[nfbmi-talk] Here is the Illinois Independent

[trising at sbcglobal.net]

2533 Sandalwood Circle
Ann Arbor, MI 48105

June 28, 2014

Hello Michigan Federationists:

     Here is the Newsletter of one of our neighboring states. Here is the Illinois Independent.

Sincerely,
Terri Wilcox
Secretary, National Federation of the Blind of Michigan


The Illinois Independent
Summer 2014

Editor: Deborah Kent Stein
President: Patti Gregory-Chang

CONTACT INFORMATION
President: Patti Gregory-Chang, (773) 307-6440, pattischang at gmail.net
Editor:  Deborah Kent Stein, (773) 203-1394,dkent5817 at att.net
Formatting: Janna Stein
Newsline® Edition:  David Meyer, (708) 209-1767, datemeyer at sbcglobal.net
Limited Print Edition & Braille Edition:  Bill Reif, (217) 801-2996, billreif at ameritech.net
Proofreaders: Meg Dowell, Steve Hastalis, Glenn Moore, Bill Reif, Brianna Lillyman
Website:  Byron Lee & Gregg Rosenberg, webmasters, www.nfbofillinois.org, webmaster at nfbofillinois.org

A NOTE FROM THE EDITOR
What is the Illinois Independent, you may be asking yourself.  Whatever happened to the Braille Examiner?

At its last meeting, the Newsletter Committee decided that it is time for our publication to have a fresh name, a name that will 
better reflect our purpose and philosophy.  We also wanted a name that would let out-of-state readers know which affiliate the 
newsletter represents.  Several good possibilities were suggested, and the committee chose Illinois Independent above all the 
others.

I hope you enjoy the Summer 2014 issue of the Illinois Independent!


TABLE OF CONTENTS

A Letter from the President, by Patti Gregory-Chang
Memories of My Father, Part One, by Dutch tenBroek
Proctors and Problems: My First Experience with a Certification Exam, by David Meyer
Travels in Tunisia, by Brianna Lillyman
iBRAL Is Here! By Robert Gardner
Ring the BELL in Illinois, by Debbie Kent Stein
Finding Apps with VIA, by Denise Avant
Tips and Tricks: Straight Street Crossings, by Leslie Hamric
A Father's Tribute, by Mike McDermott
Allen Glickman: In Memoriam, by Steve Hastalis

* * * * * *

A LETTER FROM THE PRESIDENT
by Patti Gregory-Chang

In just a few days many of us will head for Orlando, Florida, to take part in the 2014 convention of the National Federation of the 
Blind. Our national convention will help us focus on the recent achievements and current concerns of blind people across the 
country. While our national initiatives are extremely important, much of the work that sustains our movement goes on at the state 
and chapter levels. In this article I will report on the work we have been doing here in Illinois over the past several months and 
discuss our plans for the months ahead.

PROGRAMS

In 2013 we in the NFB of Illinois (NFBI) achieved one of our long-term goals. We sponsored our first BELL (Braille Enrichment for 
Literacy and Learning) Program. Five of our BELL families attended our 2013 state convention. As I write this article, our 2014 BELL 
program is underway. Please see the article on BELL elsewhere in this issue.

The NFBI also reached out to families and teachers of blind and visually impaired students through our spring teacher/parent 
seminar, "Making It Happen," which was held in Chicago on the weekend of April 4 and 5. Our student chapter, the Illinois 
Association of Blind Students (IABS), hosted a day-long conference in conjunction with the parents seminar. It was the first ever 
NFB conference for students throughout the Great Lakes region. In addition to students from Illinois, we were thrilled to welcome 
several participants from Indiana, Wisconsin, and Michigan.

Almost one hundred people registered for the combined seminars, including ten children who took part in Kids' Camp. Among our 
program items were demonstrations of the One-Touch Self Defense system and presentations on managing classroom aides, teaching math, 
and using access technology. Edward Bell, director of the Professional Development and Research Institute on Blindness (PDRIB) at 
Louisiana Tech University, was our keynote speaker. Thanks to the hard work of Byron Lee, we were able to accept online applications 
for the first time ever. We could even receive PayPal payments! This new capability will be of enormous benefit to us as we plan 
future events.

Our 2013-2014 Freedom Link program is drawing to a close. Freedom Link is a transitions club for blind students in middle school and 
high school. The students meet monthly with a group of blind mentors. Each meeting is structured around a field trip that builds 
mobility skills and confidence. The program runs from September through August, and this year nine students took part. Our 2014-2015 
Freedom Link application and flier are posted on the Freedom Link page of our NFB of Illinois website. While you're there, check out 
the audio thank-you note some of this year's group members sent to our wonderful Freedom Link benefactor, Mrs. Charlotte Lindon.

Illinois sent nine representatives to our 2014 Washington Seminar, where they met with representatives and congressional aides to 
discuss issues of immediate concern. Our meetings with both senators were some of the most productive I have ever experienced.

Follow-up after Washington Seminar is always critical. Our members have met with some of our congressmen on the issues, and they 
have also written dozens of letters. As of this writing on June 20, six Illinois representatives have signed onto HB 831, the Fair 
Wages for Workers with Disabilities Act. Annette Grove, Bob Gardner, and Glenn Moore are coordinating our follow-up efforts.

COMMUNICATIONS

Our NFBI website, www.nfbofillinois.org, has loads of content. It is updated regularly with state and national news, and you can 
check out our upcoming meetings and events on our calendar page. There are many ways you can help us enhance our website. We invite 
you to post photos, to review old links, and to update the calendar.

The NFB of Illinois has increased its presence on Facebook. We now have a parents' group and a parents' page as well as a page for 
our BELL program. IABS has a group, and it regularly uses the event feature. Of course, we still have our NFBI group. Just search on 
National Federation of the Blind of Illinois to join. We have more than 150 members now.

We're also active on Twitter. Our Twitter username is "#NFBI." We post several tweets per week and gain two or more followers 
weekly. If I don't post when I am serving as national rep in other states, certain people give me grief. Now I post directly from 
the podium. Others post meetings and the like. We retweet many national happenings.

Besides presenting information, our Illinois listserv (il-talk at nfb.org), provoke some interesting debates. We have talked about such 
topics as parenting issues and driver's license requirements on employment applications. We also encourage each other's 
accomplishments such as independent travel, Braille reading, cooking, and employment advances. Leslie Hamric announced her new 
business selling makeup, and Linda Hendle updates us on the travel challenges she has tackled. The listserv is an especially good 
networking tool for those who do not live near other active blind people. You can sign up for IL-Talk by visiting www.nfbnet.org.)

