WHY and how these things work, but the Theoretical Physicists demand to know what the underlying PHYSICAL reality truly represents; or at least, that of its physical PRINCIPLE). Additionally, Solutions such as “Perturbation-Theory”, or PT, according to many of the Physicists did much in braking down quantum processes, into intermediate stages. Still again Vaknin goes on to say that “This research had generated a “degree of complexity; thus contributions from simpler phases were computed—and then added up first. Then the same treatment was thereby accorded to the contributions of the more complex phases—and so on.
He then adds—“Though all of this is speculative stuff. No one knows how large these extra dimensions are. If too small, particles will be unable to vibrate in them. Admittedly, if sufficiently large, it may be the case that new particles might be discovered, as well as new force conveyance modes. This may include, the way gravity is transmitted). So the mathematical fact remains, that the geometrical form of such curled dimensions determines the possible modes of vibration, from which particle masses and charges, and in what way they exist.
Lastly, Vaknin states—”One problem is that Strings also constitute a lower limit on quantum fluctuation. So in due time—and with a lot more work (and possibly a new “formalism”, or generalist theory, just might explain why our universe is the way it is.”
Author’s Note:
It is at this point in the discussion where I myself speculate that within the so-called historical “formalism”, we know that the movement of Kinetic energy, in a physical form, is caused by the frictional forces of matter, generated through the “Space-time Continuum”, invoking “electromagnetic radiation, or “spectral Light” as we sometimes see it (with our instruments—and also sometimes without them). In the latter case, we can see this Phenomenon visibly manifesting itself as spectral light, just as we may observe it as a “rainbow”. Biblically, this un-seen allusion points to God’s eternal promise, as in the story of Noah—and the Flood.
Whatever the case, Light as Photonic energy, co-joined with the enigma we call Time, supported by Gravity; which are both contained from within the physical domain; which is to say our three dimensional space –that again includes height, width, and depth. Still we must remember that these are interdependent upon the forces of Gravity that shifts over time itself, thereby binding the Physical Universe together.
Therefore I postulate that perhaps those opposing forces of “Dark Energy”, balance this phenomenon; thereby giving the Universe its Physical locality—And based upon the so called fruition of physical time, which is ultimately governed by our Lord’s “eternal plan, is thereby ushered forth. And it is also through my research on these matters, found through this so called “formalism”, that the “velocity of Light”, is dependent upon the physical span of Time, with its attendant force of Gravity -–through which all of this radiant form moves.
All of this of course as we had mentioned, is known as kinetic energy)). So we can tell from a relative observer’s viewpoint (that in a linear (physical sense) Light itself from careful observational means can be deduced by its averaged values; these findings are based upon Physicist Berry Sutter field’s exhaustive analysis of the intriguing “Light” phenomenon. And it is through Sutterfield’s findings along with his colleague Trevor Norman—where they show that the measurement of the velocity of Light, over several hundred years, is no longer considered, by a growing number of Scientists as being seen as a fixed mathematical value, or as a “Constant”.
Thus it appears that photons, or Light, as a form of energy, travel through the space-time continuum, on the basis of its mathematical measurement. And within this context, it seems to change within the fabric of time itself. Furthermore, these kinds of historical observations, in their own right reveal this “light value differential—”which is its speed that travels through space-time, at a different rate when measured between two determined points; and within linier physical Space according to the apparent observer.
Further we find that this long-held theory is worked out by applying the “Inverse Square Law”—and the Laws concerning entropy that deals with the Second Law of Thermal Dynamics. This particular principle was the same Theory I studied while taking the Survey Corse in College many years ago, by having to illustrate “Heirtzbrung’s and Russell’s Spectral Luminosity Diagrammatic-table that involves the “Inverse Square Law, which as well displays Spectral Types of Matter. ”
Thus with this provocative yet compelling concept in mind, we will note that the observer (from a linear reference sense) within the physical space-time continuum—is thereby seen through the movement of electrical magnetic radiation. And it is the case as these historical records reveal that through such measurements, they clocked “physical time” showing that they apparently had sped-up, when referencing the past and slowed-down when referring to a future frame of “spacial-reference.” So their measurement is built on a phenomenon known as, “space-time dilation”. And in addition to the copious amount of Historical data—through NASA Research, we discover certain recent information—telling us that the so called dilation value remains consistent from current and on-going interstellar measurements, throughout outer Space. But what of this apparent shift in “Time”?
Can Time Shift Backward and Forward?
Professor Kater Murch at Washington University has found that by knowing the future outcome of a particle, its state in the past is altered. Thus Without knowing the information, the state is more likely to remain the same. In other words, knowing future events can change the past.
SCHRODINGER‘S CAT EXPERIMENT
Schrödinger’s cat is a thought experiment created by Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger, in 1935. In the hypothetical experiment, a cat is placed in a sealed box next to a radioactive sample, a Geiger counter and a bottle of poison. If the Geiger counter detects that the radioactive material has decayed, it will trigger the smashing of the bottle of poison and the cat will be killed. So the experiment was designed to show the flaws in something known as the ‘Copenhagen interpretation’ of quantum mechanics.
This states that a particle exists in all states at once until observed. And if the Copenhagen interpretation suggests the radioactive material can have simultaneously decayed and not decayed in the sealed environment, then it follows –that the cat too is both alive and dead, until the box is opened. Therefore the theory follows another Theorem—postulated by scientists back in December 2014. They proposed that at the moment of the Big Bang a ‘mirror universe’ to our own was created, which moves in the opposite direction, through time; and intelligent beings in each one would perceive the other to be moving backwards
So, COULD TIME MOVE BACKWARDS IN A MIRROR UNIVERSE?
This radical theory was first proposed by Dr Julian Barbour of College Farm, in the UK, Dr Tim Koslowski of the University of New Brunswick in Canada—and Dr Flavio Mercati of the Perimeter Institute for Theoretical Physics, also in Canada. Their research attempts to answer questions that remain about the ‘arrow of time’—which is the concept that time is ‘symmetric’ and everything moves forward.
