Photo description: Donna uses her cane while walking down the sidewalk. She wears red top and denim skirt. In the background is an American flag and a bright blue sky.
Day 1
I don’t know why, but I’m surprised almost every time when I encounter human beings who seem to not ever have been outside their home, much less gone to the airport to travel abroad. You wouldn’t believe what TSA pulls out of people’s bags at security.
Today, the helpful TSA agent was loudly announcing that the X-ray machine was very sensitive and that, even though you shouldn’t have to, you should really take off your shoes and your belt. Plus all the normal stuff they tell you to take off BEFORE going through the scanner.
Four adult men with perfect hearing in line in front of me–four–refused this advice and left their belts and shoes on. The scanner alerted on all four of them, EVERY TIME. One lady took off one bracelet at a time and tried her luck with the scanner. The very helpful TSA agent politely instructed her to take them all off after try number three.
I usually am at the airport earlier than I should be, and mostly it’s for these kinds of reasons. There are always folks there who have just been released into the wild. TSA should set up some stadium seating and sell popcorn to those of us there early enough to not be in a hurry. It can be comical.
I was there early enough today for my originally scheduled flight, which did not occur. Nor did the two other alternately scheduled flights. I know how this goes. There’s a domino effect across the country. And, unless you own a private plane, there’s not one dadgummed thing you can do about it, either.
By the time I got to Charlotte, North Carolina for my connection, of course, it was too late. I got put on standby for an 8 p.m. flight and had a guaranteed seat on an 11 p.m. flight. It’s still raining in Charlotte, and apparently the entire planet, but as we board, one of the smallest airplanes on which I’ve ever flown is filling up with a lot of worn-out travelers.
I was supposed to get into Newport News at 12:30 p.m. It’s past 11 p.m. when I get to my hotel. So much for getting here early and doing some route-scouting. Day 2 is gonna show up very quickly.
Photo description: From a dock by my hotel, multiple boats sit anchored along the James River.
Day 2
I was right. Day 2 is here WAY more quickly than I had hoped.
I’m here in Newport News, Virginia to visit Donna, who lives about 20 minutes away from the hotel, where my room has a lovely view of the James River. How blessed am I?
Donna is totally blind in her left eye and has an acuity of 20/200 in her right. 20/200 means (in very layman’s terms) that what the “normal” eye can see at 200 feet, Donna would have to be at 20 feet to see that same print or object.
She’s been to Leader for orientation and mobility (O&M) services and had O&M while at the Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind. So she’s no stranger to this kind of stuff. She has some intersections on the familiar routes she takes that she’d like to feel better about, and that’s what we spend the morning doing.
This afternoon, Donna showed me how good she is at navigating the bus system in town. We went to the mall so she could get some Chick-Fil-A (remember back when you could ONLY get Chick-Fil-A at the mall?) and I could get an…wait for it…Orange Julius!!! (remember back when you could get an Orange Julius, like, anywhere?)
Yes, the Patrick Henry Mall in Newport News, Virginia, has an Orange Julius. It’s actually at the Dairy Queen, who bought out Orange Julius (curse you, Dairy Queen) but kept Orange Julius on some of its menus (bless you, Dairy Queen).
The mall in Green Bay, Wisconsin, also still has an Orange Julius connected to the pretzel place, Auntie Anne’s, or something like that. Green Bay and Newport News are two of my favorite places on the planet.
Oh, Donna did just fine, too. Whatever. I was basking in the glory of my Orange Julius a little too much to worry about Donna, who was doing quite well without me.
Day 3
It’s raining on the just and the unjust again.
Donna had an appointment earlier today, but it would have taken an act of Congress to get her outside during a rainstorm. She doesn’t like to get out while it’s raining with a “lightning rod” (cane) in her hand.
I tried to dispel her fears a bit by telling her that her cane is made out of carbon fiber, which is not a conductive material, but I didn’t even make a dent.
So, I had a little time this morning, which I used to drive over to Virginia Beach through a tunnel that would have made my mother very nervous. And take a bridge to get to the tunnel underneath the James River. Mom never would have made it.
Naval Base Norfolk is here, and there are some massive Navy vessels docked there. I needed Roger, my brother, to tell me what they all were. I mean, I can tell the difference between an aircraft carrier and a battleship. I played Battleship just like all well-adjusted kids my age. But there’s a lot more out there in the harbor besides aircraft carriers and battleships.
Roger would also be able to tell me WHICH battleship it was, where it was commissioned, and its battle history. There were also fighter jets flying over so often it seemed like an air show. He’d be able to tell me which fighter planes, exactly.
If you asked me, I’d tell you they were fast and groovy looking. Roger would be able to tell you a lot more than that. If you like that sort of thing, it was fun to watch.
I picked up Donna at the Hampton YMCA, where she works out twice a week, and we went right to work. She takes the bus just about everywhere she goes, and there’s an intriguing intersection between the bus stop and the Y.