COMMITTEES

Many of our committees meet on a regular basis and work tirelessly throughout the year. Our Renewal Committee shares ideas on 
drawing in new members. Our Public Relations Committee has stepped up its activities, posting regular announcements about upcoming 
programs and events. Robert Hansen reaches out to the general public through his radio programs on WZRD.

One area where I think we need to become more active and effective is state legislation. This means that we all need to help the 
Legislative Committee move our agenda forward.

Of special note is our Transportation Committee. Members have been attending meetings with Chicago Transit Authority (CTA), Regional 
Transit Authority (RTA), and the Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities (MOPAID). In the Greater Chicago area NFBI is active 
around issues pertaining to the new VENTRA Cards and accessible fare machines for cabs. Initially the volume on the VENTRA fare 
machines that cover CTA, PACE, and RTA was set too low. We are still working on the problem of fast entry times with VENTRA's 
automated phone prompts. At present it is almost impossible to read the card number in Braille and enter information on the keypad 
without being timed out. Furthermore, Kelly Pierce informs me that the VENTRA website has some issues that bar those using screen 
readers from accurately adding money to their cards.

Steve Hastalis has been working on accessible fare machines for cabs. Some companies claim that their machines provide "some audio 
output." Some access is not good enough! We need the same level of access to information that is available to sighted users. Some 
companies simply do not offer audio access at all. Personally, I am quite amused by the number of times companies cancel public 
presentations when they find out that representatives from the NFB of Illinois will attend. I wonder if this has to do with the fact 
that they know they are not as accessible as they claim to be. Such cancelations have happened at least three times so far.

Our Advocacy Committee has helped many families and individuals. We handle everything from rehab questions and school concerns to 
employment and guide dog issues. Recently we assisted someone who had been fired after years of successful work. The employer 
discovered that the employee is blind and fired him over alleged safety issues. We have also attended IEP meetings and provided 
information regarding guide dog discrimination issues.

Our scholarship and internship programs continue to absorb much of our time and monetary resources. The NFBI Scholarship Committee 
has selected three finalists. They will receive their awards after they attend the NFBI convention. Ashley Griggs, a student from 
Illinois who is studying music at East Tennessee University, will be doing a summer internship at a Montessori school in Chicago.

With the support of our Braille Committee, our focus on Braille holds strong for those who wish to learn and/or to improve their 
reading skills. The correlation between Braille and gainful employment is undeniable. Our LIFE group works with our own members, 
while the BELL Program and Illinois Braille Readers are Leaders (iBRAL) reach out to Illinois children. To learn more about iBRAL, 
see the article elsewhere in this issue.

CHAPTER ACTIVITIES

Our NFBI Chicago Chapter has expanded by absorbing many new active members. IABS, our student chapter, in conjunction with the 
student chapter from Indiana, is planning a summer outing for high school and college students. Our At Large Chapter continues to 
draw those we could not otherwise serve. I expect that At Large will be sending members to our conventions. The Bloomington/Normal 
Chapter just held its first fundraising event. They brought in two hundred dollars through a bowl-a-thon.

FUNDRAISING

One area that needs improvement in the NFBI is fundraising. Recently we were forced to cut back some of our programs to avoid a 
major budget deficit. We all need to raise money so we can avoid further cuts. We welcome ideas and participation.

POLICYMAKING

The NFBI serves on the State Rehabilitation Council (SRC), the Blind Services Planning Council (BSPC), and the Library Advisory 
Boards. It is important that we maintain our seats on these panels, even though we do not always see immediate results. If we do not 
do so, we cannot maintain our high profile as a major player when it comes to blindness issues in Illinois.

Our 2014 NFBI convention will be held in Naperville from October 31st to November 2. We are already looking into locations for 2015.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I want to close with a short essay that I read a few years ago. It remains one of my favorites.

"We were saddened this year to learn of the death of our most valued volunteer, Someone Else.

Someone's passing created a void that will be difficult to fill. Someone Else had been with us for years. For every one of those 
years Someone did far more than a normal person's share of the work.

Whenever leadership was mentioned, this wonderful person was looked up to for inspiration as well as results.
Someone Else can work with that group.

Whenever there was a job to do, a seminar to plan, a meeting to attend,
or time to spend with a person in need of companionship,
one name was always on every list. Let Someone Else do it.

It was common knowledge that Someone Else was generous with donations. Whenever there was a financial need, everyone just assumed 
that Someone Else would make up the difference.

Were the truth known, everyone expected too much of Someone Else.
Now Someone Else is Gone.

We wonder what we are going to do. Someone Else left a model example to follow, but who will do the things Someone Else did?"

Please think about your participation in the NFB of Illinois. We all need to look to ourselves more than Someone Else. Step up on 
fundraising and legislative issues. Those are areas where we need your help to improve.

Finally, as many of you know, I am not planning to run for NFBI president again in 2014. I am supporting Denise Avant for that 
position. Denise has spent many hours learning how to run our affiliate, and she is preeminently qualified to do the job. Thanks to 
all of you for the opportunity to serve as president. I will continue to serve in other capacities. NFB is in my blood as it is in 
yours.

* * * * * * *

MEMORIES OF DAD, Part One
by Dutch tenBroek

[This article is based upon Dutch tenBroek's presentation at the 2013 convention of the NFB of Illinois. Part Two of this article 
will appear in the next issue of the newsletter.]

My dad was born in Alberta, Canada. His father built the first frame house in Alberta Province. When Dad became blind, the family 
moved to a farm in the San Joaquin Valley of California. They settled in and around Layton near Fresno. My father attended the 
California School for the Blind. Dr. Newell Perry was his mentor at the school. Our first son is named Jacobus Newell Perry in his 
honor.

Dad was about six feet three inches tall and built like a lineman in professional football. He had a stubborn streak in him, and he 
believed there was nothing he could not do. Most of you know he was a professor at the University of California. He taught speech 
and political science, but he is best known outside the NFB as a constitutional lawyer.

Many of you are aware that Dad has set the vision and standard for this organization. Most of you are not aware, however, that in 
the early 1950s Dad started a fashion trend that would catch fire in the last few years of the century. Unlike the kids of today, 
Dad had thought through the why of this style. I am wearing a denim train engineer's hat. Every time Dad went out to work in the 
yard, he wore this hat. And he always wore it with the bill pointed backwards, covering his neck. He did it to protect his neck from 
the sun. I am not sure why the kids of today wear their hats backward. I wish I could tell you how Dad came upon the hat, but I have 
no idea.

One day when I was young, it was very hot; I was going to jump into an ice cold shower to cool off. Dad stopped me on the way to the 
shower and told me a story. One hot day on the farm, their China pig was making noise. Dad thought it was in distress and threw cold 
water on it-killing the pig. When I got in the shower it was not ice cold.