As was briefly inferred above, that at the time of the Big Bang not one but two universes formed – both moving equally, in each direction through time, but opposite to each other. This universe would not be exactly the same as ours, though; it would have evolved and changed in its own way, completely separate to our own. However, it would be subject to the same laws of physics, so it would likely have planets, stars and galaxies just like in our version of the cosmos. If this proves true in our ‘classical’ world, it would mean that what we’re doing now has been influenced by the decision made by a future version of us. Yet this all remains theory, but physicists have created devices that had allowed them to measure these fragile quantum systems, to see if this really is the case, in the quantum world.
Professor Kater Murch at Washington University used this technique to look at the quantum state of two particles at different stages in their evolution. He says that “The quantum state was detected by putting a circuit inside a microwave box. Then a few microwave photons – or particles of light – were sent into this box, where their quantum fields interacted with the circuit. When the photons exited the box they had information about the quantum system.
He continues—“We start each run by putting the qubit in a superposition of the two states. ‘Then we do a strong measurement but hide the result, by continuing to follow the system with weak measurements. —”They then try to guess the hidden result, which is their version of the missing page of the murder mystery—Calculating forward, the probability of finding the system in a particular state, your odds of guessing right are only fifty-fifty”, Murch said.—“But you can also calculate backward using something called an effect matrix.—“Just take all the equations and flip them around. They still work and you can just run the trajectory backward.—”So there’s a backward-going trajectory and a forward-going trajectory; and if we look at them both together and weight the information in both equally, we get something we call a hindsight prediction, or ‘retrodiction.”
So the latest research from Washington University suggests that in the quantum world, time runs both backward and forward whereas in the classical world it only runs forward. Though the shattering thing about the retrodiction is that it is 90 per cent accurate. When the physicists check it against the stored measurement of the system’s earlier state, it is right nine times out of 10. This suggests that in the quantum world time runs both backward and forward—whereas in the classical world it only runs forward.”
Professor Murch also said that “it’s as if you left your keys somewhere in the house, but couldn’t remember where. In the quantum world, they could exist in every room of the house simultaneously. And when you eventually find them in the kitchen, in the classical world it is clear that they were there all along; but in the quantum world the uncertainty is intrinsic.
Still, Professor Murch was able to show that indeed hindsight can be applied to make a better guess about where they were in the past. And in the same way, the improved odds in the current experiment imply the measured quantum state, somehow incorporates information from the future as well as the past. Thus indeed that might imply that this sense of time, notoriously an arrow in the classical world, is a double-headed arrow in the quantum world. So ‘it’s not clear why in the real world, the world made up of many particles, time only goes forward and entropy always increases,’ Professor Murch finally said.” “But many people are working on that problem—and I expect it will be solved in a few years.” But now on to the perplexing subject of “Dark Matter”
Author’s NOTE:
We had indicated that Time is a physical Force, like the Force of Gravity. Yet armed with our modern scientific instruments, we constantly observe both physical dimensions; that of the “Microcosm”—the seemingly infinitely small—and the seemingly infinite distant, “Macrocosm”; which are the vast distances of deep Space. Thus with this form of understanding we can determine—an even more relevant Historical view, by quoting Dr. Mistler once again. –where he states
—-“In the late 1960’s a physicist by the name of Peter Higgs proposed the existence of a special particle that would somehow interact with every other subatomic particle, to give them all mass. Since then, scientists have been scrambling to find this particular type of particle. So it was in 1932, that the existence of dark matter was first proposed by astronomer Jan Oort, who measured the motions of nearby stars in our Milky Way—which was relative to the galactic plane. He found that the mass of the “Galactic-plane” must be more than the mass of the material that can be seen.
A year later, Fritz Wacky examined the dynamics of clusters of galaxies—and found their movements similarly perplexing. Over many years, Spiral Galaxies were observed and found to be swirling too fast, to be held together by the gravitational pull of the visible stars.
Since these fast-moving stars have not been flung out through deep space. While observing all of this, it is no wonder that some scientists describe dark matter as “the glue that holds the universe together.” Moreover, as Mistler further states that “they can’t as have yet detect or measure dark matter directly, because it emits no light or radiation—hence the name. Its very existence is inferred from the gravitational effect it has on visible matter (including stars and galaxies).
Mistler continues—“Since the time of Edwin Hubble (early in the 20th Century) cosmologists have believed the Universe to be inflating, speeding into the nothingness to make it somethingness. They expected that eventually gravity would pull the mass of the Universe back in toward itself, and the expansion would slow down, possibly collapsing back in on itself. However in 1998, three supernova experts presented data that shocked the world of astronomers and physicists alike. “
Then it was that Saul Perlmutter, Brian Schmidt and Adam Reece, who recently won the Nobel Prize in Physics for discovering what is believed to be the accelerating expansion of the Universe. The Universe isn’t getting slower in its race into the void, they concluded; it’s speeding up. And that implication goes back to supernovae. It is found that a type Ia-supernova, is a super compact white dwarf star, in a binary system with a red giant. With this, we find Material from the “red star” is pulled onto the “white dwarf” until the highly dense star reaches a mass limit, of about 1.4 solar masses (1.4 times the mass of our sun) and in a runaway thermonuclear reaction—it just explodes. This is because these Star-types blow up under the same conditions. So Type Ia-supernovae, reach about the same brightness each time, when they blow. That means they can be used as “standard candles” for measuring distance. That is—the brighter the supernovae—the closer the supernovae.
There are other independent ways of measuring supernova distance as well, yet Ia-supernova at the same distances, should be about the same brightness when they explode. Thus when Perlmutter, Schmidt, and Rees’s noticed dimmer-than-expected supernovae, they were puzzled. They told the world in 1998, “Um… these supernovae we’re seeing aren’t bright enough for their distances. Something’s odd here.”
