# Old Story



## tinacrabapple (Sep 4, 2015)

When I was in my early thirties, now 37, I was in my last year of graduate school for special education.  I was completing my internship and was on a brief break from school.  I have always followed the school schedule as I have always been a teacher in some form or other.  

I was taking the train through the Vermont mountains down along the coast into NYC.  It was a ten hour train ride in the fall of 2006.  I was sitting in an isle seat by the door that separates the compartments.  I didn’t particularly care for my seat, but the train was crowded for some reason and this was the seat I ended up in.  The train is always an adventure and this is the way the traveler must see the drudgery of a crowded train.

I am always jumpy and restless on the train as I have a hard time keeping my body under control.  It is rather hard for me when I have a cranky seat mate.  The jumping can be a real bother, particularly when I cannot settle down.  So as my usual routine dictates of moving this way and that, I was fairly self-conscious of the restlessness.  My seat mate was an older man with a deformed face.  A rather grotesque figure with wild red hair and an imposing frame and the softest hands.  He noticed this move about and said, “I am deaf and blind, can you finger spell?”  

I have never felt such animation as I felt at that moment.  He said, “Finger spell into my hands, I can feel the letters.”  So I spelled into his hands yes and then we began to talk.  We first reviewed the alphabet, the kind of background thing you have to do in order before you can really get into the conversations.  It was a kind of negotiation or a certain establishment of your relational foundation.  

He asked a question and then I’d spell out the words and he’d yell out the word as he processed it.  It was a very weird sensation, because our conversation was so public, because he was so loud. But when you communicate with someone in such a way, it becomes the most intimate and private exchange that I had ever experienced.   People may listen, but it really only matters what he thinks.  I have no concern whether people listen or not, it doesn’t affect us or what we say.

He told me that he was the fourth child from a wealthy family.  He grew up in New England in relative happiness, given the degree of his handicapped nature.  He said his three siblings were all doctors and despite his limitations, he was a very smart man.  He explained the degree of his blindness and the level of how hard of hearing he was.  He was legally blind, but could see some levels of light and shadow.  He could hear, but you had to scream for him to comprehend.  I did this a few times, when I couldn’t get my point across.

Of course this sort of conversation to me was like a drug for a drug addict.  I couldn’t get enough of the conversation.  It was remarkable learning about this man’s story.  He was returning to his girlfriend (of something like ten years) after a short retreat to a center for the blind.  It was like his annual visit to all his doctors, all located in this center.  He had a watch that shook every fifteen minutes with a particular vibration that corresponded to each hour and minute.   It was a small egg device that he kept in his pocket.


He said he did not work, but qualified for disability through the state.  He said he had no religion and was a complete athiest.  He was enlightened and just lived to exist within his limitations in a state of happiness.  I could tell that he was truly satisfied with his life as he describes that he lived a completely stress-free life.

Of course, this was a time of recovery for me.  I was in great pain. I told him that I had not been able to work when I first got to Vermont, because there were no teaching jobs.  As I spelled my story, I began to cry. “I just don’t know why God won’t let me work.”  He laughed a great hearty laugh and said it was silly for me to get so upset about it.  He was of a very reassuring nature and said that I’d work- it was just a matter of time.  He was the kind that had good judgement of people and circumstance, because he was right.  He asked if I cried as I spelled, because he could feel my tears on his hand.  It was a rather heartbreaking scene, but rather humor to my new friend.

Anyway, we went on to talk about things.  It was 5 hours of this exchange.  We had to take a break after 2 hours, because he could tell I was fatiguing.  It was a matter of ten minutes before we started up again.  A woman across the iasle watched and listened as I cried my heart out to this man.  She was a rich woman who enjoyed watching a freak show.  I turned toward her and almost hissed at her once, but decided it was best to just ignore her and pretend she was a freak herself- since she could not see the beauty in this very human exchange.  


He told me 20 minutes before he had to exit the train, and at this I was heartbroken.  The last 5 minutes before he got off the train, he stood leaning his leg against mine and I had my arm wrapped around his leg.  The train stopped and I let go and he walked off the train as if he never knew me, returning to his silent and black world.  I watched him greeted by his family and I was a bit sad but mainly shocked by what had just happened.  When I got home, I cried for this man for over an hour.  My husband could not understand me.  I was so upset, because he made me miss my grandfather, in a very desparate and aching way.  I would get myself bound up over things and my grandfather would always tell me that these little things that we sit around worrying about really don’t matter.  What really matters in the end is in the meat of our relationships and the ability to just let go and stop worrying.  My little sister has a tatto on her chest of a young woman throwing her winged heart into the air.  It simply means that if you let go, in most cases, your heart will return to you.


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## Bard_Daniel (Sep 4, 2015)

Hey Tina!

This really was an interesting piece. I mean this in the best way possible. I did not quite know what to expect when I began it but I enjoyed the twists and turns that the story took. You also have a good style but I would recommend checking your second paragraph for the amount of "I's" you used. It was not obvious in the rest of the piece but it was a little distracting there.

I really liked this. Although I am not an expert in non-fiction it kept me glued to the page and I did not break once before I finished it. 

Really solid. Keep up the good work!


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## tinacrabapple (Sep 5, 2015)

Thanks for reading.  I have to make a few edits.  Appreciate the encouragement.


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## Plasticweld (Sep 7, 2015)

Tina I also enjoyed your ability to draw in the reader in what started out as a  mundane train trip.   You did a great job with the pace and weaving not only the current story line in but enough of the back story so that reader could relate to what you were feeling.    I liked the way you mentioned the touch and feel of holding his hand and touching his leg.  While many writers work hard on dialog, they skip what is sometimes one of the most important aspects of human communication and that is all  of the non verbal cues that transpire between people.  Those mentions are what really add power to your piece...


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## EmmaSohan (Sep 7, 2015)

Beautiful story.


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## TMarie (Sep 21, 2015)

I smiled pretty much through the entire story.  Seems your encounter with this man was exactly what was supposed to happen for you that day on the train, in the seat you didn't much care for.


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## escorial (Sep 21, 2015)

a brief encounter can change your life....was what I took away from this..a bit dramatic I know but I so like these snippets of a moment in a life..your life..great read


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## bestseller (Sep 22, 2015)

Excellent Tina. I am able to visualize your train journey and the man, and also feel the energy between the two of you. 

I get a feeling you still long to see this person, isn't it?


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## JudyLea64 (Sep 25, 2015)

Such a wonderful memory to have! My criteria for how much a story moves me is whether or not it brings tears to my eyes. This one did. Very nice job!


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