Dad did all the things his siblings did. He had chores on the farm, swam in the local creek, and mucked out stalls. He even liked to 
ride a bike. His sister tied tin cans on strings and attached them to the backs of their bikes. Dad would follow the sound as he 
rode on his bike. One day the string on the back of Aunt Lil's bike broke and the cans went down into a ditch. So did Dad.

I met my cousin Patty about three years ago. She told me the story that every time they visited the farm, she would do her best to 
sneak up on Dad while he was milking the cows. She would get within about two feet of him, and he would say, "Patty, what are you 
doing?" This went on for years, and she never figured out how he knew.

The house I grew up in was huge. It was built on the site of an old rock crusher. It was vertical, four stories high, with the 
kitchen on the top floor and the bedrooms on the bottom two floors. My bedroom on the bottom floor was about twenty feet above the 
ground. There was some level ground on the front of the lot, but most of the lot was vertical. The rocks were mined from a quarry at 
the top of the hill.

When a realtor took Dad to the house, Dad took one look around the living room and said, "We will take it." The living room/study 
area was forty-six by fifty feet. It was a split-level with seven steps in the middle. I remember one day Dad taught one of his 
upper-level classes of about fifty students in the living room, with the students sitting on the steps. My brother, sister, and I 
used to take a cushion off the window seat in the upper level and use it to slide down the steps. In the center of the upper level 
was the biggest fireplace I have ever seen. The opening was about six feet across.

I think the best way for me to describe how our house fit on the lot is to ask you to imagine sitting on your bed with your pillow 
wrapped around you. Your pillow wraps from your left side around your back to your right side. Our house was the trunk of your body, 
with the majority of our lot the pillow. So the lot was basically vertical, with the flat part of the lot where your legs would be 
if you were sitting on your bed.

In the early 1950s the Federation was going to build an office on some of the flat space in front of our house. Many Federationists 
showed up one weekend to help clear the ground and area for the new construction. The new building would be built up against the 
hill to the south of our house.

About thirty feet up were some plane trees growing vertically out of the hill. The builder had said the trees had to be trimmed way 
back. Plane trees are fairly weak, and they could have fallen on the new building. Dad and a few other folks climbed up the hill to 
the trees. They decided they could shinny out a tree, cut off the top half, and be okay. But when it came time to shinny out, no one 
wanted to go, so Dad started making his way along the trunk. The tree itself was about twenty to thirty feet, and he was out over 
halfway when the trunk broke behind him. Dad rode the remainder of the tree like a cowboy riding a bronco. Surprisingly he had a few 
minor scratches but no broken bones. As he started back up the hill to take care of the next tree, several bystanders and my mother 
stopped that idea.

For treats on the weekends, occasionally we would get up early, phone in our breakfast order to the King Cotton Restaurant in San 
Rafel, drive to Point Richmond, and get on the ferry to go to breakfast. We would then spend the day in the giant redwoods or Napa 
Valley. Dad loved the big redwoods. We had a giant redwood growing right in front of our house. It was about as tall as my bedroom 
window when I first remember it. By the time I left home, it was taller than the house.

Our morning routine was fairly simple. Dad was very disciplined. He would get up daily between two and three in the morning and go 
to the study to work on research or speeches. At five-thirty he would come to my bedroom and say, "Rise and shine!" as he pulled the 
covers to the bottom of the bed. That was my cue to wash up and head up four flights of stairs to the kitchen to help Mom prepare 
breakfast. Breakfast was our big meal. There was usually meat, potatoes, some kind of vegetable, and many times Mom's homemade pie 
and or ice cream. After breakfast it was off to school for us. Dad went back to the study or off to class.

Evening meals for us were light fare such as salad, soup, or sandwiches.
Meal time for us was like class for Dad's students. We were asked our opinions about the news of the day or a significant event in 
school. But that was never the end of the conversation. Next we would have to defend our opinion. Dad wanted us to reason things 
out, to look at both sides and think things through. It was a long time before I realized what a gift that was to me, my brother, 
and sister. We were taught never to accept things at face value, and to be passionate about whatever idea we defended.

Dad always encouraged us to explore new things and ideas. When we were growing up, he and Mom told us that they did not care what 
career we chose. They did care that we became the best we could be at whatever we did.

By eight o'clock Dad was in bed. On Fridays we were allowed to sit at the end of the bed for an hour and watch "Jack Benny" or "The 
Honeymooners" on TV.

There were constantly people in our home meeting with Dad. A gentleman I used to call Mr. Earl frequented our house. I learned later 
that Earl was his first name. His last name was Warren. He was governor of California, and later he would become chief justice of 
the United States Supreme Court. He and Dad were friends and would talk politics and law.

I think fall was one of my father's favorite times of year. On Saturday afternoons the adults gathered around the Grundig radio on 
the living room table to listen to the University of California football games. Many times, aunts and uncles would be in attendance 
with cocktails and cigars. Dad's favorite cigar was Bering. The cigars came in silver aluminum tubes that my brother and I would 
collect and play with. Dad also followed the San Francisco 49ers and the San Francisco Giants. He was a Willy Mays fan, but the 
California Golden Bears were his sports passion.

Holidays were wonderful times in our family. I still have the big roasting pan that my mother put the turkey in. On Thanksgiving 
there was usually a forty-pound turkey in the pan. We had all the trimmings and lots of pies. My brother, sister, and I were tasked 
with helping to prepare the pies. We had to peel two to three lugs of white Astrachan apples, as well as apricots. We had two 
peeler-corer-and-slicers and could take care of the apples very quickly. Astrachans have a very short season, so when the time came 
we would have several lugs of apples to prepare for freezing. Dad loved warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream.

Whenever the extended family was together, there was always lively conversation. Normally it took place around our fireplace in the 
living room. One of my jobs when I was in grade school was to be the popcorn popper. Once the fire was going, I would place the 
popcorn in a fine mesh oblong basket with a sliding top and a long handle. I would hold the basket over the fire until the corn 
popped. Sometimes during the winter Dad would suggest we cook hotdogs over the fire. We would roast marshmallows in there also.

I have to back up for a moment and talk about our freezer. I am not sure when it arrived.
It was an eighteen-cubic-foot upright that was located in a room on the top floor off the dining room. It stood in an area that had 
been built to contain it, kind of like a big closet outside the wall of the room. Back then, freezers were not frostless. 
Periodically, I was tasked to help Dad defrost the freezer. We would get boxes to put all the food in. Then we would carry pans of 
hot water from the kitchen and throw the water into the freezer. When the ice was gone we would take big towels, dry out the 
freezer, and put the food back in. After that the freezer would be good again for a while. I think my Uncle Len designed the room. 
There was a rubber pad in front of the freezer and a panel underneath it to let the water out. My Uncle Len, by the way, was the 
designer of the NFB office we attached to the house.