“Perlmutter on one team, and Schmidt and Reese on another, independently found some 50 distant supernovae, whose light reached Earth more weakly than anticipated. The scientists were expecting the expansion of the Universe to be slowing down, causing the supernovae to appear brighter. Instead, the supernovae light was fading. They concluded that the exploding stars had been carried away through Space, at an ever increasing velocity, along with the rest of their observed galaxies. In other words, it appeared that the Universe was accelerating”. “
Then in 2001, a supernovae 10 billion light years away, the farthest ever observed—once again disrupted expectations, because it was determined to be too bright. This indicated when that particular supernova exploded, the Universe was still slowing down. So it’s postulated that “Long ago when the light left this distant supernova, the Universe appears to have been slowing down, due to the mutual tug of all the mass in the Universe,”—said Reese.
But in 2001, He adds. “As it was billions of years later, when the light left more recent supernovae, the Universe had begun accelerating, stretching the expanse between galaxies and making objects in them, appear dimmer. “What?—How could that even work?
Dr. Mistler continues) “Newtonian physics requires that in order for a mass to increase in velocity, force has to be added to it according to the equation (F = m a)—Force equals mass times acceleration. What could have happened that would have suddenly forced the Universe to expand more quickly? (Or make it appear as though it were expanding faster) As of now, we can deduce that it’s our little culprit (we just touched on) that thing called “dark energy. “It’s not a super villain, a cosmological nemesis of the superhero—Quasar Man; no—It’s just energy nobody can see. Or prove directly. Again,
Astrophysicists have no clue what dark energy might be or what causes it, but it’s most important characteristic is its negative pressure –and, apparently is evenly distributed throughout Space. Of course, dark energy and dark matter are hypothetical. They are used to attempt to explain the data that astronomers have been collecting, but nobody has any good answers.”
Saul Perlmutter writes—“The dark energy evinced by the accelerating cosmic expansion, grants us almost no clues to its identity. Its tiny density and its feeble interactions presumably preclude identification, in the laboratory.
By this construction, of course, it does affect the expansion rate of the Universe, and different dark-energy models imply different expansion rates, in different epochs. So we must hunt for the fingerprints of dark energy—in the fine details of the history of cosmic expansion.
Perlmutter goes on to state –“we cannot detect dark energy on Earth, presumably—because of that “feeble” interaction, and yet it has the power to force galaxies to move, at increasing rates through the cosmos”. It may be that Astrophysicists need to revamp all their models. Perhaps they’ve missed something. Something important.”
Author’s NOTE:
All of this in my view, points to a much younger Universe…
Now, Dr. Mistler once more states; “The idea that the Universe is expanding, is largely based on the red shift, that is, light from deep in space shifts to the red. The same way that a motorcycle sounds deeper as it zooms away from us, the red waves are the longest waves of light that reach us from supernovae. This causes most astronomers to assume that the sources of light are moving away from us He now continues to explain—
“William Tift in 1976 determined that the red shift was quantized, not continuous. If it were caused by stars moving away at high speeds, it should be continuous, not bundled in little packages.” Further,—“In the 1980s, Guthrie and Napier, at the Edinburgh Observatory spent ten years challenging this view, and confirmed that Tifft was correct. There is also the potential that the speed of light has been slowing down, which we had already touched on earlier. How can all the data best be reconciled? The astronomers and physicists and child prodigies are still working on it.
Meanwhile, we congratulate those Nobel Prize in Physics winners—and their dedicated hard work, in trying to hammer out the general mysteries of the Universe.” Also—“We find that the “Standard Model” in particle physics, which is often compared to the Periodic Table of Elements used by chemists, consists of 16 particles that make up all matter in the universe.
Author’s NOTE:
The problem is that the Standard Model is not complete; —and what of its opposite form, “Negative Energy,” with its apparent opposing forces; comprising of all that “Dark Energy,” (which mysteriously appears and disappears by its own rules of engagement)”.
Mistler now adds—“We have peered into the deepest reaches of the known Universe, with a sortie of Space-based Telescopes, like the Hubble and the Chandra X-ray Observatory and now, the soon to be launched, so called next generation Space Telescope (which is the largest yet) the Web Space Observatory; all of these are attempting to resolve the physical character of the known Universe.
Author’s NOTE:
I may add here, Again through my own research; what we are currently able to understand is that “Dark-Energy” is not made from Atoms, at least as we know them”. Yet speculating here) another perplexing problem concerning the balancing Phenomenon, between positive and negative energy (earlier inferred) and even biblically speaking, could very well be an outward sign that may encompass the conflicts and chaos or—“Opposition in all things”.
So once more we are well aware of the Yen and the yang—, plus the conflicts between good and evil. Further one wonders of the temptation to manipulate these sub-atomic particles, due to the popular notion of the day. Still this involves the concerted efforts of unveiling the so called “god particle, fabled to be the Higgs Boson (also eluded to earlier). This deals with the issues surrounding the on-going tasks of greatly accelerating these particles through an extremely large collider; doing this, without understanding the implications concerning the molecular fusion of such particles.
Therefore I remain critical concerning this kind of feverish predilection of playing with particles; although this shouldn’t become a blatant “political” attempt to unveil .God’s Plan. This is because The Lord of course will not allow full knowledge of these things until “the “Biblically referenced—“due-time”. And yet on the face of it, the very idea of looking for God’s secret, is foolhardy—in that by making such assumptions; that it should not seem to be viewed as a wise or profitable pursuit. Yet again, this really shouldn’t be a problem, that of seeking after certain “underpinnings of Reality.”
So, scientifically speaking, among both the physical and the metaphysical Realms, these kinds of ideas in and of themselves, that is—if we try to understand—as we continue to pursue these scientific investigations; in my mind all of this actually will not ever define the “Creator” incarnate. Although Dr. Mistler continues to elucidate on this point—
“Nobody has ever actually seen the God particle—some say it doesn’t exist; yet in the ultimate leap of faith, physicists across the world have built one of the most ambitious and expensive science experiments the world has ever seen, in order to try to find it.”
