Day 1
I’m in Morgantown, West Virginia, to visit Debbie. Get this y’all: She’s had dogs from Leader for 40 years! Can you imagine? She’s getting a little orientation and mobility (O&M) brush-up while waiting to apply for her next dog. I sat with her first thing this morning to get to know her and learned all of her dog’s names (Lady, Shaylee and Molly) and all of her trainer’s names. It’s amazing what she remembers. I have a hard time remembering what I had for breakfast, and she remembers who trained her first dog in 1984. His name was Mickey, and he ended up being one of Leader Dog’s CEOs. You see that kind of loyalty from our clients. A lot of dog guide schools experience this. If you think about how our organizations change and/or improve their lives, you can understand why.
We made our plan for the week and went outside to brave the cold of downtown Morgantown. We did a lot of route scouting from the vehicle first, attempting to get a feel for the routes Debbie wants to practice. There are several one-way streets in Morgantown, many of which aren’t always one-way. I looped around a 10-block area at least five times while looking for the statue of Don Knotts. It’s right on the sidewalk outside of the Metropolitan Theatre on High Street. Don was born and raised in Morgantown and went to WVU. His statue port rays him sitting while holding his Barney Fife police hat in his right hand and a script for The Ghost and Mr. Chicken in his left.
Day 2
Because Sarah wrote the last blog, I didn’t get to share this tidbit: When I flew out to Arizona in December, I had a connection in Salt Lake City, one of my favorite airports. It has the best approach I’ve seen so far: over the mountains and into the valley of the Salt Lake. It’s just gorgeous. The airport hallways are wide and tall, with large floor-to-ceiling windows so you can see the mountains all around you. Anyway, I was in the men’s room, waving at random water faucets, soap dispensers and paper towel machines. I hear over the PA, “The person who left their bison drum at security, please return to claim it.” A bison drum. You don’t hear that every day, and I said that to the man beside me, also waving at a water faucet. He looked at me like I had six eyes or something, but I stayed right there long enough to hear the announcement again. Someone traveling with a bison drum left it at security in Salt Lake. Seems unique enough to not forget, but maybe they travel with bison drums all the time. Maybe that would make it easier to forget. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t forget my bison drum…
Debbie and I did a little backward chaining on her route downtown from her home. It’s a very walkable route, but there’s still a lot of snow and ice on the sidewalk closer to her home, while downtown is pretty clear. On this section of the route, there’s one really tricky crossing, and it’ll take some practice for Debbie to get good at it. The wind was blowing, and it made the already cold temperatures feel worse. I packed my Leader-issued, at-least-20-lb Arctic Explorer parka, and I’m sure glad I did. It took up so much room in my bag that all I brought was it and a toothbrush, but I was happy to have it, and my toothbrush, today.
We ate at a local pub called Gibbie’s, a place right across the street from the statue of Don Knotts and the Metropolitan Theatre. The same family owned both places at one time, and it’s rumored that there was/is a tunnel underneath the street that gave entertainers at the Met easy access to the speakeasy that was in the pub during Prohibition. The menu from which I was reading this trivia neither confirmed nor denied the story of the tunnel, but I sure hope it’s true.
Day 3
Downtown Morgantown reminds me of downtown Nacogdoches. The history, the brick streets, the street designed by a drunk priest on a blind mule. Or a blind priest on a drunk mule. I can’t remember. Despite everything being bigger and better in Texas, Morgantown, specifically Dorsey Street, has Nacogdoches beat: Hairpin, switchback, blind turns of more than 90 degrees on a road no wider than a game trail. One crossing was so sloped downhill it would have made an Olympic luge contestant uneasy. Debbie had been doing this route with her dog for a long time and didn’t realize just how much the dog was doing to keep her aligned for her crossings. To do this with a cane is almost a superhuman feat. This situation is not unlike many other long-time dog guide users experience when they transition to their canes as their primary travel tool. The lesson to be learned here is to maintain your cane skills, guide dog users. You never know when you may need them. I’d be happy to come out and help refresh you on those skills (especially if you live in South Dakota, Alaska or Hawaii, as they are the only three states I have yet to visit…), but you can help yourself by keeping sharp on those skills.
Debbie, her son James, and I went to see the West Virginia Mountaineers play basketball tonight against the Houston Cougars. Debbie and James are big WVU fans, and it was fun to see them pull for their team. The home team was not victorious, but they made quite a run in the second half and made it a really exciting game. I ran into the mascot on the concourse before the game, and he told me that if I had any eligibility left, I could take his job as mascot. It was also great to see James interact with his mom. He does guide technique so effortlessly — simple things, but not so simple.
Day 4
We spun around downtown twice on a route to some of Debbie’s favorite stops: the Blue Moose for coffee or tea, Hoot and Howl (we call it “Hoot and Holler”), the farmer’s market, and a chicken and French fry place called Layne’s (theoretically from Texas, but I’ve never heard of them). We made two laps, practicing crossings, locating doors, estimating distances and recovering from veers. Debbie has been getting better with her cane every day. It’s been fun to watch.
I don’t remember how we got on this subject, but she was telling me that if you have a sick stomach, you can pour some liquor into a saucer, light it on fire to burn off the alcohol, and drink what’s left. She says it works every time. She said it would cure all kinds of lower intestinal issues for men and women. Has anyone ever heard of this? Seems a little more complicated than just cracking open a ginger ale, but interesting nonetheless.
Day 5
Because of the lateness of getting into bed because of the game, I didn’t check any news, so I woke up to the horrible stories of the plane/helicopter wreck over D.C. last night. Just awful. Makes things like basketball games and mascots seem pretty trivial.
Rain. A lot of rain. And a lot more promised (and fulfilled). Debbie and I spent our last day together reviewing all of her routes, and she even wrote some of the directions. Better to say she brailled her directions. She used a Perkins Brailler, the original Braille writer. Sat it on her lap and banged it out WAY faster than I’m typing this blog (which isn’t saying that much). My mother taught me to type well before Ms. Williams attempted to in high school. I could type “now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country” better than anyone I knew. I learned how to type grade one Braille in college from Dr. Kief. I’m sorry to say, Dr. Kief, that I’m not as fluent with the brailler or the abacus you taught me, but Debbie sure is fluent with it. She typed out four pages in no time and would have made you proud.
I’m heading back to Pittsburgh tonight in order to fly out tomorrow morning. I ate at my favorite Pittsburgh restaurant, Primanti Brothers, across the street from the hotel. I had the corned beef and cheese this time. I figured, secretly, you wanted to know. It was fabulous. I returned to the hotel to learn of another plane crash over Philadelphia this evening. I know these things happen, but it sure does make one think about keeping the rental car another day and driving on home. Weird times, for sure.