When I was growing up, one of my jobs was to keep the woodshed full. The shed was located off the back of the living room, and it 
would hold a cord of wood vertically. Dad would cut and split the wood in the front yard. I would carry it up three flights of 
stairs, through the living room and to the shed. We burned eucalyptus, which is very hard to cut and split. Dad made a couple of 
sawhorses to hold the logs. He had a four-foot, two-man cross-cut saw. He used it by himself until I was big enough to help. I have 
no idea where the logs came from-there always seemed to be some there for Dad to cut. I learned later that friends, neighbors, and 
tree services would deliver the logs to Dad. They were around ten to fifteen feet long and really heavy.

Shortly after I got my driver's license, I got a lead on where we could get twenty or thirty eucalyptus tree trunks. The area had 
been cleared, and all we had to do was go pick them up. We rented a truck, and Dad and I went to pick up the logs. It turned out 
that they were lying on a hill, and many of them were over twenty feet long. We discovered that, with some effort, we could roll the 
logs down the hill. We parked the truck next to the hill and put some wooden planks from the hill to the truck. However, we had not 
thought through how we were going to stop the logs once they got to the truck. This we realized when the first log rolled down the 
hill. It hit the truck bed, just like we thought, and then it broke the stakes on the other side of the truck as it kept right on 
going. After discovering that we had to walk the logs down to the truck, we managed to get them home. We worked solidly for two days 
on that project, and it is one of the few times I remember Dad complaining about being sore. It took us three months of weekends to 
get all that wood cut and split.

For Labor Day you can count on one thing in the San Francisco Bay area. No fog. The temperature warms up, and most Labor Days are 
real Chamber of Commerce advertisements. For us, Labor Day weekend meant one thing. The wooden stairs that comprised the first 
flight up from the ground had to be sanded and painted. Since there was no other way to get up to the front door, Dad had built a 
twenty-foot wooden ladder to go up the wall next to the stairs. I can't remember exactly when, but I think I was in junior high when 
Mom put her foot down. Stairs and a path were carved into the hill next to the wall to get us up when the wooden stairs were 
painted.

If you continued up the hill past our kitchen, you would find the biggest eucalyptus tree I have ever seen. It was close to fifty 
feet tall when I left home, and about six feet around. Up the hill a few feet from the tree was the kids' playground. It contained a 
cement oval about four feet wide and thirty feet long. One hundred feet up a forty-degree grade was Rose, the closest street. Given 
the choice of carrying the material to build the playground up four flights of stairs and then up a steep hill versus getting it 
down the steep grade from above, Dad did the only sensible thing. He built a hundred-foot chute from the street above to the play 
area. It had four-by-four posts, was about eighteen inches wide, and had six-inch sides made of plywood. The chute was steep enough 
that the gravel would flow down to the ground. It was still standing when I left twenty years later.

About twenty feet off the playground was a six-foot storm drain the city had put in to collect the runoff from the hills above us. 
Dad got the city to place eight two-by-fours across the culvert to keep the kids out of it. The playground was built in the early 
1950s. Just before Thanksgiving of 1962, the San Francisco Bay area received several days of record rainfall. At about seven PM, Mom 
came into my room and said they needed help, as water was coming in under the doors. When I got to the living room I could see what 
looked like a major river coming down the hill. Water was hitting the living room door and the door on the bottom level, which had a 
cubbyhole set up where we would put our shoes and boots. Mom had called the fire department, and they entered the house by climbing 
up on the roof of the office and then climbing a fifteen-foot ladder up to my bedroom window. From my bedroom they went up the house 
through the kitchen (past all Mom's pies) and out the kitchen door, which was not affected by the water.

Dad had figured out that debris had blocked the storm drain. He had worked his way up the hill, gotten to the drain, and was trying 
to clear tree limbs and other debris out of the way. The roar of the water was so loud that Dad did not hear the firemen arrive on 
the scene. His hands were going numb as he climbed out of the water, which was very cold.

The two firemen handed Dad a spotlight and said, "Please put the light on us so we can see what to pull out." So Dad pointed the 
light. Shortly one of the firemen yelled, "Put the light over here," and Dad moved the light. The firemen responded, "No, over 
here!" After several more tries, one of the firemen got out of the water, angrily stormed over to Dad, and yelled, "Are you blind? 
Put the light where we need it!" Dad's response was that as a matter of fact, he was blind.

About midnight the debris was cleared, and we were able to assess the damage. When you walk out of the first floor door, out of the 
cubbyhole, there is a six foot retaining wall. A part of the bottom of the wall had washed away and a huge cavern had been formed 
underneath the walk. It was about 30 feet deep and 50 feet across. A lot of the hillside had been moved, and the street in front of 
our house was covered in mud. The next day we discovered that one of our neighbors a block away down the hill had excitedly called 
the fire department, when she looked out her kitchen window to discover her swimming pool full of mud and a pair of my boots 
floating upside down in the middle of the pool.

That afternoon when the city sent a team to rappel down into the hole to inspect the damage, Dad had to go down to personally see 
what was going on. When they got back up one of the men said to Dad you handle yourself very well on the ropes where did you get 
your training? Dad responded your partner gave me instructions before you arrived.

* * * * * * *

PROCTORS AND PROBLEMS
My First Experience with a Certification Exam
by David Meyer

Over the past years, more and more professions have established certification requirements. Practitioners must pass a certifying 
examination in order to qualify for a job, retain their employment, or be promoted to a higher level. Blind and visually impaired 
test-takers often face a gauntlet of technological barriers, so that the challenge of mastering the test material truly pales by 
comparison.

The technology has changed in recent years, but sadly there is nothing new about barriers to professional certifying exams. I will 
never forget what happened when I took the exam to become certified as a music therapist thirty years ago.

I was employed in the music therapy field when certification became a requirement for new graduates. Since I was "grandfathered in," 
I put off the certification process for several years. Then, early in 1988, I received a letter from my employer. It stated that I 
needed to certify or risk losing my job. The protection of being "grandfathered in" was not going to last forever.

At that time, there was only one day per year when music therapists could certify. Therefore, it was crucial that I pass the 
examination on the first try. If I took the exam and failed, I would likely lose my job. I arranged to take the exam that year. The 
date was November 5, and the time was one PM.

When I spoke with a representative from Assessment Systems INC., the agency charged with administering the exam, I learned I could 
have one additional hour to complete the test beyond the standard three-hour limit. Initially, I was not concerned about needing 
extra time. In the end it came in handy-for all the wrong reasons.

At twelve-forty PM on November 5, 1988, I sat in the lobby of the main building of Harold Washington College. I waited with the 
other candidates to be called in for the one-o'clock test. Feeling anxious, I stood up. As I rose, someone asked, "Are you David 
Meyer?" A woman introduced herself, telling me she was my proctor, Liz.