Mistler again adds, “Back in 2008—“world-renowned physicist Steven Hawking told British TV, “I think it will be much more exciting if we don’t find the Higgs. That will show something is wrong, and we need to think again.—‘I have a bet of $100 that we won’t find the Higgs.” And other physicists (though a significant number) are hopeful about the possibilities. They are willing for Hawking to eventually lose his bet. “Yet the scope of the Project is impressive. All that effort actually involves more than 8,000 scientists from at least 85 countries; and even as scientists continue to analyze the data from the LHC, they hope to catch a glimpse of the Higgs boson. And in some ways, we’re certain that the name “God particle” is more accurate than some physicists would choose to admit; whether or not dark matter is busy keeping distant stars from shooting further into space, or perhaps not at all.”
And to continue to quote Dr. Mistler—”The Large Hadron Collider in CERN Switzerland, within the last few years was brought on line. This massive atom smasher hidden underground in the Alps, along the border of France and Switzerland, has a price tag of $10 billion—and has the job of shooting atoms through its 16.8 -mile circular tunnel, at insanely high speeds. “Over Five years ago (as of 2010) the LHC had accelerated proton beams to an astounding energy level of 2.36 teraelectronvolts (TeV). The highest any previous atom smasher had reached, was .98 TeV.
However, the CERN scientists were obliged to shut down the LHC in order to ready it for experiments that would be even more ambitious. Then on March 31st (2011) the CERN scientists had achieved the astonishing level of 7.0 TeV, in order to create what they consider to be “Big Bang” conditions. Over this intervening period (within 18 months to two years) the LHC had continued to smash atoms against each other—and the scientists were by that time, analyzing the results through powerful computers. They were hoping to catch a glimpse at the very stuff that makes up the universe. Physicists think that the collider will have enabled them to directly observe the Higgs boson, that theoretical glue that holds the entire universe together.
Author’s NOTE:
So it is within this theory, where the Higgs boson is perhaps regarded as the most elusive element in particle physics; but over the course of these investigations, a “kind of ripple” effect has quite possibly and suddenly diverted the attention of these Theoretical Scientist. So apparently, those Physicists for a time had found consistent evidence that Neutrinos may indeed travel faster than the speed of light. This—according to three years’ worth of data, which had been amassed at a huge underground lab in Italy.
Yet other Physicists across the world had been quite skeptical concerning Einstein’s theory of relativity, which hinges on the speed of light and the fact that nothing goes faster.
Still again, Dr. Mistler suggests that “If a particle can shoot past light speed, then crazy science fiction dreams like time travel, conceivably can become possible. And if other labs are able to duplicate the results, this discovery will cause theoretical physicists to wrestle once again with the most fundamental concepts, about the nature of the universe.
Less massive than an electron, faster than a speeding photon, able to fly through thick rock without hitting a single quark. It’s a lepton. It’s uncharged. It’s… it’s… a neutrino!
So What Are Neutrinos?
Mistler states, “Neutrinos are tiny subatomic particles without any charge, which makes it possible for them to speed through the earth, without interacting with the atoms along the way. Neutrinos are so tiny and finicky to work with, they aren’t even assigned a quantified mass. For example an electron has a mass of 9.11×10^−31 kg (which is exceedingly small), but a neutrino’s mass is described simply as “non-zero.” Just barely there.
The Opera Experiment:
Mistler again comments —“Italy’s Gran Sasso National Laboratory is buried deep under the ground, out of the way of the Sun’s cosmic radiation. There, a group of 160 physicists from 11 countries, which have been collaborating in an experiment called the “Oscillation Project with—“Emulsion-Tracking Apparatus, or “Opera” for short. Though the Opera experiment did not begin in Italy; but only just 450 miles away at the CERN Large Hadron Collider, on the border of France and Switzerland—as naked protons, stripped of electrons, (were) and still are able to be fired into a graphite target. There, they turn into a pulse of smaller particles called mesons, that decay into neutrinos and speed through the earth toward the Gran Sasso lab. The Scientists were not even initially focusing on neutrino speed. Neutrinos can morph from one shape to another, and these scientists performing the Opera experiment have been trying to study the transformation—of muon neutrinos, to tau neutrinos.
In the process, they measured the speeds of thousands of neutrinos, and came to the uncomfortable discovery that they were going too fast. After 16,000 neutrinos were detected over three years) the physicists only detected one tau neutrino. So while the speed of neutrinos is becoming the big issue, OPERA spokesperson, Antonio Ereditato, of the University of Bern, said, “We would like to see some tau neutrinos”. But skeptical physicists abound. Few are ready to believe that any particle, however small surpasses the speed of light.
Astrophysicist Martin Rees of the University of Cambridge, reminds Scientific American readers that “neutrinos and photons arrived about the same time—from SN1987A, a supernova first observed in February of 1987. If neutrinos indeed travelled faster than light, then the neutrinos from the supernova should have beat the photons in their space race from the explosion by a good four years.
Thus the SN1987A neutrinos had lower energies, than the particle accelerator neutrinos.” Still Theoretical physicist Lawrence Krauss of Arizona State University voiced the same sentiments. He also noted—“that the experiment appears to violate Lorentz invariance.” “Which is at the heart of so much known physics.”
Mistler goes on to say “That’s the struggle. So much known physics which is tested over and over, is dependent on the speed of light as the max of the universe. The equations work. The numbers fit over and over again. Therefore if the speed of light can be surpassed, what does that really mean? Does it mean that neutrinos actually leapfrog forward in time?” Or, is there something that physicists have missed? “
Most theoretical physicists assume there must be a mistake somewhere. Is there a systematic error that the Gran Sasso team missed? Did they measure the underground distance with the necessary precision, accounting for the tidal bulges in the Earth’s crust, due to the location of the Moon?
