by Vicky Prahin
Stanley Doran’s name is familiar nationwide because of his lifelong dedication to making the world a better place for blind and visually impaired people. Because Stanley had lost most of his vision by his early teens, he knew, personally, about the challenges and prejudices faced by us every day. Stanley had ideas for making some things a little better, and when Stanley had an idea, he worried at it until it became a reality.
Stanley Doran started making a better life for people who are blind when he was in his early 20s. He combined his love of animals with his desire for independence to start the dog-guide school which became Pilot Dogs of Columbus, Ohio. There, he pioneered such practices as teaching dogs to use escalators and training children, some as young as nine, to travel with guide dogs. For many years he and his wife Fontnae operated Pilot Dogs of Columbus, Ohio, from their home, with Stanley training dog-person teams, and Fontnae keeping track of everyone, including their own children, Demetra and Ronald, and cooking and cleaning for what became hundreds of people and dogs.
When his work at Pilot Dogs came to an end, Stanley took a look around for something else to do. That endeavor was the Central Ohio Radio Reading Service (CORRS), which was one of the first such services to be organized to provide news, entertainment, and word of community events to those who cannot read the daily papers, magazines, or community calendars. With two friends, Stanley got CORRS up and running in 1975. The radio reading service was so successful that many other communities quickly picked up the concept. There are now radio reading services across the United States.
During all of this, Stanley was in constant contact with people around the country by tape, sharing the milestones and achievements of his growing family, playing chess by mail, giving advice to others with ideas. These personal communications gradually evolved into an informal production via which many people could share experiences, ask for suggestions, and make friends; over time this production became the “Newsreel,” a taped magazine featuring the actual voices, songs, and demonstrations of gadgets, aids, toys, and practical odds and ends of the participants.
I first became acquainted with the Doran family shortly after I moved to Columbus more than 20 years ago. For several years I volunteered to help get the “Newsreel” mailed out, read mail, and, eventually, to package for mailing the products sold by Doran Enterprises. Stanley became my friend and mentor, introducing me to people and ideas, always ready with advice, a new pun, or, on occasion, criticism, which, though given bluntly, was on the mark and never offered without a solid suggestion for improvement.
When the “Newsreel” was incorporated in 1986, the office moved to a downtown location in Columbus, where a small staff continued putting out regular monthly issues and special editions which focused on areas of particular interest to recipients. Stanley invited me to serve as office secretary and on the board of directors. I accepted these invitations gladly. Over the next couple of years, as the office took shape and the “Newsreel” continued to go out regularly, I often took my daughter Crystal, then a toddler, with me to the office. She napped on a quilt in the storeroom, rode on Stanley’s shoulders through the streets of the city at lunch time, played with his grandchildren, and got into occasional mischief.
Stanley retired from the directorship in 1997, but he remained active, dropping in to help out, attend board meetings, and enjoy social events. Stanley, who had been active in the NFB for many years, joined the Columbus chapter of the American Council of the Blind of Ohio in the late 1980s. He was actively involved in the local chapter and never missed a state or national convention if he could help it. His interest in gadgets, his fascination with people, and his curiosity about the world around him made him a well-known figure at all of these gatherings.
Stanley Doran wasn’t shy. Those of us who worked with Stanley won’t deny that he could sometimes seem opinionated and abrasive, but he was one of the most honest, upright, and caring people I have ever known. He was always willing to help others. He never let go of that little boy inside himself; he enjoyed jokes, riddles, and puns, and he loved to play with toys and gadgets. If something flashed lights, made noise, or did anything unusual, he had to try it. He especially liked anything which involved audio-recording. He tape-recorded interviews, meetings, sounds on the street, and — one of his favorites — birdsongs. He will be greatly missed here, but Stanley Doran will live on for as long as there is a “Newsreel,” for as long as there is a radio reading service somewhere, for as long as there is a person working with a guide dog.