Trouble from the Start

As we conversed prior to test time, Liz told me that she had been about to leave. She had already waited for several hours, as she 
had been told that the test would begin at nine AM. We proceeded to the testing area with the other candidates and were given a room 
assignment as well as a copy of the test. I don't know when Liz began timing me. I do know that prior to reading me the first 
question, she told me that there were several questions with diagrams which she would not be able to interpret for me.

Surprised and angry, I shot back that if this was indeed the case, we might as well stop right there. As far as I was concerned, the 
test would not be valid for me unless it could be read in full. Liz offered to begin reading the exam. I refused, saying I needed 
the problem to be resolved before I began. Liz offered to find the supervising proctor, who might offer a solution to my dilemma. By 
this time we were ten minutes into the testing period, and I had not completed a single question.

Liz came back with the supervising proctor, Frank. Frank's solution was for me to leave all questions blank if they could not be 
read. I pointed out that this solution was worse than no solution at all. If I left the questions blank, they would surely count 
against me. I might fail the exam if I implemented his recommendation. Liz then offered to look for someone who could assist us. 
Frank was amenable, and offered to take over the reading of the test in the meantime.

Should Proctors Be Able to Read?

As Frank sat down, he announced that he was a bit nearsighted. He asked me to have patience, as he might have some trouble seeing 
what he needed to read. When he began, I realized I had no way to tell whether his reading was accurate. On several occasions he 
read the same answer under different letter choices. Twice he read different answers and gave the same letter choice. He 
consistently substituted the word "rescinding" in place of "descending" and "ascending." Furthermore, even when he read 
appropriately, his voice was barely audible. Though the questions he read should have been pretty straightforward, I constantly had 
to ask him to repeat them before choosing an answer.

Eventually Liz returned with what seemed to be great news. She had found the school's choir director, who was conducting a 
rehearsal. The choir director indicated that he would come up and assist us once his rehearsal was over.

After that we settled into a rather comfortable rhythm for the remainder of the examination. Liz remained courteous, patient, and 
professional, in spite of what was surely a trying day for her.

When we finished with the questions she felt she was able to read, we began to brainstorm again. We had already exceeded the time 
limit for the other test takers, and we had yet to hear from the choir director. As it turned out, he never appeared. Liz thought 
she could communicate the remainder of the questions to me if she had a piano to work with. Not knowing if this was an acceptable 
accommodation, we began looking for a piano. Once we found one, we sailed through the questions with little difficulty. Having the 
chance to answer those questions was definitely helpful. They turned out to be among the easiest questions on the exam.

I had already decided that I was going to write a letter of complaint and send it to everyone I thought should have it. Liz told me 
that there was a place on the answer form where she could make a comment about the examination process. She wrote that communication 
about the scheduling of the test was poor. Regarding the test itself, she wrote that she did not feel herself adequate to the task. 
She read her statement to me and asked for my thoughts. I thanked her for her patience and support while we struggled together.

Thirty Days and Counting

When candidates take certifying exams today, they usually receive their scores immediately. In 1988, however, things were much 
different. Exams were scored by hand, and test takers had to wait thirty days to find out how they fared. I figured I had plenty of 
time to make my case to all parties that might be in a position to accommodate my needs if I failed the exam. With my career at 
stake and a honed edge of anger, I wrote my letter. I detailed all the problems I had and laid out a set of conditions I felt should 
be met if I had to take the test again. I received a sympathetic response from the president of the National Association for Music 
Therapy. She said she was sorry about what I had to go through, but she could not do anything to help me. This was a matter between 
me and the Certification Board for Music Therapists. The Certification Board for Music Therapists thought my letter was 
unreasonable. It did not agree with a single condition in my letter. If I failed the exam, I could take it again on the next testing 
date, which was likely to be in November, 1989.

If I failed the exam, I felt my only course of action would be to sue. Thank goodness, I passed the exam, and all was well. I hope 
that no one who takes a certification examination ever encounters the obstacles I faced when I certified for the first time!

* * * * * * *

TRAVELS IN TUNISIA
By Brianna Lillyman

As a long-time member of the National Federation of the Blind, I have heard the message, "You can live the life you want," over and 
over again. When one of my professors passed around a flyer advertising a faculty-led study abroad program in Tunisia, an Arab 
country in North Africa, I knew this was something I wanted to do, though I also knew it might be a challenge.

The trip took place over the course of three weeks, with the first week in Tunis, the capital. The remainder of the trip we traveled 
throughout the country to many of the historically and politically significant cities and locations, all while attending lectures by 
my professor and his Tunisian colleagues, supplemented by our wonderful Tunisian tour guide. The course was a political science 
class with credit toward my major in international studies. Its focus was on Tunisia's Jasmine Revolution and democracy.

For those who aren't familiar with it, the Jasmine Revolution took place in 2011, removing the dictator Ben Ali and establishing the 
first Arab democracy. It began when a Tunisian street vendor named Muhamed Buazizi immolated himself in protest of the cruel and 
unfair treatment at the hands of the Tunisian police force. Within the following month, Ben Ali fled the country, fearful of the 
spreading protests that he was unable to control with words or force. The Jasmine Revolution began the movement known as the Arab 
Spring, as Egypt, Libya, and Syria attempted to follow Tunisia's lead. None can claim anywhere near the success that Tunisia has 
had.

Preparing for the Challenge

I was very lucky to have the support of my parents in my decision to study in a country that had experienced recent political unrest 
and a revolution in 2011. Instead of trying to talk me out of it, my parents encouraged me to apply for a passport, as this would be 
my first time traveling overseas.

As a blind student, I knew it was critical for me to approach the professor who was leading the program. I informed him of my 
situation and asked to work with him to make sure I could fully participate in the experience. My professor asked me a number of 
very specific questions related to my travel experience. He wanted to know how I would navigate certain scenarios in Tunisia. I 
sensed that he was nervous about having a blind student on the trip. It would have been easy to let myself be talked out of 
applying. I recall my professor asking me why I wanted to go on a trip where we would be traveling throughout the entire country of 
Tunisia. Why not apply for one of the programs in Europe that are held at one institute and require less travel? But I felt that 
this trip was a rare opportunity to experience a culture to which I had very little exposure. I found the prospect of traveling 
exciting rather than daunting or hazardous. In this moment, it was very important that I was able to assert myself, to explain 
specific tactics of orientation and mobility to my professor, and to fall back on that message, "I can live the life I want."

Even when my acceptance into the program was confirmed and my plane tickets were booked, there were moments when I felt that maybe I 
had made a mistake. I didn't know what I was getting into, and I thought of all the things that could go wrong. But once I arrived 
in Tunis, all my expectations of what the trip was going to be like were blown out of the water. I had an incredibly fun and 
informative three-week experience.