Further, Dr. Dario Autiero, of the Institute de Physique Nucleaire de Lyon in France, declared that his group has been trying to explain the results for six months without success. He said—“We cannot explain the observed effect in terms of systematic uncertainties,” just as Dr. Autiero told the physicists at CERN. “So again the measurement indicates a neutrino velocity higher than the speed of light.—”
That result comes as a complete surprise,” confirmed Ereditato. ” After many months of studies and cross checks we have not found (as of yet) any instrumental effect that could explain the result of the measurement. And while OPERA researchers had continued their studies, we are therefore looking forward to independent measurements to fully assess the nature of this observation.”
Thus Physicists in other labs are jumping to see if they can repeat the Italian lab’s results. Until others can repeat the experiment and get the same data, it’s unwise to take a stubborn position on the issue. Yet at the same time an editorial in The Guardian warns against rejecting discoveries just because they’re uncomfortable.” Although the history of science cautions against branding the Speed of Light question unthinkable.
And recalling back then the inexplicable Michelson -Morley experiment, which encouraged the spread of Einstein’s early ideas—and the baffling perihelion precession of Mercury. This lent support for the Einstein general theory. Mistler states “We must remember the first thing in science is to face the facts; making sense of them has to come second.—“
So it was in the intervening months since, things have been looking worse for the measurement of the purported speed of Neutrinos. All this culminated in March 2012) when the OPERA Collaboration finally admitted that the faster-than-light measurement may have been due to a simple measurement error. And what may well be the final nail in the coffin for the claim that neutrinos travel faster than light. Yet it was the case where Scientists from the ICARUS Group, in Gran Sasso have announced that they’ve measured neutrinos travelling from CERN—and determined that these neutrinos were not travelling faster than light. Apparently, the ICARUS detector has as well been involved in the neutrino findings. And over these several months of investigating the discrepancies (now being a few years ago) pointed out the experimental results had shown that the CERN neutrinos did not display the decay pattern, expected from neutrinos travelling faster than light.”
Author’s NOTE:
It should be said at least in my humble estimation, through all of these conjectures from these here-to-fore stated observations, we can begin to understand within our modern culture, that the physical Universe appears to be a quantized, digital simulation, from within—an eternal hyperdimentional reality, from without. By the same token, this “digitally ordered Universe” thereby (“in terms of “linier-time” -–and its dilation) appears much younger in design.
Thus it can be said (according to the Hermeneutics from various “Biblicists” such as Dr. Mistler) this gives rise to the Biblical time reference noted in the Genesis account, of a 144-hour literal creation. It is therefore God’s work—through his Son Jesus, the Christ, as is written in Scripture; in order to bring about his plan for our salvation.
Furthermore, Dr. Mistler is once again quoted, saying—“We as “believers know that Jesus Christ holds each of us, and we trust him to hold the atoms in our bodies together, with as much care as he takes in sustaining the entire universe. Even if Science changes, we know He does not”. But as to Science, there have been a number of conjectures regarding the nature of “dark matter”; however up to now all of them have eluded any empirical validation.”
Still, Mistler adds—“physicists also hope large instruments (like the aforementioned) CERN Large Hadron Collider) of which will shed even more light on the mystery of “dark matter”, “Dark energy” -–and the existence of extra dimensions; and the fundamental nature of such properties —that of “light speed”, and also the disposition of matter itself”...
Author’s NOTE:
And yet recently in July 2015, scientists announced the discovery of the existence of the new tiny particle – the pentaquark, which was previously based upon as only a theory. Scientists from CERN, which operates the collider, believe the existence of the particle could shed new light on how the matter that makes up everything, including how humans fit into the equation -–how all of this actually works.
Thus it comes 51 years after physicists, Murray Gell Mann and George Zweig, independently proposed the existence of subatomic particles known as quarks. Back then, the pentaquark, was a purely theoretical particle composed of four quarks and an antiquark, but CERN researchers claim their findings it actually exists are irrefutable. But LHC spokesperson Guy Wilkinson recently said: “The pentaquark is not just any new particle.—“It represents a way to aggregate quarks, namely the fundamental constituents of ordinary protons and neutrons, in a pattern that has never been observed before. So in more than 50 years of experimental searches.—“Studying its properties may allow us to understand better how ordinary matter, the protons and neutrons from which we’re all made, is constituted.” Thus with this new finding Researchers can now investigate how quarks bind together within the constituency of pentaquarks.
“It’s just the word ‘pentaquark’ which seems to be cursed somehow because there have been many discoveries that were then superseded by new results, which showed that previous ones were actually fluctuations and not real signals. Yet Patrick Koppenburg, physics coordinator for the LHCb experiment during the mid-2000s, said that some scientists claimed to have found at that time—pentaquarks; however the work was discredited by later research. “So there is quite a history with pentaquarks, which is why we were very careful in putting this paper forward.
”The LHC was restarted between April and June following a two-year shutdown for repairs after its first ever operation. During the first run of the LHC, which stopped nearly three years ago, experiments called Atlas and CMS confirmed the discovery of the so-called Higgs boson, an elementary particle that gives other particles their mass; a substance which had eluded detection for nearly 50 years. When it first started, critics feared it could start a black hole which could potentially devour Earth. However supporters claim if at all—it could only produce microscopic black holes; and even that has yet to happen.
Dr. Chuck Mistler now continues—“We often see in all of this concerning energy, space and time; without any Excuse, we find that Science like religion often requires us to take a leap of faith. Any honest scientist worth their salt should admit that despite centuries of scientific discovery and technological advancement, that most of our universe remains a mystery. Furthermore—“there are large numbers of areas that despite careful investigation, we do not fully understand.
Thus Mistler adds—“From the “magic” of photosynthesis to the mysterious particles that make up the fabric of space-time. Science continues to develop and change as Physicists discover new evidence; so it is one of the great joys of being human, to explore and discover the marvelous brilliance in detail, God used, in putting this world together”.
And it is “through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.” (Hebrews 11:3)— “For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him: And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.” – (Col 1:16–17).
Author’s NOTE:
:
Now armed with these purported factors under one’s bonnet, we may once again peer out into both outer and Inner-space; so let us examine these ideas afresh. —when examining our own Faith and Belief…
Has Science Discovered Faith?
