Sept. 28, 2002 - 09:13 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Walk A Mile

Not too sure of a title this morning. Just sitting here, cogitating on the will to live I guess. I remember Old Mary who used to work at the same machine shop I did. She had arthritis, particularly in her hands. On a cold winter day she would come in a bit early and start the coolant pump at her machine and direct a flow of it over her hands. The coolant was at room temperature of course, which was warm to someone just coming in from outside. She looked like she was washing her hands but was merely trying to get a decent range of motion in her painfully arthritic hands.

I remember a young man who worked at the last place I worked. He was hired under a small program dealing with handicapped folk. He walked with canes, so slowly one would almost make the wise crack that a chalk mark would have to be made to determine if he was moving at all. He went slightly faster than the minute hand on a clock. He would be at work as early as the guard shack would let him in and would be at his work spot on time. He never took breaks because by the time he could get to the break area it would be time to go back. He carried a brown bag lunch and made his way slowly to the break area, ate and headed back. Yet he was a happy soul and loved his job.

I guess I could make a fairly long list of people I knew in the past who were handicapped, crippled or to be downright frank somewhat broken. Me included of course. But there is one moving thing about people with hampering ailments, physical or mental and sometimes both, they are all trying their best to live a good life, earn a living, and obtain a bit of pleasure along with it.

Sure, I can park out in the south forty. In fact I used to do so just to get the extra bit of exercise I felt I needed and left room for those who needed to be close to their job. Now I still do, when the "handicapped" spaces are taken up by those spry, bouncy youngsters who are, "Only just gonna be a minute." But then when I get in the store I must sit a bit before I can get a buggy to lean on as I walk the aisles.

Sometimes a person has a disability that is not easily seen but is hampered nevertheless, that one often is considered to be lazy or slow or downright malingering. I remember a friend who found out years later that they suffered dyslexia. How difficult it must be to make one's way when the mind doesn't interpret things accurately.

There are some places I don't go because of the trouble it is for me. Most supermarket groceries have seating just inside of the door. Some department stores do also.

Nowadays even the 7-11's make restrooms available as well as most other places open to the public. In recent years most public restrooms have a stall to accomodate wheelchairs, and that is a boon and a blessing to those who are wheel chair bound. I do however remember that I would not shop Big K for a long time because one had to go to a counter and get buzzed in by the person working there. Then not until the person got a quick eyeball look to see if you might be carrying in merchandise with you.

Companies and city organizations try to adapt to accomodate people and are sometimes forced by law to do so. Yet there are still places in my town that a person in a wheel chair can not get into. Now in my city the administration is seeing to it that the curbings are cut and a short incline is laid in to allow wheel chair drivers to cross the street and not have to be let down off the curb and pulled up by other folk at the next sidewalk. But there are places where they can't get in when they get there.

Handicaps (damn I hate that word) are apparent in people who have to use crutches, wheel chairs, canes, etc. Those who have bent or crooked backs, arms in slings. Pulling little carts with oxygen bottles. In a way they are fortunate because people who have been well raised will extend the courtesy of cheerfully helping a bit.

But many people of the world suffer from and are hampered by invisible ailments and handicaps. High blood pressure, the silent killer, affects many of our population and can put one out of action entirely. I'm crippled and it is quite obvious, so I am given a hand where and when needed and appreciate every kindness shown to me. So, I am among those who do get help. Other people are not so lucky and have to struggle along the best they can.

When I suspect some one is bent in some way, disease, mental problem or orthopedic awfulness, in their shoes mentally I try to Walk A Mile . . . . . . . .

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