Bill’s Story - Chapter 7
Floyd Hasinger from the Blind Center gave me six mobility lessons. In spite of the lessons, I still managed to get lost sometimes.
I got off the bus west of 7th South in Salt Lake City. All of a sudden, instead of being on the edge of the road, there was no edge of the road. There was no curb, just asphalt. My brain reared up, demanding to know, “Which direction am I going?”
I was fighting panic. I retraced my steps, trying to get back to 7th and 7th. I turned. When you’re blind and you turn, you hope you’re turning 180 degrees.
Guess, sidetrack, curb, corner. I could hear traffic on 7th East. Fortunately, I came across two guys on bicycles. I asked, “Can you help me?”
They said, “Well, just follow us, we’ll show you the way.”
So away we went.
I got lost in Manti walking down 5th South, on 2nd East where that pink house with the big tree and the metal shed is. I walked on the south side of street. Every intersection is an asphalt jungle. There’s no direction from grass or curbs or anything. If you swing your cane wider right, you’ll turn right.
So I’m walking on the asphalt, and then it’s like someone stuck a house in the middle of the road. I actually hit the shed. I turned to listen and try to get my bearings. It was the oddest sensation, because it seemed to me that the creek was running uphill.
Then I heard a familiar voice as Richard Peacock asked, “Are you lost?”
“Which way is west?”
“Turn to your left.” I turned toward the sound of Richard’s voice and was re-oriented.
Then I went off to school in September.