Since the dawn of civilization, man has gazed in awe at the stars, wondering what they are and how they got there. On a clear night the unaided human eye can see about 6,000 stars, Hubble and other powerful telescopes indicate there are trillions of them clustered in over 100 billion galaxies. Our sun is like one grain of sand amidst the world’s beaches. But prior to the 20th century, the majority of scientists believed our own Milky Way galaxy was the entire universe, and that only about 100 million stars existed. Also most scientists believed that our universe never had a beginning. They believed mass, space and energy had always existed.
Thus in the early 20th century, astronomer Edwin Hubble discovered the universe is expanding. Rewinding the process mathematically, he calculated that everything in the universe, including matter, energy, space and even time itself, actually had a beginning. With this, shockwaves rang loudly throughout the scientific community. Many scientists, including Einstein, reacted negatively. In what Einstein later called “the biggest blunder of my life,” he even fudged the equations to avoid the implication of a beginning. Though perhaps the most vocal adversary of a beginning to the universe was British astronomer Sir Fred Hoyle, who sarcastically nicknamed the creation event a “big bang.” He stubbornly held to his steady state theory that the universe has always existed. So did Einstein and other scientists, until the evidence for a beginning became overwhelming. The “elephant in the room” implication of a beginning is that something or someone beyond scientific investigation must have started it all.
Then, in 1992, COBE satellite experiments proved that the universe really did have a one-time beginning, resulting in an incredible flash of light and energy. Although some scientists called it the moment of creation, most had referred to it as the “big bang.”
So it is well within our inquiry regarding these factors, as Astronomer Robert Jastrow tries to help us imagine how it all began. “His picture suggests the explosion of a cosmic hydrogen bomb. The instant in which the cosmic bomb exploded marked the birth of the Universe.”
Everything from Nothing
Science is unable to tell us what or who caused the universe to begin. But some believe it clearly points to a Creator. “British theorist, Edward Milne, wrote a mathematical treatise on relativity which concluded by saying, ‘As to the first cause of the Universe, in the context of expansion, that is left for the reader to insert, but our picture is incomplete without Him.
’”
However Another British scientist, Edmund Whittaker attributed the beginning of our universe—to “Divine will (constituting Nature from nothingness)” So many scientists were struck by the parallel of a one-time creation event from nothing. Hence the biblical creation account in Genesis 1:1.So prior to this discovery, many scientists regarded the biblical account of creation from nothing as unscientific. Although he called himself an agnostic, Jastrow was compelled by the evidence to admit—“So now we see how the astronomical evidence leads to a biblical view of the origin of the world.” And
Still again another agnostic George Smoot, the Nobel Prize winning scientist in charge of the NASA’s COBE experiment, also admits to the parallel. “There is no doubt that a parallel exists between the big bang as an event and the Christian notion of creation from nothing.” Furthermore, Scientists who used to scoff at the Bible as a book of fairy tales are now admitting that the biblical concept of creation from nothing has been right all along.
Therefore it is the case that Cosmologists who specialize in the study of the universe and its origins, soon realized that a chance cosmic explosion could never bring about life any more than a nuclear bomb would—unless it was precisely engineered to do so; and that this meant a designer must have planned it. So they began using words like, “Super-intellect,” “Creator,” and even “Supreme Being” to describe this designer. Let’s look at why.
Finely-Tuned for Life
Physicists calculated that for life to exist, gravity and the other forces of nature needed to be just right—or our universe couldn’t exist. Had the expansion rate been slightly weaker, gravity would have pulled all matter back into a “big crunch.” We’re not talking about merely a one or two percent reduction in the universe’s expansion rate. Stephen Hawking writes, “If the rate of expansion one second after the big bang had been smaller by even one part in a hundred thousand million-million, the universe would have re-collapsed before it ever reached its present size.”
On the flip side, if the expansion rate had been a mere fraction greater than it was, galaxies, stars and planets could never have formed, and we wouldn’t be here. And for life to exist, the conditions in our solar system and planet within it would also need to be just right. For example, we all realize that without an atmosphere of oxygen, none of us would be able to breathe. And without oxygen, water couldn’t exist. Without water there would be no rainfall for our crops.
Other elements such as hydrogen, nitrogen, sodium, carbon, calcium, and phosphorus are also essential for life. But that alone is not all that is needed for life to exist. The size, temperature, relative proximity, and chemical makeup of our planet, sun, and moon also need to be just right. Also there are dozens of other conditions that needed to be exquisitely fine-tuned, or we wouldn’t be here to think about it.
So Scientists who believe in God—may have expected such fine-tuning, but atheists and agnostics alike, are unable to explain the remarkable “coincidences.” Theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking, an agnostic, writes, “The remarkable fact is that the values of these numbers seem to have been very finely adjusted to make possible the development of life.”
Accident or Miracle?
Couldn’t this fine-tuning be attributed to chance? After all, odds-makers know that even long shots can eventually win at the racetrack. And, against heavy odds, lotteries are eventually won by someone. So, what are the odds against human life existing by chance from a random explosion in cosmic history? For human life to be possible from a big bang defies the laws of probability. One astronomer calculates the odds at less than 1 chance in a trillion (12 times over). It would be far easier for a blind-folded person—in one try— to discover one specially marked grain of sand out of all the beaches of the world.
And another example of how unlikely it would be for a random big bang to produce life—is one person winning over a thousand consecutive mega-million dollar lotteries after purchasing only a single ticket for each entry. What would be your reaction to such news? Impossible—unless it was fixed by someone behind the scenes, which is what everyone would think. And that is what many scientists are concluding—someone behind the scenes designed and created the universe.
