Day 1
“My life on the road, oh I love it and I hate it. Sitting in airports, glad and frustrated and waiting for (planes) to arrive” (Billy Sprague).
Today started at 5 a.m., with a 5:30 notification that the plane was delayed by “172 minutes,” then delayed another hour, then took off another 45 minutes later. On the way to Atlanta, we were on our final approach when storms took over and we diverted to Augusta because we didn’t have enough fuel (yikes) to be put in a holding pattern. (How much fuel did we have when we left Houston?)
At Augusta, they wouldn’t let us deplane, then made us deplane, but wouldn’t release anyone’s luggage. The luggage was going to Atlanta whenever the plane did. The only restaurant at the Augusta airport, completely overwhelmed by passengers fueled only by pretzel mix, Cheez-Its, or cookies, quickly announced that they had nothing but chicken and French fries. While I didn’t partake, when the plane finally took off with us AND our luggage, there was a very distinct smell of poultry and potatoes.
I got to Atlanta and barely connected with my third (and final) option for Springfield until tomorrow. I sat in the waiting area with a group who were traveling home from Greece, so they literally started their trip tomorrow, but almost 18 hours earlier than I did. I think that’s how that works.
Anyway, I am glad to report that men all over the Southeast were waving at automated water/soap/air/paper towel dispensers pretty much in unison. I’m also happy to report that Springfield has all manually controlled fixtures and the men (including me) all waved at them, too, until finally realizing that they WERE manually controlled. I really feel as if they do this on purpose and we’re all being filmed for some sort of documentary on the actions of adult males in airport bathrooms. Somewhere, Pavlov’s dog is salivating. I can feel it…
Photo description: Jesse walking with a long white cane to his bank on a sunny day.
Day 2
Goodness gracious, Day 2 came quickly. It feels a lot like Day 1 still. I wasn’t certain where I was when I woke up. The generic hotel room didn’t narrow it down, nor did the generic TV channels at the hotel. A sign pinned to the bulletin board across from the elevators on the first floor welcomed me to Springfield and it all finally came together for me.
I’m in Springfield to work with Jesse, who’s applying for his 4th dog from Leader and needed a brush-up on his O&M (Orientation and Mobility) skills. We’re gonna be lucky with the weather here this week, too. It’s only supposed to be on par with the surface of the sun and not above. Really looking forward to this.
I met Jesse at his apartment where he gave me a little history lesson about his vision. He’s been visually impaired his whole life and totally blind for about half of that. He’s had O&M at the Missouri School for the Blind, and from the state of Missouri. He’s also had three dogs from Leader: Zeuss, Frankie and Beau. All Labrador retrievers.
He’s hoping for #4, and I tell him the same thing I tell everyone who’s hoping for a dog: Whether a dog shows up in your life or not, O&M training isn’t gonna hurt. The training provided by Leader Dog and any other O&M specialist out there is going to make you a more confident, more independent traveler. Get all you can. From us or anyone willing to provide it.
Jesse and I head out to slay our first dragon. He wants to figure out a way to walk to his bank to take care of his own business. He knows his area really well, so I’m just hanging out watching while he gets us to the parking lot. Here is where he asked me to step in to identify a safe way inside the building across the evil, evil parking lot. We found a way. I don’t like it, but he could not only do it safely, but could re-create this route on his own. That’s important. We’re not working on one-time stuff. We’re working on routes and orientation to those routes that clients can do on their own in a very short amount of time.
We got inside the bank and located the teller counter and discovered another entrance that was closer to the sidewalk on which we traveled to get here. A short trip across the edge of the evil, evil parking lot and maybe four steps across the grass, and he can get from the sidewalk to the front lobby of his bank. ON HIS OWN.
We will practice it a few times more before I’m gone, but he’s gonna be able to do it. Hic Sunt Dracones. Here be dragons. Not here. Not anymore. Boom.
Day 3
How is it Day 3 already? It was just Day 2. I closed my eyes for a minute and it’s Day 3. Goodness gracious.
Jesse and I headed to a big, bad intersection. Hic Sunt Dracones. It’s a bear, too. five lanes across both streets: Fremont and Battlefield. There’s a dedicated right-hand turn lane, or slip lane, for each direction, then an island with pedestrian signals across that slip lane. And Battlefield has a concrete divider between the east- and westbound lanes. Hic Sunt Dracones. For real.
