My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of my $2500 insurance deductible on my way back to work while riding Chicago's "L" train. I was almost too distracted to notice two blind men boarded the train. The two were no more than 18 or 19 years old and were being assisted by an older woman. She gave detailed and helpful instructions to the two guys in a way that was friendly yet firm. "Be mindful of the gap between the platform and the train car," she advised them. "You always want to count the number of stops until it's yours just in case the announcement isn't audible," she added. One of the blind guys who donned a baseball cap appeared more confident than the other. The other reminded me of Conan O'Brien: pale, thin and had a hairstyle much like Conan's. The other detail that struck me (and tugged at my heart) was the look on his face. He looked absolutely, 100 percent terrified. He struggled to board the train and find a seat--his stick was flailing left and right while he reached out frantically with one of his hands trying to find something to hold. The older woman was there to assist, but her role was clear: teach these young blind men to be self-sufficient. She was calm, patient and reassuring, but wasn't there to coddle. She told them not to worry if she wasn't there because there would always be someone willing to help. Within ten minutes, the trio exited the train and exited my life almost as quickly as they entered. To this day, I still wonder about these two boys. What happened to them that caused their blindness? Has the older woman continue to assist them or are they out on their own? What if they try to board the train during rush hour when it's crowded and people are less patient? I haven't shook the image of the frightened guy with the Conan hair and may never do so.
Phil Collins, Elton John, and Gloria Estefan dominated Adult Contemporary radio back in the 1980s and '90s, yet have disappeared from modern radio. Seemingly, the only time you ever hear them is at the grocery store or your local CVS. This blog remembers the music, the stories and the quirky characters from my days working in Adult Contemporary radio.
Saturday, September 22, 2018
Sarah McLachlan "Fallen"
Sometimes life has a way of gently reminding us that things may not be perfect in our life, but they could be far worse. I spent my morning at the Dermatology Department of Rush University. Over the summer, my primacy care doctor noticed a couple suspicious looking moles on my back and referred me to Rush. With my fair skin and collection of freckles and moles, I'm apparently more at-risk for melanoma that your average Joe Suntan. I had to wait two-plus months for their first available appointment, but finally had my full body screening in September. There was one particular mole that concerned my dermatologist, so he took some pictures and arranged for a follow-up visit. Thankfully, today's visit concluded that there was nothing to be concerned with, and I walked away with a clean bill of health and instructions to be vigilant and lather on the SPF-50.
My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of my $2500 insurance deductible on my way back to work while riding Chicago's "L" train. I was almost too distracted to notice two blind men boarded the train. The two were no more than 18 or 19 years old and were being assisted by an older woman. She gave detailed and helpful instructions to the two guys in a way that was friendly yet firm. "Be mindful of the gap between the platform and the train car," she advised them. "You always want to count the number of stops until it's yours just in case the announcement isn't audible," she added. One of the blind guys who donned a baseball cap appeared more confident than the other. The other reminded me of Conan O'Brien: pale, thin and had a hairstyle much like Conan's. The other detail that struck me (and tugged at my heart) was the look on his face. He looked absolutely, 100 percent terrified. He struggled to board the train and find a seat--his stick was flailing left and right while he reached out frantically with one of his hands trying to find something to hold. The older woman was there to assist, but her role was clear: teach these young blind men to be self-sufficient. She was calm, patient and reassuring, but wasn't there to coddle. She told them not to worry if she wasn't there because there would always be someone willing to help. Within ten minutes, the trio exited the train and exited my life almost as quickly as they entered. To this day, I still wonder about these two boys. What happened to them that caused their blindness? Has the older woman continue to assist them or are they out on their own? What if they try to board the train during rush hour when it's crowded and people are less patient? I haven't shook the image of the frightened guy with the Conan hair and may never do so.
After this incident, I helped a blind person who rode the train one morning during rush hour. He struggled to find his way from crowded train to crowded platform to crowded escalator. I grabbed hold of his arm and reassured him that I would get him through the sea of people. While standing on the escalator, a man gave me a tap on my shoulder. At first, I thought he wanted something but soon I realized he was just giving me a tap to say "you're doing a good deed". It's a friendly reminded to help those who may be afraid to ask for help...and to acknowledge those who do offer assistance.
My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of my $2500 insurance deductible on my way back to work while riding Chicago's "L" train. I was almost too distracted to notice two blind men boarded the train. The two were no more than 18 or 19 years old and were being assisted by an older woman. She gave detailed and helpful instructions to the two guys in a way that was friendly yet firm. "Be mindful of the gap between the platform and the train car," she advised them. "You always want to count the number of stops until it's yours just in case the announcement isn't audible," she added. One of the blind guys who donned a baseball cap appeared more confident than the other. The other reminded me of Conan O'Brien: pale, thin and had a hairstyle much like Conan's. The other detail that struck me (and tugged at my heart) was the look on his face. He looked absolutely, 100 percent terrified. He struggled to board the train and find a seat--his stick was flailing left and right while he reached out frantically with one of his hands trying to find something to hold. The older woman was there to assist, but her role was clear: teach these young blind men to be self-sufficient. She was calm, patient and reassuring, but wasn't there to coddle. She told them not to worry if she wasn't there because there would always be someone willing to help. Within ten minutes, the trio exited the train and exited my life almost as quickly as they entered. To this day, I still wonder about these two boys. What happened to them that caused their blindness? Has the older woman continue to assist them or are they out on their own? What if they try to board the train during rush hour when it's crowded and people are less patient? I haven't shook the image of the frightened guy with the Conan hair and may never do so.