Thus it is this new understanding of how miraculous human life is in our universe, as it had led the agnostic astronomer George Greenstein to ask, and “Is it possible that suddenly, without intending to, we have stumbled upon the scientific proof of the existence of a Supreme Being?” Although as an agnostic, Greenstein maintains his faith in science, rather than a Creator, to ultimately explain our origins. And still Dr. Jastrow explains why some scientists are reluctant to accept a transcendent Creator.—“There is a kind of religion in science; it is the religion of a person who believes there is order and harmony in the Universe. So it is that in this religious faith, that of the scientist, is violated by the discovery that the world had a beginning under conditions, in which the known laws of physics are not valid; and as a product of forces or circumstances we cannot discover. So when this happens, the scientist has lost control. If he really examined the implications, he would be traumatized.
Therefore it is understandable why scientists like Greenstein and Hawking seek other explanations rather than attribute our finely-tuned universe to a Creator. Hawking speculates that other unseen (and unprovable) universes may exist, increasing the odds that one of them (ours) is perfectly fine-tuned for life. However, since his proposal is speculative, and outside of verification, it can hardly be called “scientific.”
Although he is as well an agnostic, British astrophysicist Paul Davies dismisses Hawking’s idea as too speculative as his writings suggests; “Such a belief must rest on faith rather than observation.” Although Hawking continues leading the charge to explore purely scientific explanations for our origins, other scientists, including many agnostics have acknowledged what appears to be overwhelming evidence for a Creator.
Hoyle wrote—“A common sense interpretation of the facts suggests that a super intellect has monkeyed with physics, as well as chemistry and biology, that there are no blind forces worth speaking about in nature.” Though Einstein referring to God said—“the genius behind the universe “an intelligence of such superiority, compared with it, all the systematic thinking and acting of human beings is an utterly insignificant reflection.” Further, Atheist Christopher Hitchens, who spent much of his life writing and debating against God, was most perplexed by the fact that life couldn’t exist if things were different by just “one degree or one hair.” Yet Dr. Paul Davies acknowledges “there is for me—powerful evidence that there is something going on behind it all. It seems as though somebody has fine-tuned nature’s numbers to make the Universe…. The impression of design is overwhelming.
DNA—the Language of Life
Still Astronomy is not the only area where science has seen evidence for design. Molecular biologists have discovered intricately complex design in the microscopic world of DNA. In the past century, scientists learned that a tiny molecule called DNA is the “brains” behind each cell in our bodies as well as every other living thing. And the more they discover about DNA, the more amazed they are at the brilliance behind it. Scientists who believe the material world is all that exists (materialists), like Richard Dawkins, argue DNA evolved by natural selection without a Creator. But even most ardent evolutionists admit that the origin of DNA’s intricate complexity is unexplainable.
And so DNA’s intricate complexity caused its co-discoverer, Francis Crick, to believe that it could never have originated on earth naturally. Crick, an evolutionist who believed life is too complex to have originated on this Planet—and therefore must have come from outer space.
He wrote,—“An honest man armed with all the knowledge available to us now, could only state that in some sense, the origin of life appears at the moment to almost be a miracle, so many are the conditions which would have had to have been satisfied to get it going. Further, the intricate coding behind DNA reveals such intelligence that it staggers the imagination. A mere pinhead of DNA contains information equivalent to a stack of paperback books that would encircle the earth 5,000 times. And DNA operates like a language with its own extremely complex software code. Microsoft founder Bill Gates says that “the software of DNA is “far, far more complex than any software we have ever developed.” Dawkins and other materialists believe that all this complexity originated through natural Selection.
And as Crick remarked –“natural selection could never have produced the first molecule. Many scientists believe that the coding within the DNA molecule, points to an intelligence far exceeding what could have occurred by natural causes. Thus in the early 21st century, leading atheist, Antony Flew’s; it is where his atheism came to an abrupt end when he studied the intelligence behind DNA. Flew goes on to explain what changed his opinion.
“What I think the DNA material has done is to show that intelligence must have been involved in getting these extraordinarily diverse elements together. The enormous complexity by which the results were achieved, look to me like the work of intelligence…. So it now seems to me that the finding of more than fifty years of DNA research have provided materials for a new and enormously powerful argument, toward design.”
Although Flew was not a Christian, he admitted (like Bill Gates) that “the “software” behind DNA is far too complex to have originated without a “designer.” The discovery of the incredible intelligence behind DNA has, in this former leading atheist’s words—“provided materials for a new and enormously powerful argument to design.”
Fingerprints of a Creator
So, are scientists now convinced that a Creator has left his “fingerprints” on the universe? Though many scientists are still bent on squeezing God out of the universe, most recognize the religious implications of these new discoveries. In his book, The Grand Design, Stephen Hawking, who no longer believes in a personal God, attempts to explain why the universe doesn’t need God. Yet when faced with the evidence, even Hawking has as well admitted,—“There must be religious overtones. But I think most scientists prefer to shy away from the religious side of it.” Also an agnostic, Jastrow had no Christian agenda behind his conclusions. However, he freely acknowledges the compelling case for a Creator.
Jastrow writes of the shock and despair, experienced by scientists who thought they had squeezed God out of their world.—“For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountains of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries.
A Personal Creator?
If there is a super intelligent Creator, the question arises, what is he like? Is he just some Force like in Star Wars, or is he a personal Being like us? Since we are personal and relational beings, wouldn’t the one who created us also be personal and relational? Many scientists like Arthur L. Schawlow, Professor of Physics at Stanford University, winner of the Nobel Prize in physics, believe that these new discoveries provide compelling evidence for a personal God. He writes—“It seems to me that when confronted with the marvels of life and the universe, one must ask why and not just how. So the only possible answers are religious….—“I find a need for God in the universe and in my own life.” If God is personal and since he has given us the ability to communicate, wouldn’t we expect him to communicate with us and let us know why we are here?”
Life and purpose?
