Man with a Stick

[Music] A pity. So young, so straight and tall. Probably an athlete [Music] before, feel better. He wears a blindfold so that he can teach those who are blind how to get around by themselves voluntarily. He shuts out the sun, the sight of kids at play, the glance of a pretty [Music] girl. There must be an easier way to earn that daily dollar if that dollar is all you're after. But as we all know, man doesn't live by bread alone. There are plenty of men at the Industrial Home for the Blind of Brooklyn and similar agencies who count in their paychecks not only the dollars, but the satisfaction of teaching a blind man to step out alone independently, happily toward the light. Like Joe here, Joe's got a long way to go. Not so long ago, Joe never left his chair by the window, listening to the world outside. a world he thought was lost forever. He'd get up to grope and stumble through the apartment, restless and frustrated, obsessed with an unreasonable irritation. [Music] And that's how Keen finds him and is glad to find him that way. Good and sore. Shows he's still in there swinging even if at the wrong [Music] people. Mad at the world, the seeing world. Mad at Keen. Another one of those who can see. But Maggie is just the gal who knows how to handle a sailor when he gets thick. She's doubling in brass now, keeping the place going and seeing that Joe keeps [Music] going. Downstairs, the cane is put in Joe's hands. Properly used, it can help take him anywhere. around the corner for pipe tobacco, across town to that new job or that new show or that old friend to a train, a plane, an ocean liner. So listen and learn. Hold it so crooked down. Index finger along the cane. It adds 40 in to your index finger. Long, yes, but light. Light enough to carry all day and never tire your wrist. Now hold your hand front and center. Swing the cane left to right. You've got to swing as wide as your body. Stay in it and stay safe. Clear the way for the coming step. Swing left, step right. Swing right, step left. Cut the rhythm. Okay, try it alone. Keep the cane centered. Swing that arc even. You're doing fine. Fine. No use pushing it. Couldn't push it if he tried. And what a relief to sit down. Back aches, necks stiff. feels like he's walked a million [Music] miles. The next morning, Joe's waiting for [Music] Keane. He's raring to go, trying too hard. And Keane knows it. Knows it by Joe's tight grip. Knows it by Joe's grim lips. Knows it by Joe's body bent forward. It's a strange feeling walking alone and unseeing. Joe wants to throw up an arm to protect his face, but he pushes it forward in an effort to hear until it seems to taper into all knows. There are children shouts and heels clicking. and snatches of conversation and a laugh, the roar of a truck. Sounds come at him from all sides. And underfoot, the smallest crack comes up to snag his cane. He'll never learn. He feels it's all a fake, but he keeps going. It's that or back to the armchair. [Music] But as Joe keeps trying, he begins to like and trust Keen a [Music] bit. He learns to keep walking a straight line. He learns that sidewalks all slope to the curb. He feels that slope with his feet. His cane tells him by the rattly hollow sound where cellar doors are. One of them may be open. He knows when he walks too near the curb, his cane hits air, a fire plug or a lampost. He learns by listening. The tap of his cane amplifies when he passes an open door. His nose tells him when he's passing the butcher, the barber, the cleaner. There's the sun on his cheek when he gets to that open lot. The changes in the sidewalk paving are as good as street signs to him. He listens, he smells, he feels. Sounds, odor, touches begin to fall into familiar grooves. He makes a great discovery. Things smell, sound, and feel the same way as before he lost his sight. Nothing's changed. Everything is still there, waiting for it. And he's got to tell Keen all about it. And Keen says, "Fine, fine. Let's have a cup of coffee on it. Across the street. You've got to get across the street. It's like taking your first swim alone. It's like asking your girl for that first kiss. It's like facing up to a bully. It's like all the firsts you ever took and survived. Let's go. Let's get across the street. You listen for cross traffic. Traffic in front on right and left. Probe forward with the cane. Place toes and shoulders parallel to the curb. Wait for Keen to guide you across. He takes your arm. Better take his instead. Okay, let's go. Hold the cane tip in front of left foot. Just off the ground. Not low [Music] enough. Let's try again. Let's recross. Now probe your front square off. Listen for traffic. Where there's a traffic light, there's always a box switch. You can hear it click. Off we go. down with that cane tip. That's the ticket. The next morning finds Keen waiting at an appointed spot, a little nervous. Joe's doing his first solo. And here comes Joe crossing the street hand in pocket, confident. He'll still make plenty of mistakes, but not anymore because of fear. Joe is over that [Music] hump. It's going to be a bus ride today. When it pulls up, listen for the sound of the opening door. Probe forward with your cane. Get your hand on the bar. The first step is wide. The second brings you up to the driver. Get a seat near him. Depend on him. He won't let you pass your stop. Joe will try it again tomorrow and the next day and the next day. He gets to know the route by the street pavings, by the turns, the traffic cop [Music] whistles, the jing over car tracks or cobblestones. It's best not to rise till the bus [Music] stops. Now use the cane, step down, probe out, and step off. Keen and Joe soon try the subway. The handrail leads him down along with the crowd. [Music] He walks toward the click of the turn styles, the clink of the change. [Music] He finds the platform edge with his cane, steps back and starts [Music] walking. He uses the line of posts as a guide. At the center of the platform, he faces the edge and waits. He'll hear the hum of the wheels long before the train pulls in. Here it comes with a whoosh and a clatter. [Music] Now listen for opening doors. Face toward the nearest one. There's always someone to offer an arm. Joe will have to ask directions at first. Soon he will learn by sensing the track turns, by counting the stations, by the longer express stops. All these will be signposts against the time when he will take that daily trip to his new job. [Music] You're on your way, Joe. Our hats are off to you and to all who will [Music] follow. Heat. Heat. [Music]