The Global Community

My first day in Tunisia was definitely one of the longest, most exhausting but exciting days of my life! Between travel and 
activities upon arrival, it was well over twenty-four hours before I had the opportunity to sleep in a bed for the first time since 
leaving the US. I was astounded by how much the landscape looked like an island resort rather than the desert wasteland I was 
expecting. I immediately went to the beach at our hotel and stepped into the waters of the Mediterranean. I marveled at the sound of 
the unfamiliar Arabic language being spoken all around me and the camels walking along the beach.

On that first afternoon we had our first lecture and our first dinner together as a group. We went out in the evening to City Bou 
Said for a guided walking tour of this centuries-old city above the Mediterranean. It consisted of beautiful architecture, crowded 
brick roads full of people, and so much car traffic! More than once we witnessed cars having to back up in hilly alleyways to let 
other cars through. People were getting out of their cars to direct other drivers. That first night is sort of a jet-lagged blur to 
me as I tried to take it all in. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that after all the anticipation I had finally made it 
to the beautiful country of Tunisia.

During our stay in Tunis in the first week of the trip, one of the moments that made a great impression on me actually occurred 
while I was standing on American soil. It happened when we visited the cemetery for US soldiers who died during World War II in 
North Africa. The land was donated to the US by Habib Bourgiba, Tunisia's former ruler and "founding father," as a thank you for US 
support in Tunisia's independence movement. Our guide at the cemetery was a Tunisian man who profusely apologized for his lack of 
knowledge of the site. He sort of fell into the job after the US embassy was burned in a terrorist attack and all non-essential US 
workers were evacuated. He stressed to us that he takes his job seriously and wants to learn more about the history of the cemetery 
because he considers it a great honor.

I found this site very moving, especially the wall of names listing the missing people whose bodies were never found. Our guide took 
us to the graves of two brothers who were killed on Christmas Eve. Their bodies were found back to back as they died together, 
trying to protect each other.

While I was visiting this site, I thought of what our guide said about honor and what it means to sacrifice your life for the cause 
of freedom, as Muhamed Buazizi did and others have done throughout the Middle East. In Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, and Syria, people 
risked or sacrificed their lives in an ongoing struggle to be free of their authoritarian governments. I always thought of the 
turmoil in the Middle East as distant and disconnected from my life. But standing in a cemetery for American soldiers who died in 
North Africa as a result of a European conflict, it hit me that then and now, we are all part of the same global community.

This sense of global community stayed with me throughout the rest of the trip. Wherever we went, we were genuinely welcomed by 
nearly all the people we encountered. Tourism makes up a significant portion of Tunisia's economy, but it is quite unique for so 
many Americans to travel there. People were eager to accommodate us or simply to talk to us and practice their English.

Culture Shock

One of the highlights of my time in Tunisia was when our professor arranged for us to meet with a group of Tunisian students 
studying law and English. We met with them several times during our trip. The perspectives and life experience of students my age 
supplemented and enhanced the material we learned in our lectures.

On our first full day in Tunis, our professor sent us off in smaller groups with Tunisian students. They took us through the 
marketplace called the medina. We were bombarded by Tunisia's city life. I was so overwhelmed by the medina-it's so colorful, with 
twisting, tiny, crowded alleys full of vendors using any means necessary to sell us something. As in many of the places we visited, 
it was difficult for me to navigate. At the same time, I appreciated that I could use my cane without attracting too much unwanted 
attention. In the US, especially at airports, I can't walk with my cane without drawing major attention to myself-mostly stares, but 
sometimes more direct encounters with overly helpful and annoyingly misinformed people. In Tunisia no one seemed to take even a 
second look. My cane was no more of a spectacle to people than the fact that I'm an American. Actually, it was kind of disconcerting 
that nobody jumped out of the way of my cane.

Of course there were moments on the trip that were a culture shock and well out of my comfort zone. Nearly everywhere we went, there 
were skinny, dirty cats and excessive amounts of garbage and litter. One upsetting moment occurred as we walked down the narrow 
medina alleys of the city of Bizerte, and a horse pulling a cart stumbled into a manhole. The horse was writhing around with its leg 
down the hole. It had hit its mouth on the pavement, and it was bleeding. All this was happening inches away from us. We were all 
just hoping the horse was okay and that none of us would get injured in the struggle. The horse walked away from it, but it was a 
shocking thing to witness.

Night in the Sahara

Any negative moments were outweighed by all the other amazing things I got to experience. When people ask me what was my favorite 
part of the trip, I am quick to report that it was my time in the Sahara. Though we stayed in hotels throughout the trip, we spent 
one incredible night camping in the desert. Our professor told us it would only take two hours to drive from our hotel to our desert 
campsite. It was located in a palm grove that was miraculously thriving in the desert. We separated into special jeeps for the 
journey.

We soon discovered that the two-hour estimate was very wrong, because even the jeeps were no match for the desert dunes. Every so 
often, a jeep got stuck and had to be dug out. Once we had to dig out the Tunisian National Guard who was tailing us! The Tunisian 
police force maintained constant contact with our tour guide to ensure that our group had a positive, safe experience.

The entire ride was practically a roller coaster, except scarier. I really thought our jeep might tip over. If anything were to 
happen, we would be stranded far from civilization.

When we finally arrived hours later, the jeeps took us straight to a Roman fortress that remains crumbling in the desert. From there 
we watched a beautiful sunset over the Sahara. It was a moment that can't be captured with words-I've never felt so small as a 
person, or felt such a sense of the smallness of the human race. We can never conquer this land; everything is sand. It was so fine 
and soft and orangey that it covered everything I brought with me. It hurts and gets on every inch of your body. Once I embraced 
that it was unavoidable, I started rolling down dunes, jumping into the sand, and burying myself in it. But at the sunset, everyone 
became dead silent as we watched in awe.

Back at the palm grove campsite, we ate around the fire. There was music, a belly dancer, and general fun among our group. Our 
professor asked if any of us wanted to spend the night out in the dunes away from the campsite. He led us a ways away before he left 
us. The beauty of the stars was one of the best moments of the trip for me. They were so bright that I was able to see them for the 
first time in many years. I separated a few yards from the rest of the group so I could take it all in.

And then it got cold. They warned us, but I had no idea! It was cold and damp and sandy. I didn't make it the whole night in the 
dunes. I had to find my way back to the campsite and huddle in a blanket. Afterward I was so incredibly glad I spent the night in 
the Sahara, but between the cold and the sand, I was also glad when it was over.

It is difficult for me to convey all of the things that I learned and experienced. There was no way I could have imagined it 
beforehand. I walked away from the experience feeling independent and enriched. I gained a whole new perspective on global events 
and their relevance to my life. The sense of nervousness I felt before my departure was vanquished by a new confidence in my ability 
to adapt to and explore new things.

