[Missouri-l] FW: Blind Man in the Rain

[peter altschul]

I had been working in all day and decided to go out for a walk 
around 6
PM.  It was an odd decision, given that the weather service had 
all day
been predicting heavy showers around that time.  The sky was full 
of
gray, low hanging clouds, yet I picked up my umbrella and 
strolled out.


I took my usual route which typically leads me up Regents Park 
Road in
Primrose Hill.  I wasn't quite sure where I was going.  Usually, 
I make
my way to a restaurant, a coffee shop, or a newspaper agent, 
depending
on the hour of day.  This time, once I reached the park, I turned 
around
and started going downhill in the direction I had come from.  It 
had
started raining and within seconds the sky managed to release a 
deluge.
It seemed a good idea to seek the shelter of one of the pubs I 
frequent
in the area but for some odd reason I decided to continue on back 
to the
apartment I am staying at.

Once I was close to Chalk Farm tube station, I saw a blind man 
trying to
make his way in the heavy rain.  He was wearing a navy blue suit 
with
faint stripes, a tie, and a dark blue shirt.  His hair was white 
and he
gave the impression of being in his late fifties.  His blindness 
was of
the kind that caused his eyes to stay shut all the time and he 
was
banging the sidewalk nervously with his white cane, while his 
other hand
clutched a charcoal laptop cloth bag.  Water was pouring all over 
his
face and clothes.

I ran after him and, walking to the left of him, asked if he 
could use
some help as well as an umbrella over his head.  He immediately 
grabbed
my right elbow and thanked me profusely and asked if I was the 
mailman.
I said no but that I was staying with friends nearby and would be 
happy
to walk him home.  We walked slowly and he said that he worked in
Holborn and takes this route every day.  He said how grateful he 
was
that I came along as he would have been drenched, which, indeed, 
he was
a short way from being.

What struck me about the blind man as I was approaching him with 
my
offer of assistance was not that he was getting wet.  Rather, his 
half
frown, half confused look which gave the impression of someone 
lost on
familiar terrain.  The heavy rain and thunder seemed to have 
dulled the
senses that a blind man would rely on for direction in drier
circumstances.  He was straining to hear the sound of his 
footsteps on
the pavement, which during a normal day, no doubt, had a familiar 
echo,
depending where he was in relation to his apartment building.  He 
could
no longer use his nose to identify routine smells along the way.  
Even
reaching out with his hand to feel a certain brick wall would 
have been
difficult and slippery.

I was grateful for that blind man in the rain, probably more than 
he was
for my presence.  I had left the apartment I am staying at angry 
at some
work and other developments in my life.  It is unusual for me to 
get so
upset these days but there you go.  It was one of those 
afternoons.  The
blind man reminded me that even when faced with such adversity as
blindness, there is room for optimism; he could still find a job, 
work
everyday and commute back and forth to his office.

The blind man also reminded me that sometimes we do not 
understand the
reasons for our actions and all we have to go with is a gut 
feeling; an
instinct of sorts.  I certainly did not know why I was leaving 
the
apartment at that time in that kind of weather.  I really had no
specific place to be at.  I could have sat on the couch and 
watched the
evening news.  But, I found myself helping a blind man walk from 
the
tube station to his apartment building and realized afterwards 
that we
really do not need to understand everything fully from the start;
sometimes the reasons for our actions become clear at the end of 
our
journey.

But most of all, the blind man reminded me that we all go blind 
once in
a while in this life, even while walking on familiar ground, 
heading
home.  And we all need someone to reach out to us every now and 
then and
ask if we need help or a shelter over our heads until we make it 
back
home.  I know that the blind man would never have stood in the 
rain
asking for help; he would have tried and tried and tried until he 
made
it to his apartment building.  And he would have suffered 
unnecessarily
in the process.  He is too proud to do otherwise.  So are you and 
me.

It was at that moment that my eyes filled with tears and I tried 
to keep
my voice steady as the blind man and I made small talk.  I left 
him at
the door of his apartment building and walked back, with tears 
rolling
down my face along with the raindrops.

The odd thing is that I had received an email this morning from a
Primrose Hill real estate agent informing me that she had found 
an
apartment which fits my specifications.  Attached to the email 
was a
photo of an apartment building.  When I looked at the photo in 
the
morning, I did not think much of the building.  Well, now I know 
one
person who lives there; one who is full of strength, perseverance 
and
grace.  It was the blind man's building.

June 2009
London