Taking The Blind Kids to Church

Taking the Blind Kids to Church

Overwork School for the Blind

Our Lady of Lourdes Church

Philadelphia, PA

1966

I went to Catholic school.  So it was mandated that all of the school children go to mass together each Sunday.  We met in the chapel and each grade sat in its assigned area and roll was taken.  And if you were not at mass, it was expected that you arrive at school on Monday with a note from your mother with an acceptable explanation.

Our lay teachers weren’t there.  But all of the nuns were and they kept order with a firm hand and killer glaring looks.  No one was allowed to deviate from the expectation of sitting up straight, praying and kneeling.  No one, except the blind kids from the Overbrook School for the Blind.  They were pitied by the nuns.  So they were allowed to rock and occasionally, but not too frequently, grunt a noise. But when they strayed too far, a nun would comment, “Alright, that’s enough of that.  You can behave just like the rest of the children.  You’re blind remember, not retarded.” 

This did not usually stop the behavior because the blind kid was usually unaware that he was the target of the nun’s reprimand. Realizing this, she would have to go over and poke the kid to get his attention.  This would startle him for two reasons: (1) he had not seen her coming so he hadn’t anticipated her poke and (2) he wasn’t accustomed to being addressed in such a harsh manner.  So with no adult from the blind school to fend for him, he would coil up and try to make himself invisible from this unknown authority figure.

There was no adult from the blind school because we brought the kids to church on Sunday.   We, the sixth grades, were given that responsibility.  We were hand-picked by the nuns and it was our responsibility to be at the blind school every Sunday at 8:30 AM to walk the blind kids to church.

I remember being picked.  I was absolutely thrilled.  I was honored.  And I approached this responsibility with all the commitment as if I was protecting the President of the United States.  I made up my mind that no blind kid was going to fall or stumble under my care.

My first day of my new assignment was raining. It was cold and dark. It was midwinter.  But that didn’t matter to me.  I had important work to do that day.  I got up, put on my school uniform and walked proudly to the blind school.  I was on time, in uniform and ready to complete my assignments. I felt as if I should have saluted someone upon my arrival.

We met in the lobby which was completely dark. No one had turned on the lights.  We could barely see.  But then we could hear the kids coming down the hallway, their voices echoing and bouncing off the cement walls.  And I was filled with so much anticipation.

I was matched with Susie Hart.  She was a year older than me and a foot taller. She was very pretty and she held herself a little differently from the others.  She didn’t rock.  And she wore make-up. I liked her right away.

When it was time to leave, I commented to Suzie that is was hard to see because the lights weren’t on.  I was nervous about taking her down the steps in the dark.

“I don’t know why they don’t turn the light on.” I whined.

“Because we don’t need them,” she nonchalantly replied.

"Why?”

'We’re all blind.  We don’t need lights.”

Good point, I thought to myself. This thought had never entered the realm of my self-centeredness.

With that, she put my hand on her shoulder and confidently said, “Follow me; I’ll lead you out of here.” And out we went.