One great thing Jesse has going for him is that he doesn’t get too excited about anything. Traffic whizzing all around him and he’s as cool as a cucumber. He has really good sound localization skills, and he has to use all of them to determine where the traffic closest to him is coming from.
The slip lane isn’t as bad as it sounds, mainly because it’s one-way traffic and only the width of one lane. Not too bad, considering what’s next. The five-lane streets on either side of us are busy, which is also good because (Come on, everyone! Say it with me:) Traffic is your friend. Listening to traffic is how a person who is blind or visually impaired crosses the street independently. It’s almost easier to cross a busy, five-lane street than it is to cross a quiet two-lane street. The sound of traffic actually guides you across. Jesse expertly used the traffic noise to help him maintain his alignment as he went. He made so many micro-adjustments based on how near or far traffic sounded, it was really fun to watch. He experienced a lull in traffic on one crossing and veered away from traffic and discovered the median between the east/west lanes, turned toward the intersection, went around it, and kept on going. Really groovy stuff.
I always wonder what people watching us are thinking about what I’m doing there. Just some schmuck following the blind guy across the intersection, not really helping. I’m more like a hockey goalie, just putting Jesse back into play.
Jesse made it across just fine, then negotiated another evil, evil parking lot on his way to locating a restaurant at which he likes to meet his family for dinner sometimes. He can do this. ON HIS OWN. Hic Sunt Dracones. Not here anymore, either. Boom.
Photo description: Jesse pressing an accessible pedestrian crossing signal while holding a long white cane.
Day 4
Jesse and I took our longest walk of the week today. There’s a Culver’s going the other way down Fremont that he would like to get to. There are three more lighted intersections on the way, and the route takes us beside Springfield Mercy Hospital, a huge complex. All this means that traffic on Fremont will be steady all day, and steady traffic is a plus when you’re trying to cross a light-controlled intersection.
I’ve told Jesse that I was gonna compare him to a bull in Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove. Old Dollar (mostly referred to as “the Texas bull”) was the senior bull in the herd that the two main characters, Gus and Call, put together to take to Montana. After a big storm and stampede, Gus observes Ole’ Dollar’s absolute indifference to the weather as he steadily plods along the trail. “Ole Dollar don’t get excited about nothin’, does he?” Jesse reminds me of Ole’ Dollar. He doesn’t get excited about loud traffic or traffic being right next to him. He just keeps moving along. Slow and steady wins the race. Every time.
He made it to Culver’s and we figured out a pretty decent route across the evil, evil parking lot. On our way back, I noticed that Ole Dollar started weaving as he moved along the sidewalk. He is diabetic, so we stopped in the shade so Jesse could check his blood sugar. It was a little high, but he had just eaten lunch. We both assumed the exercise after eating would counteract it, but not too long after our break, Ole Dollar started weaving again.
We took another break in the shade and I decided to call the lesson. Jesse and I are both now certain he was just tired. There’s a difference between dog shape and cane shape. Jesse doesn’t get out as much or go as far as he did with any of his dogs. He will admit to that. We also went farther today than we had before because it was not the surface of the sun today. It was very pleasant, actually. Straight-up fatigue.
This will get better as Jesse gets out more with his increased confidence in his skills. If you’re gonna walk with a dog, you gotta get out and go. A lot. So, if you’re interested in working with a dog as a guide, you need to get yourself into good walking shape. I don’t think that there’s any question about Jesse being able to get into this kind of shape. He definitely has the motivation.
Springfield is known for a few things: Game show host Bob Barker (The Price Is Right), actors Brad Pitt and John Goodman, and golfer Payne Stewart were all born here. Route 66 begins here in Springfield. The original Bass Pro Shop is here, too.
Springfield is also the home of the very first Civil War battle west of the Mississippi. Wilson’s Creek runs just southeast of Springfield, and in August of 1861, a large Confederate force was encamped along its banks. NOT along the high ground just north of their position.
If you’ve studied any kind of military history, you’d know that taking the high ground is imperative. Even Obi-Wan Kenobi knew that in his battle against Anakin Skywalker (soon to be Darth Vader). Gotta take the high ground, or you’re gonna pay dearly to get it back. It didn’t work well for Darth, or the Confederates.
