By Edwin Cooney
Every June, for the last five years, I’ve taken the train east to treat myself to some of the most incredible folks I know. They consist of family, friends, and some whom I invariably meet for the first time.
This year I decided to fly rather than take the train. Air travel is every bit as awe-inspiring as travel by rail. Perhaps future generations won’t even think of this, but there’s an anticipatory feeling as your jet speeds along the runway and finally, effortlessly -- it seems -- glides into the air with all of that weight on its slender wings. As I headed northward from Oakland toward Seattle and then aboard another aircraft eastward toward Chicago‘s busy and even treacherous O’Hare Airport, I realized how magnificently we are insolated from the technical feats performed by the professionals who provide safe air travel. It’s all so clean, smooth, and precise!
As American Eagle Airlines flight 4213, bound for Buffalo, sat on O’Hare’s tarmac, a thunder and lightening storm burst upon Chicago with an intensity that stopped all airport activity outside of the bustling terminal. “We could fly in the storm as planes are struck by lightening everyday,” insisted Jenny, the young flight assistant based out of Phoenix. “The problem is that members of the crew who load the bags and supplies onto the aircraft aren’t allowed to work on the tarmac during thunder and lightening storms. Then, of course, there’s that little problem of the fueling truck…” She certainly needed to say no more about that!
Two and a half hours would pass before American Eagle flight 4213 finally headed toward Buffalo, New York and my friend Bob.
Bob is an exceedingly warm, generous man who likes to keep his genuinely caring nature a secret. Bob lives his warm generosity, leaving it to you to discover it all by yourself. Although extremely efficient and businesslike in almost everything he does, his "all business" manner takes a back seat to his love for his family, his friends, his God and his country. He doesn’t want you to talk too much about it, but he’s a man of genuine patience and considerable tolerance. Every year he meets and escorts me about Western New York with the solicitude of a guardian.
The main event of my first four days was our annual New York State School for the Blind Alumni Association reunion. During these days, old friends and acquaintances recall their youth within the cloistered grounds of that institution we call NYSSB. Like all “families,” there is the intimacy of familiarity with all of its degrees of misunderstanding and affection. Each year, we learn of one another’s struggles and successes at school and after leaving school.
Most dramatically this year, there was David who first attended school a year or so after I entered NYSSB. David struggled through both institutional and parental mistreatment well into adulthood. He overcame such mistreatment through his capacity for deep spirituality and is now President of the Board of Directors of the Self Advocacy Association of New York State. SANYS -- a non-profit organization -- advocates for the dignity and the aspirations for those most readily shunned by society through no fault of their own. Despite his trials, David, now a professional, seeks to bring out the best in everyone he meets.
Musical entertainment is always a big part of our alumni weekends. We have our stars -- Sukosh, Joe and Pastor Charlie -- whose talents stand out with special brilliance. There are those, however, whose talents grow on you over the years. Two such are Richard and his wife Gayle who, along with blindness, suffer from substantial hearing loss. Yet, he on the trumpet and she on the guitar provide a special kind of entertainment. Their double disability only serves to magnify their talent. Even more impressive is their spontaneous good nature that inevitably draws both respect and genuine affection to them.
Also, there is my buddy Paul whose sunny disposition and generosity makes you enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of his companionship. We were roomies this year and we will be again next year unless one of us finds that special lady to dominate our time.
Next, there is Ken. I’d never met a “Hall of Famer,” until my friend Ken Meyer was recently elected to the Massachusetts Broadcasters Hall of Fame. Ken loves to entertain and he’s superb at it.
My “brother” Chet and his wife “Lady Linda” are a combination of love, depth, and candor and are thus invaluable to those lucky enough to be close to them. Chet both challenges and acknowledges you with genuine and generous intensity. As a friend, he’s a real keeper!
Then there is Helen, the wife of our late and much beloved orchestra teacher, who is not only a magnificent musician in her own right but a wonderfully sensitive Braille transcriber and mapmaker. Although forever saddened by the loss of her husband, it is impressive that she has had the energy to play the viola for the Genesee County Orchestra (which they both helped found in 1947) well into her eighties. Even more wonderful is the supporting love and encouragement she offers to those she holds dear …even me!
Dr. Wayne, a man I shall cherish forever, has lent me his encouragement for nearly forty years now. (Don’t tell him I mentioned the number of years!) Our annual luncheons are always a delight. We discuss old acquaintances, current events and, of course, politics. I’m grateful for his good health, which allows his wisdom to flow.
I spent time with the members of my sort-of adopted family. Edith, the lady I often called “Mother,” who lived to be 100 years and 10 months old and died last October 1st, was for me its heart. I met with Sharon, Edith’s daughter, who is sweet, considerate, and gentle just like her mother. Next, there’s Ann -- Edith’s niece -- who often tries to hide her deep concern for others behind a teasing manner. Then, there’s Gordon -- Edith’s nephew -- whose mild manner and willingness to listen, compels people to want to always be close to him.
My final five days were spent with my best friend Roe who, in addition to editing these weekly musings, concerns herself with the comfort of others more than just about anyone else I know. To describe her as precious is an understatement. Her husband Mark cares and shares as does his wife.
Finally, it was time to board the first of three separate aircrafts run by Delta and head westward to California. The cool interior of each plane masked the hot airport runways, to say nothing of the high mountains and turbulent weather it skirted as we crossed the rivers, the plains and the highest of the Rockies. On the way, there was Maureen and her sister Beth, Stacy and Amy who provided pleasant conversation thus breaking the inevitable boredom of cross country travel, however sanitized and comfortable.
Like each of you, I’ve known lifelong personal failures and disappointments, each for which I must bear some responsibility! However, every year I’m reminded once again of the quality of the friends I have tried to describe here to you, however inadequately. To know them is to be blessed. They are even more magnificent than I’ve portrayed them.
William Butler Yeats once put it this way: “Think where man's glory most begins and ends, And say my glory was I had such friends.”
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
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