On our final morning before departure, my professor commented on the conversation he had with me about how my blindness might affect 
my experience on the trip. He said it seemed irrelevant now, and that he was glad I went with the group. But no one could be gladder 
than I was! This was one of the moments in life that was worth the risk and instilled in me that I truly can lead the life I want.


* * * * * * *

iBRAL IS HERE!
by Robert Gardner

No, we're not talking about iPad or iTunes. We're talking about iBRAL! In 2012 the National Federation of the Blind discontinued its 
annual Braille Readers Are Leaders (BRAL) contest after twenty-nine years. To fill the void, the National Federation of the Blind of 
Illinois (NFBI) decided to run its own contest for kids within the state. Say hello to the Illinois Braille Readers Are Leaders, or 
iBRAL, Contest for kids!

The decision to organize the iBRAL contest came about in October of 2013, spurred by the Braille Literacy Committee within the NFBI. 
With help from Natalie Shaheen of our national office, the committee put together rules and forms and set up a contest page on the 
state website-all within a month! To match the resources available within Illinois, the contest was simplified from the one formerly 
run at the national level. Registration opened on December 1, 2013. The contest included five grade categories from kindergarten 
through high school. Reading commenced on January 4, 2014, Louis Braille's birthday, and the contest ran for six weeks. The object 
of the competition, as before, was to read as many pages as possible during the contest period.

The reaction to the iBRAL contest was immediate and enthusiastic. One mother wrote on her son's registration form, "Thank you so 
much for organizing this event in Illinois. The BRAL contest was the single biggest motivator for my son to really work on his 
Braille skills."

Another typical comment on a registration form came from a teacher of the visually impaired (TVI). She wrote , "This is my first 
student to take the Braille Challenge, and we are both super excited!"

The overall response to our contest to promote the reading of Braille by schoolchildren was fantastic. Within the few weeks allowed 
for registration, we had twenty-six applicants, ranging from a first grader to several students in twelfth grade. We were amazed 
that our brand-new, never-heard-of-before contest had such a wonderful response. Much of the thanks goes to the well-organized 
Public Relations Committee of the NFB of Illinois. The PR Committee sent out a blitz of information to schools, parents, and 
agencies all over the state.

Lois Montgomery of the NFBI Blackhawk Chapter volunteered to be the contest administrator. She created an email account for iBRAL, 
where she received registrations at the beginning of the contest and reading logs at the end. In this way, all of the material could 
be handled electronically. The email account also allowed Lois to communicate easily with parents and/or TVI's who acted as 
Certifying Officials for the contestants.

"The contest seemed simple on the surface," Lois said, "but it was surprising how much work it ended up being." Then she added, "But 
it was so gratifying to read some of the comments we received."

Lois gave an example of what a TVI said about one of her students. "Thank you for letting us participate!" the teacher wrote. "This 
was a great way to encourage Braille reading for him!" A parent wrote of her son, "He wanted to make sure he would do well. He just 
brought me his last book to log, and told me his fingers hurt. No wonder. He read five hundred pages today alone!"

"Sometimes," Lois said, "the feedback we got was touching." For example, a TVI wrote about one of her students, "We had a GREAT time 
reading! Pierre has just started reading Braille in the last few years, and is finally reading with some fluency and reading for 
fun! He is seventeen years old, and has autism along with his blindness and cognitive delays. He was diligent daily about telling 
people he had to read for the Braille contest. Hope to do it again next year! Thanks!"

Cash prizes were awarded to first, second, and third place winners in each grade category. Special thanks go to both the National 
Braille Press and the national headquarters of the NFB for donating additional prizes. When we contacted Joanne Sullivan of the 
National Braille Press about purchasing gift certificates from them to use as prizes, she told us we wouldn't have to buy them. NBP, 
that great supporter of Braille, would donate twenty-dollar gift certificates to be given to all entrants. In addition, the national 
office of the NFB donated slates and styluses to be given to each contestant. When it was all over, each child received a generous 
goodie package from iBRAL, whether or not he or she won a prize.

An additional bonus for category winners was the offer to attend, free of charge, the seminar for parents of blind children held by 
the NFBI in April 2014. In conjunction with the parents' seminar was a day-long conference for blind high school and college 
students. One winner and his family accepted the invitation.

The Braille Literacy Committee in Illinois, along with the entire state affiliate, is proud of our accomplishments. We took the 
idea, the dream, of creating a statewide Braille reading contest for children and turned it into a reality. Many people contributed 
to the success of the endeavor, from those who made phone calls to publicize the contest to our webmaster, who made the contest 
electronically accessible. Lois Montgomery deserves special thanks for overseeing the details of registration, compiling the reading 
logs, and putting together the prize packages.

The NFBI is already committed to running a 2015 iBRAL contest for kids in Illinois. In our first contest in 2014, we were astounded 
by the amount of interest we received. We hope that, with more work and more publicity, our second contest will be even more 
successful. Go Braille! Go iBRAL!

More information about the Illinois Braille Readers Are Leaders contest for kids can be found at the NFBI website, 
www.nfbofillinois.org, at the link
"iBRAL Contest."

* * * * * * *

RING THE BELL IN ILLINOIS
by Debbie Kent Stein

As we prepare this newsletter for publication, our 2014 Illinois BELL Program is completing its second and final week. For the 
second year, the Chicago Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired very generously allowed us to use space at its Chicago 
headquarters. Seven children participated in this year's program, ranging in age from five to twelve. Amy Lund served as our 
coordinating teacher, as she did last summer. Her assistant teacher was Samantha Voll. Both Amy and Samantha are teachers of the 
visually impaired from Springfield, Illinois.

Pitching in to help Amy and Samantha wherever needed was a team of enthusiastic BELL volunteers. Some of our volunteers were blind 
Federationists. Some were teachers of the visually impaired or teachers in training at TVI programs.

As a BELL volunteer I had the delightful privilege of directly participating in this year's program. I helped escort the children on 
four exciting field trips, each one packed with learning opportunities. We visited Midway Airport, where we all were allowed to 
board a Southwest Airlines plane. The kids even got to meet the captain in the cockpit and examine some of the instruments. We 
explored the intriguing hands-on exhibits at the Chicago Children's Museum, and we took a trip to the beach. We even went sailing on 
the Tall Ship Windy that anchors at Navy Pier. The kids examined an assortment of sailing equipment and had the chance to help raise 
and lower the sails.

At the close of each day, Amy handed out bells of assorted shapes and sizes. She invited each student and volunteer to describe 
something he or she especially enjoyed about the day's activities. "Listening to the story!" a child might say, or "Hearing the 
announcements on the subway!" or "Learning to take the escalator." After each comment, kids and adults rang the bells they had been 
given, a celebration of learning and accomplishment.