We pushed the button and waited to see (and hear) what the traffic would teach us. Just a couple of cycles went by and we figured out that, if you push the pedestrian button, there is an all-stop situation. There isn’t an audible crossing warning, but if you’re paying attention, you can tell when all the traffic stops in all directions.
There’s plenty of time to cross if you start when all the traffic stops, but you have to be listening for it. Donna’s nervous about it, and I think you’d have to be a robot not to be, but if you can focus long enough, you can determine a safe crossing.
Light-controlled intersections are like that. There is a pattern. Sometimes you have to listen and watch for longer than a couple of cycles, but if you are patient, a pattern will emerge. If you can figure out the pattern, you can get across safely.
Day 4
My friend and colleague, Kate, who is a superior baker herself, recommended a local bakery to me, and it’s right on the way to Donna’s house. I am glad I didn’t know about it until my last day here, or I would have blown my budget here every morning.
I had loaded grits, which included (obviously) grits, bacon, cheese, potatoes, and something very mildly sweet. Odd, but it fit right in. My only complaint was that the bowl wasn’t bigger.
Photo description: A bowl of grits topped with cheese, bacon, green onions, and potatoes sits on a white tablecloth
I also ordered a cinnamon scone for later in the day. We’ll see how long that plan works.
Donna has some very specific intersections on which she’d like to work today. Ones she travels on a regular basis. Turns out, she’s very capable of crossing these and has great ideas about when to go, but really wanted someone else to say so as well. It’s always nice to have confirmation that you’re doing it right.
Very much like me knowing that my homemade salsa is better than anyone else’s, but having everyone else say so, too. It is what it is. I said what I said, and I’m prepared to back it up.
We hit another hairy T-intersection for our last one of the day. Another intersection at which Donna needs to cross with traffic turning towards her in the crosswalk. She has the right of way, but that doesn’t mean that people are going to obey the rules.
We talked about that, too. In my humble opinion, the best way to not get spooked by oncoming cars is to expect it to happen. That way, you don’t get surprised by it when it does. Like watching a scary movie (which I DO NOT DO, but the lesson still applies…) and expecting to be scared.
Is it still gonna scare you? Probably, but it’ll scare you less if you were expecting to be scared.
Photo description: A lovely cinnamon scone sits atop it’s brown paper wrapper. Just look at the cinnamon chunks in this beauty!
So, if you expect people to NOT yield to you in the crosswalk, when it happens, you won’t freeze up. You’ve got to let them go on and do whatever was SO important that they couldn’t yield to a pedestrian. You’re not gonna win that race, or that collision, so you gotta just let ’em roll on through, pick up your pace after that, and complete your crossing.
This is not easy. Please don’t get me wrong. Stepping outside of your home and traveling independently without vision is one of the bravest things you’ll do, or see people do.
Drivers are paying less and less attention every day. I swear, 9 out of 10 cars that go through every intersection are driven by someone with their phone in their hand. Don’t get me started.
Anyway, what Donna and all her blind brothers and sisters out there do every day is nothing short of an act of bravery. I get to watch people do that for a living, and I wouldn’t want to do anything else.
I DID want to be a cowboy or a fireman when I was younger, but I never pursued those. Moving on…
After saying “goodbye” to Donna, I drove over to Yorktown, the site of the last major battle in the American Revolution. Unfortunately, I got there with about 15 minutes left in the museum, so it wasn’t worth the cost of admission.
I’m one of those guys that reads every word on every display. I’m here, The site of the favored British blowing a 13-colony lead to the underdog Rebels is gonna take more than 15 minutes for me to be satisfied.
I did look around the grounds, as much as the U.S. Park Service road system would allow me to do, then I started a list of books I need to read about Yorktown. It’s quite a list already.
I’m not gonna even write “Day 5” underneath here because I’m willing the other, other airline to do what it promises me it will do.
You’re probably tired of hearing me complain about the airlines and the airport. I actually chose this profession, and this incarnation of the job itself requires a lot of travel. I knew that coming in.
I was watching one of those survival shows the other day. You know the ones where people volunteer to isolate themselves in some Godforsaken wilderness to compete with others to see who can outlast others for some cash?
Anyway, one of the contestants was complaining about how hard everything was, and he asked viewers at home to consider how easy it was to get up from the couch and get a snack from the fridge and then remember how hard it was for him.
Nope. Nossir. I will not.
I will get up and get my Fritos and bean dip from a can (so good) and not think a thing about your hardship because you volunteered to be here. You knew beforehand the South Island of New Zealand was not built for people to live alone without extensive training and luck, unless, of course, you’re from the Māori tribe, who were born and raised there.
And I will laugh, every time, at the self-proclaimed plant experts (there’s always one on these shows) who get violently ill after ingesting some vine or berry or seaweed something or another that they swore they’ve eaten before and clearly recognize as not only safe but also good for you.
All that to say, I try not to complain about the travel. Just like I told Donna about the traffic not yielding. You gotta expect it to happen. Still stinks when it does happen, but maybe not so bad.
Written by Barry Stafford, certified orientation and mobility (O&M) field representative.