by Jo Taliaferro
(Editor’s Note: Reverend Taliaferro’s adventures, which she described first in her postings to the ACB e-mail listserv, began when she left the home of a friend after a routine visit late one afternoon toward the end of February. We asked Jo for permission to publish her story in “The Braille Forum” because her experiences are ones that so many of us can relate to. You will also find this article in the latest edition of the pedestrian safety handbook, now available for download at the ACB web site, http://www.acb.org)
Recently, I had an experience with my incredible guide dog and our local transit authority which I’ll never forget. My adventure began when I was escorted by my friend, a cane user, to a very busy street. My friend explained that I was standing on the northeast corner of the intersection. I understood that I should cross to the southwest corner and face west, where I could catch my bus going north.
Yes, there was a traffic light, but I took my time, making sure it was safe to navigate the first part of the confusing and unfamiliar crossing. As I was gaining my bearings, a woman grabbed me and tried to force me bodily into the street. The harder I tried to convince her that I preferred to manage on my own for the safety of my dog and myself, the more she aggressively interfered.
“Come on, come on, it’s safe,” she said, as I heard cars turning in front of me! I could feel the fear and anger rising in me and wanted to scream bloody murder at this outrage! I knew that my dog was distressed, and traffic was all around me.
I dropped the harness, praising Whitley as I gritted my teeth. Horns honked; my friend, witnessing my struggle from the curb where I had been minutes before, tried to demand that she let go of me but the woman was absolutely deaf to our pleas. When we got to the east side of the intersection and I still had one more crossing to make, I pulled free of the woman and made a supreme effort to do some educating. But the woman had vanished.
I choked back tears. I had been in partnerships with dogs for 25 years so why this? My heart was in my throat as Whitley and I walked across a quieter street to the bus stop sign, which was not identifiable by bench, shelter or change in sidewalk texture. I regained some composure, hugged my dog, thankful that I could expect the next leg of our journey to be uneventful.
I climbed aboard the bus, told the driver where to let me off and he proceeded to tell me where I should sit! I went instead to a forward-facing seat deeming that to be safer for the dog and more convenient for other passengers. No stops were called and the driver claimed that his enunciator system was not working! Apparently his mouth was not fully engaged either and I had the impertinence to wonder about his eyesight as well.
I did manage to reach the stop I had requested thanks to alert passengers. The driver said in answer to my query about a traffic light, “Yeah, you’re OK to cross here.”
Knowing I was on the same extremely busy street I had been so unceremoniously dragged across before, I asked for assistance getting lined up with the light in order to make my crossing. The driver refused to get out of his seat and I stepped from the bus to the sound of one more cacophony of whizzing traffic and turning vehicles. I was standing on grass and unable to find a safe place to cross the street.
I knew that, if I walked north, I would reach yet another crossing with only a stop sign. Had there been a pedestrian light there, I could easily have walked the mile to my house.
I concluded that the corner was so rounded that I wouldn’t be able to line up properly to make a safe crossing. Gathering my reserves of courage and the harness handle of the best dog in the whole world, I turned to walk south keeping my traffic on my right so I could slog through the mud and slush along the busy thoroughfare in search of a human being, a sidewalk, anything which would serve as a landmark to guide us. We found only more brambles, melting snowbanks and a large dose of weariness.
Not wanting to project more stress on Whitley, and knowing there must be a traffic light ahead, I praised her, reassured her, saying, “Good girl! We’re almost there! We can do this!”
I’m a pastor by profession and I’m not supposed to lie, but the truth was, I had no idea when we would come to rest and be able to head back north toward home.
On we sloshed. I knew there was another traffic light ahead but just as before, there was nothing to assist me to make a safe journey to a familiar street. It was so close and yet so far!
We traveled onward, feeling fatigued and worried. It was getting later and later. Whit guided me around brambles, mud holes, gnarled trees and eventually to a strip of pavement! We had unwittingly rounded another very wide curve and were now walking east! It was only afterward that I understood why there were no people and why I had to be so careful to keep my parallel traffic on my right! We had passed a cemetery and a golf course, so it was no wonder I wasn’t feeling up to par because we were in a desperately grave situation! I hoped that my sense of humor would see me through till I could sob with mixed emotions in my own bathtub!
Hearing cars moving a little more slowly, and sensing we were near civilization, I prayed for the smell of a McDonald’s, the sound of a door, the stamina to keep on keeping on. My cell phone had died long before — probably back at the cemetery — so I relied on Whitley’s good judgment and survival instincts.
We were rewarded by a friendly voice asking if we needed help. I requested assistance in crossing a street but once on the other side, nothing felt right! The gentleman assisting us asked what he could do so I told him I wanted to call a cab. I was trying not to let my stress show but it was obvious that I had little energy left. I was a 62-inch, mud-spattered ragamuffin and I knew Whitley was grimy and soggy.
The stranger, vacationing in my town and not familiar with the area, offered us a ride. I hesitated. Who was he? Where would he take us if we got in his car? I wanted to get home, not even more lost, frightened, raped or killed.
I asked some questions, got his driver’s license number, realized that he was a dog lover and made the decision to take him up on his willingness to get us home. He helped me into his car and I gave him directions to my house while he described landmarks and supplied street names. When we reached my house, I offered to pay him and he refused. I then directed him back the way he had come and waited outside my front door until he had gone. Then, a very muddy dog and a bespattered woman headed for the basement where I saw to Whitley’s needs, groomed her and gave her a meal fit for a queen, raw carrots and treats included.
As for me, I threw my sopping clothes on the basement floor, jumped into my birthday suit and headed for a bubble bath and soapy tears of relief, gratitude, love for a well-educated dog and life itself!
Addendum
Jo Taliaferro has written to the president of the board of directors of her local transit authority offering to help educate bus drivers, office staff, scheduling coordinators and the general public concerning safe travel for people who are blind or visually impaired. In her role as advocate, she has called both the city office of traffic engineering and the state of Michigan transportation safety engineers to request audible traffic signals where street crossings are life-threatening for a pedestrian who is blind or visually impaired.
The city office indicated, in response to her request, that audible signals are placed where great numbers of people would be crossing a street, not just one or two people. Neither office seemed to have a clue about how to solve the problem. Such a request had never been made before, according to the offices of traffic safety, and putting up accessible signals would be very costly. One traffic technician said, “No one is really concerned about pedestrian safety any more.”
Jo wishes to express her gratitude to all who provide competent mobility instruction and believes her dog and her training school deserve praise beyond words!
Below are some safety tips for blind travelers, from one who has been there.
1. Carry a cell phone when traveling and make sure the battery is charged!
2. Follow your instincts if you accept help from a stranger.
3. Try not to project your own fear onto your dog so the dog can do the job it was trained to do.
4. Remember that consistency and lots of work with a dog in familiar places become assets when you are lost.
5. Following a terrifying experience, it is crucial for you and your dog to pull yourselves up by the harness handle and take a walk so as not to become paralyzed by the fear and stress of a traumatic situation.
6. Be an advocate for pedestrian safety for all people as well as accessible public transportation.