As we have seen, science alone is unable to answer questions about God and the purpose for life. Since the Bible was right about creation from nothing, might it also be trustworthy regarding God. Two thousand years ago a man set foot on our planet who claimed to have the answer to life. Although his time on earth was brief, his impact changed the world, and is still felt today. His name is Jesus Christ—and the eyewitnesses to Jesus himself—all tell us that he continually had demonstrated creative power over nature’s laws. They tell us he was wise, humble and compassionate. He healed the lame, deaf and blind. He stopped raging storms instantly, created food for the hungry on the spot, turned water into wine at a wedding, and even raised the dead. And they claimed after his brutal execution, he rose from the dead.
They also tell us that Jesus Christ is the one who flung the stars into space, fine-tuned our universe and created DNA. So could he be the one of whom Einstein unknowingly referred to as the “super intelligence” behind the universe? Could Jesus Christ be the one of whom Hoyle unknowingly referred to as having “monkeyed with physics, chemistry and biology?” Also, has the mystery of who was behind the big bang and the intelligence of DNA, been revealed in the following account from the New Testament?
‘Now Christ is the visible expression of the invisible God. He existed before creation began, for it was through him that everything was made, whether spiritual or material, seen or unseen. Through him, and for him, also, were created power and dominion, ownership and authority. In fact, every single thing was created through and for him….Life from nothing began through him, and life from the dead began through him, and he is therefore justly, called the Lord of all.’
Jesus spoke with authority about God’s love for us and the reason he created us. He said he has a plan for our lives, and that plan centers on a relationship with himself. But for that relationship to be possible, Jesus had to die on the cross for our sins. And it was necessary for him to rise from the dead, so that we too could have life after death. Again, if Jesus was the Creator, he certainly would have the power over life and death. And those closest to him claim they saw him alive after he died and was buried for three days.
So, Did Jesus Really Rise From The Dead?
The apostle Paul tells us that life from the dead began through Jesus Christ. The eyewitnesses to Jesus Christ actually spoke and acted like they believed he physically rose from the dead, after his crucifixion. If they were wrong then Christianity has been founded upon a lie. But if they were right, such a miracle would substantiate all Jesus said about God, himself, Creation and us. Yet must we take the resurrection of Jesus Christ by faith alone, or is there solid historical evidence?
We had seen such stated examples of “non-believers, where these skeptics began investigations into the historical record just to prove the resurrection account false. But instead, we have found that they came away with provocative and compelling evidences, behind the reason of existence and reality.
An Epiphany
With all of these considerations, as the Author of this Volume; I had with an intuitive sense had always known this—as basic fact, but as of late had given these ideas greater scrutiny. And when searching for a biblical commentary to study from (thinking that this would aide me in clarifying some nagging points of concern) regarding God’s word; doing this to gain some overall perspective from which to spiritually ponder, thereby resolving more or less my general understanding of “reality.”
Thus with these deepest of questions in mind; and also while surfing on the Web, I happened to find “Blue Letter Bible, a Site that contains Tools and resources. These teaching tools include Audio and Video Commentaries which deal with various topical subjects for the believer’s greater edification. Still just as it happened, I was fortunate enough to stumble upon Dr. Chuck Missler’s Commentaries and the Koninea Institute on the web; thereby finding a wealth of study-aides which are working very well for me.
So The very fact is, that the preceding paragraphs were my ungainly attempts in paraphrasing Dr. Missler among all of the others’ with their technical approach, toward the all-important first book of Genesis—and it’s critical underpinnings, leading to a greater foundational understanding of the entire Old and New Testament Bible.
Therefore, it is with these ideas carefully framed—as in the following statements—as suggested, where Dr. Missler often says —“the New Testament is in the Old Testament concealed—and `that the Old Testament is in the New Testament revealed…”; thereby underscoring the all-important realization, that the Scriptures, are “an integrated whole”; And that it is uniquely designed, with hidden messages beneath the text —and thusly declaring its authenticity and authority, through its ultimate Author, Jesus the Christ. So we may thereby conclude that it is He who resides outside our “time domain”, providing us with his eternal plan for our salvation. With this in mind, Missler always is quoted saying—“the Bible’s written word is a “love letter, comprising sixty-six books, written by more than forty Authors, spanning several thousand years. It’s written in blood on a wooden cross, our Lord who paid the “sin debt two thousand years ago… doing this, so that we may live in love and harmony, with him throughout eternity”
Finally, it is my hope and prayer that through this greater wisdom—and from this broader perspective, that those individuals who possess a particular keen and inquisitive spirit—As it is in Science—may indeed come to know the Lord—and all the blessings that flow through his eternal promise. For it is written; “when I consider the Heavens—the work of thy fingers—the Moon and the Stars that thou hast ordained; what is Man, that art mindful of him”...”Yet It is also written; “Man will go to and fro, in the Earth and his knowledge will increase exceedingly –-Whatever Man can conceive, he will surely do.” … End of Text…
Caption; “the eye of God Nebula (as-seen from the Hubble Space Telescope)
The image is a real image taken by both, the NASA Hubble Space Telescope—and the WIYN (University of Wisconsin –-and Indiana University—including the Yale University, as well as the National Optical Astronomy Observatory, which is the Telescope on Kitt Peak in Arizona, they together had made these images into a composite. Further, this image is actually called the Helix Nebula, or NGC 7293, located in the constellation of Aquarius.
Anyone with a good telescope can see the Helix Nebula in Aquarius, throughout fall and early winter in the evening skies. Northern Hemisphere observers must look to the south. Even though the Helix Nebula is magnitude 7.3; and the glowing gas from this nebula is rather spread out about half the size of a full moon, making it an observing challenge.
What Is the Helix Nebula?
The Helix Nebula is one of the closest and largest planetary nebulas known. A planetary nebula consists of gas and dust expelled from a star at the end of its life. It provides a glimpse into our own Sun’s future, after it reaches the red giant phase and begins to release its gases. So the star seen at the center of the Helix Nebula is the one responsible for the gaseous outflow. If this were the Sun, our planet would be well within the nebula. In fact, as the Sun bloats into the red giant phase, it will devour our Earth and all planets out to Mars. The Sun and the star in the Helix Nebula will eventually end their lives as white dwarfs. (End of Document)
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