Through Our Eyes: Snow Blind
Buster Olney, the host of the “Baseball Tonight” podcast, was having an interesting discussion with two of his fellow analysts regarding the future of Mets first basemen Pete Alonzo. The voices of the podcast came through clearly on my noise cancelling headphones and, perhaps you imagine me listening in a comfortable chair, warm and isolated from the frigid winter that has descending on Kansas City in January. I wish that were true; however, I am bundled up in a jacket, scarf, hat and gloves, looking not unlike the little kid from “Christmas Story.” I’m laboring away to remove the snow from my driveway as I long for the days of summer and return of baseball with every shovel full of snow.
“They never seem to talk much about the Royals on this show,” I thought to myself as I heave another shovel full into the yard.
Maybe you are under the misconception that since I am completely blind, I might escape this household task. If so, let me assure you that even blind people must shovel their drives – just like everyone else – and I am no exception.
Winter is indubitably my least favorite season, and this is not only because I loathe being cold and loathe even more having a greatly inflated gas bill. Maybe I could tolerate the the cold, or the short days even, perhaps the extra high gas bills … but the one thing I can’t abide is the hateful frozen substance that tries hard to interfere with my independence.
A lot of people like snow. Love it even. Not me.
I get it. To most people snow is pretty. But the aesthetic is wasted on me. When I hear that we are expecting 4-6 inches of snow, all I can think of is the issues I’ll be confronting. But before you dismiss my complaints as cranky grumbling, hear me out.
Living by Sound and Texture
As an independent blind man, so much of my traveling is on foot with a cane. Under normal circumstances that is not an issue and one I am quite used to, yet, nothing alters that more then the presence of snow. Like most blind people, I rely heavily on sound, using echo location to navigate around buildings, cars and other obstacles. When it snows, all these sounds are muffled and much harder to hear and then distinguish.
Another tool of independent travel is the ability to feel different textures under your shoes and the tip of your cane. It is imperative that I can feel the difference between concrete and grass, but it is hard to find that difference when every surface is covered in snow. When it snows, a curb is no longer a curb, and a step is no longer a step, it is all just snow (until you try to set foot on it)
Down I Go
Last winter I was unable to distinguish between my front steps and the grass next to them, and ended up rolling down all ten of my steps. As I lay on my back in my driveway, wet and scraped (my pride hurting most of all), I am absolutely certain that all of my neighbors were looking out their collective windows and laughing at me.
Even as the snow melts, the environment that I have committed to memory, quite literally changes over night.
Transportation Gets Harder
I, like most blind people, rely heavily on public transportation to get around. A heavy snow can make it difficult, or in some cases, completely impossible. Oftentimes, a snowstorm will delay or completely shut down city bus routes, as well as ride-share services. I can lose one or more days of work because of that.
Groceries
For some the ability to have groceries delivered to their doorstep is a handy convenience; for me it’s a necessity. If the roads are snowy or icy, grocery delivery services are either booked up entirely because no one wants to get out, or they are completely unavailable due to the dangerous road conditions. This makes my Friday evening tricky when I have my children with me and there is no way to get food for us.
Let It Snow … Less
I’m sure if I could see the snow I’d appreciate it more. How it drapes the world in a cottony blanket of softness. Even the way sounds become muted, and a peaceful pall settles across the city (until the snowplows begin the incessant scraping at all hours of the night).
Just know that, for a group of us, it changes how we manage and navigate our world. But like we’ve always done, we’ll find a way to manage. We have to. Just spare us a thought while you enjoy the winter wonderland. Because likely we’ll be working on figuring out how to get to work, get groceries, or even pick our way down our stairs and across our driveways.
