There’s Something About Mary
The 49ers/Cowboys game was boring, even though I took great pleasure in watching the ineptness of the Cowboys’ defense. The Buccaneers/Panthers game was even worse. I decided to take my friends up on an invite for a beer at Spruce Street Harbor Park and get back in time to watch Sunday Night Football.
As I walked on Spruce Street, just in front of the Vietnam War Memorial toward Columbus Boulevard, I noticed a blind woman on the other side of the street. Her service dog was in her left arm. Her cane swung back and forth in her right hand. She struggled getting down the sidewalk as it was littered with obstacles (bike parking racks, parking authority voucher machines, and poles). I glanced over once, then twice. I had the urge to help, but just kept watching her as I walked to the park.
I thought about the TV show What Would You Do? where they put people in circumstances and watch how they react. A common scenario is a person in need of assistance and most of the general public just passes by. What if this was an episode of that show? I didn’t want to be the person they always point out who was “thinking about helping, but didn’t.”
I walked over the woman and approached her with a “Do you need any help, Miss?” When I got close to her I could see she wasn’t much older than me, maybe mid forties. She had a beautiful black lab service dog with her. I startled her. She jumped back a little. I imagine being in a dark and confused state and a guy’s voice suddenly appearing from nowhere would startle just about anyone.
I asked her where she was going. Spruce Street Harbor Park coincidentally enough. I asked if she could follow my voice. She asked to grab my arm. Arm in arm we approached Columbus Blvd. She seemed nervous. The sounds of cars speeding by had to be overwhelming and she had no idea if I was a lunatic and looking to walk us both into traffic. I felt her grip on my arm relax when we stopped at the curb. Her name was Mary and her dog was Garland.
I led her across the street once the WALK sign came on. We still had a couple of lanes to cross as the WALK sign counted down the final five seconds of pedestrian safety. I’ve been to places and intersections where they have audio tones to alert the blind of when it is safe to walk. Tonight was the first time I truly understood their importance. There’s no reason every major intersection doesn’t have these. They are all wheelchair accessible. Adding the audio alert to the lights doesn’t seem unreasonable.
I walked her into the park, onto the barge, and over to the food stand. She said she was okay from there on. I sat with my friends Sarah, Rhonda, Bobcat, and a Yards Philly Pale Ale.
I saw a guy walking toward us with his hands full of food carriers and Mary and Garland on his arm. They passed by us and I heard the guy say to the people directly behind us “Hey guys, I have a guest joining us. This is Mary.”
I told Mary she was sitting right behind us. It was kind of a weird coincidence. We all laughed.
When the family left the Park, we had Mary join us. I had warned her that I was leaving soon because I wanted to get home and watch the late football game. Then I felt bad about mentioning that I was going to watch the game, knowing she couldn’t watch anything. I also mentioned how beautiful Garland was. Then I realized that I was making a judgment of Garland based on her visual appearance. Her coat was perfect. I felt guilty again because she couldn’t see Garland, even though I know she appreciated a beauty of Garland deeper than I was expressing.
One of my friends mentioned the full moon rising. More guilt. Sarah mentioned a trip to the porta-potty minutes earlier where the hand sanitizer dispenser was filled with the pink antibacterial soap. She didn’t realize it was soap until she had already started rubbing it into her hands. When she told the story, she kept emphasizing that it was the PINK soap. Again, something Mary couldn’t relate to. If she had vision at some point in her life I guess she could. However, from talking with her I feel like she may have been born blind.
During the pauses between our conversations, I realized how much we rely on our vision and take it for granted. So often we ask each other if we’ve seen any movies lately, what we are watching on television or if we’ve read any good books lately. That made keeping the conversation going difficult because I became obsessed about not saying anything that would make Mary feel uncomfortable or talk about things she couldn’t enjoy. It didn’t matter that I knew she could listen to books on tape or the audio of movies. I couldn’t help but being worried about my choice of words. I had Sight-Guilt!
Mary said she needed to get going because she had work early in the morning. I walked her back to where I met her. As we crossed Columbus Blvd. on our WALK sign, cars insisted on turning in front and behind us, which made her grad my arm tighter. Safely on the other side, she assured me she was fine from there on.
When I got back to my friends, I realized that I wasn’t the only one suffering from this newly discovered Sight-Guilt. All of us realized what we were saying and we all felt that guilt. MOON. BEAUTIFUL. PINK. We rehashed the entire conversation. I think we all realized tonight just how much we take our vision for granted.
I’m sure if we spent more time interacting with blind people we’d learn that they are used to being in situations like that and aren’t bothered by it. I used to go to the store for an elderly blind woman, who lived up the block from us, when I was a kid. That may have been my only interaction with a blind person up until tonight with Mary and that had to be almost thirty years ago.
I’ll probably continue to suffer from this Sight-Guilt until I have more interactions with the blind. In the meantime, I’d like to thank Mary for introducing me to her dog Garland and the good company. I’d also like to thank her for reminding us not to take our sight for granted. And, for god sake Philadelphia, get those audio alerts at street crossings for the blind!