It didn’t work out well for either side, actually, as Union forces lost more men holding the high ground than the Confederates did taking it back. Anyway, the National Battleground has a great museum with a film that explains the battle, a great map to follow, either in your car or on foot. If you’re ever in the area and like that sort of thing, it’s worth the trip.
Photo description: The World’s Largest Fork sculpture standing in front of a three-story brick office building.
Day 5
If I didn’t do this blog every day, I would have honestly lost track of what day it was. I know it’s Day 5 because I typed it last night when I was done with Day 4.
It happens sometimes. The days all seem the same, especially at the beginning. When I get to the client’s home and we get going, the day obviously separates itself from other days because we do such unique stuff every day.
Today included going back to the bank, just to make sure Jesse had the route down, then we went up to the big, bad intersection to ensure the same thing. Jesse displayed his Old Dollar traits again in the face of maddening traffic.
We stopped off at the mall to see if the jeweler could put a new battery in his watch. Mall travel is a pain in the butt. I’m just shootin’ ya straight. Malls that don’t contain an Orange Julius are almost pointless. The Battlefield Mall is a vibrant place with lots of busy stores, but no Orange Julius. Shame, really.
And the jeweler couldn’t fix Jesse’s watch, so at least we partook of some welcomed air conditioning while we were investigating. We did a little travel across the evil, evil parking lot, a route not too poorly thought out by the mall folks, and we were back on our way.
After work, I did a little more exploring. The original Bass Pro Shop is here in Springfield, so I took a spin through. It’s bigger than most Bass Pro Shops, but had pretty much the same stuff.
Meredith, a certified orientation and mobility specialist at Leader, called me as I walked outside. I sat in the shade and talked to her just long enough to consider buying some kettle corn that Bass Pro Shop was smart enough to place outside in the parking lot. I usually eat popcorn like it’s my last bite on the planet and someone’s trying to steal it from me, but I resisted. Meredith will never read this, so I’ll tell y’all that I am a genius and had all the answers she’ll ever need. I’ll also tell you all that the canoe incident last summer was all her fault.
I went from Bass Pro Shop to the World’s Largest Fork. Yes, you read that correctly. The World’s Largest Fork is in Springfield, Missouri. It used to be outside a restaurant near the starting point of Route 66, but now it’s in front of some private business. Out of place, for sure, but nonetheless, the World’s Largest Fork.
In my travels, I’ve been lucky enough to find several World’s Largest things: baseball, ball of twine (both in Kansas), artificial catfish (North Dakota), and cedar bucket (Tennessee. Thanks, Sarah!). And now, the fork. Kate, another Leader Dog colleague, has told me about the World’s Largest wooden nickel that resides somewhere near Iowa City. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
Photo description: The World’s Largest Golf Club statue outside a golf and miniature golf facility with the club leaning high above the building entrance and a large golf ball positioned near the base.
Day 6
The rain is falling on the just and the unjust this morning, so we decided on a delayed start. This gave me time to go find one more World’s Largest.
My friend Dion told me last night that Springfield is also the home of the World’s Largest Golf Club, and it’s located not even ten minutes away from where Jesse and I have been working all week. Who knew? Besides Dion, I mean…
Anyway, I got to the driving range and there it rests on the edge of the office. Looks like a three- or five-wood. Jesse and I have one more dragon to slay: the intersection of Fremont and Sunset. It has dedicated right-hand turn lanes on all four corners, and push buttons, but nothing audible to aid in crossing like up on Battlefield. This will be harder for Jesse to figure out, but he will be able to do it. It’s a busy intersection. Really busy, but traffic is your friend, right? The parallel surge should be constant and not too terribly hard to hear. We’ll see.
As it turns out, the dragon is not entirely slain. Jesse needs more practice than we can get in a day, but he has a great foundation and, like Old Dollar, he’ll keep plodding along until he gets it down. I have faith in him. The ball is in his court now, and he’ll need lots of hard work and determination to get through, but so did the task of driving a herd of cattle from south Texas to Montana.
Written by Barry Stafford, certified orientation and mobility (O&M) field representative.