Looking back on the program, here are a few of my own most bell-worthy moments.

I loved the children's excitement about mastering new Braille contractions, reading more fluently, and dipping into new books.

Several of the children in our 2014 program also took part in BELL last summer. It was wonderful to see the progress they have made 
in the past school year.

I found it very heartening to observe how patient the children were with one another. The older kids were very good to the younger 
ones, whatever we were doing.

I loved finding fresh teaching moments. Truly, they are everywhere. Whether the kids were unpacking lunches, writing journal 
entries, finding the way to the bathroom, or boarding a bus, they reinforced earlier lessons and learned new things.

I was thrilled by those moments when a child studied my cane or asked one of the blind volunteers how he found his way to the 
Lighthouse. I had the feeling that the kids were taking in a new reality-that blind people grow up and live life just like the other 
grownups they know. They were taking in the message that it's okay to be blind.

Ring the bells strong and clear for another outstanding Illinois BELL program!

Maria reading a book called "Llama Llama Red Pajama"
 Maria and volunteer Mary Beth on the moving walkway at Midway Airport.

* * * * * * *

FINDING APPS WITH VIA
by Denise Avant

Apple's iPhone, iPad, and iPod have been accessible to the blind and visually impaired and other people with disabilities since 
2009. For those of us who cannot see the touch screen, Apple has a built-in screen reader, Voiceover, that speaks the text on the 
screen as you touch the various apps. The various i-devices come with several native apps. These include Calendar, Notes, Mail, and 
Music, just to name a few. All of these apps are totally accessible to Voiceover users.

But what happens when you have mastered Voiceover and the apps built into the phone? There are thousands of apps out there, created 
by different programmers who do not always have access features in mind. How do you find apps that are accessible with Voiceover?

The App Store on the i-device is the place where you go to find apps. It offers some 500,000 apps, but there is no indication 
whether an app is accessible with Voiceover. Fortunately, blind and visually impaired users have a new resource to assist in finding 
out about the accessibility of any given app. The Braille Institute of America in Los Angeles has developed an App called VIA, 
Visually Impaired App. Of course, you can find it in the App Store.

How does VIA work? Once you download, install, and open the app on your i-device, you will be on the home screen. There you will 
find a list of categories: Recommended Apps, Search Apps, Recently Added Apps, App Categories, My Apps, Suggest An App/Make A 
Comment, Donate, Partners, Visit The Braille Institute Online, Call the Braille Institute, and Setting.

If you double tap on the category called App Categories, you will be taken to a long list of categories: Accessibility, 
Communications, Education, Entertainment, Fitness and Health, Identifiers, Navigation and Mobility, News and Weather, Productivity 
and Life Management, and Reading, Writing and Note Taking.
Double tap on Reading, Writing, and Note Taking. Once in that category, you are presented with a list of subcategories. Double tap 
on Books, and you will find a plethora of book apps.

When I tried this, I decided to double tap on Audiobooks from Audible, which I was informed was a free app. I could double tap on 
the download button, which would take me into the App Store to purchase and download the app. I was given plenty of information 
about the app, including its iTunes rating, the platforms on which it can be used, and that the app is Voiceover compatible. For 
good measure, I was told that Mike May of the Sendero group, who is visually impaired, uses the app.

As a blind user, I was given another piece of important information. I learned that the app has made it into the AppleVis Hall of 
Fame. AppleVis is a website that rates Apps on the Mac and IOS platforms based on their accessibility with Voiceover. If an app 
makes it into the AppleVis Hall of Fame, then you know it is definitely accessible with Voiceover.

I was presented with four tabs: description, images, review and discussion, and a description of what three of the four tabs do. 
Finally, I was given plenty of advertisement about the Audible app.

Well, I already have that app, and do not need to download it. But you get the point. So, go ahead-download VIA, which is free, and 
explore the categories. It is a great resource for blind and visually impaired users of the iOS platform. Happy app shopping!



* * * * * * *

TIPS AND TRICKS

Straight Street Crossings
by Leslie Hamric

We often have to stand and listen for a bit to analyze an intersection and figure out when it's safe to cross the street. I find it 
helpful to point my nose right at the perpendicular traffic (the traffic that is passing in front of me) and my right or left ear at 
the parallel traffic, depending on which side my parallel traffic is on. I find it distracting to line up with the curb, because 
some curbs are crooked and others are straight. If you just follow the curb, you never know if you're going to land yourself right 
in the middle of the intersection. Your parallel and perpendicular traffic will always be there for you, no matter what's going on 
under your feet. Happy traveling!

* * * * * * *

A FATHER's TRIBUTE
by Mike McDermott

Our daughter, Erin, was an incredible inspiration. She had a smile that would go on forever. She was always happy. If you were not 
happy, she wanted to know how to make you happy. She could walk into a room full of people that she had never met, and all of them 
would have a lasting memory of her after she left. When you hear the saying "turn your frown upside down," Erin was one of the 
reasons that would happen.

A week after her first birthday, Erin was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was growing at an alarming rate. Her first brain surgery 
left her blind. Erin went through two different chemotherapy treatments that stretched over almost two years. She also had radiation 
therapy five days a week for eight weeks. Erin endured countless other surgeries, including a total of seven more brain operations. 
She took it all in stride.

No one foresaw how well she would adapt to being blind. She learned to read and write Braille as well as a sighted child would read 
and write print. Erin was one of the top readers in her class.

Erin did not let her blindness stop her from doing anything. She took judo. She participated in both the Special Olympics and 
Paralympics. She won gold medals in Special Olympics bowling and set records for her age group in Paralympic Track and Field. She 
played the cello for a while. She played recorder.

Erin loved to sing. Her voice was beautiful. She could hear a song once or twice and have the rhythm down by the third time. Erin 
really enjoyed going on outings. She would go to baseball games, Great America, water parks, cruises, or picnics, and have fun. 
Blindness did not stop her from building with Legos. In fact, she often would spend over an hour at a time building by herself. It 
was something that she would brag about.

Erin loved to live life. Our weekends were full of activities that involved Erin and her brother. She was a wonderful big sister. 
She would offer to help with diaper changing and feeding, and she would read to him.

Erin loved to read. She would find a quiet spot and just start reading. She could finish one book, pick up another one, and keep on 
going. She loved to read to others. And we loved to hear her read.

I can't think of anyone who was more excited about going to school than Erin. She would get up in the morning, and the first thing 
she would talk about was what was going to happen at school that day. She enjoyed taking the school bus and getting to know the 
helpers and drivers.

Erin would arrive at school and greet everyone. From the woman who checked the children, to the security officer at the front desk, 
everyone would get a "good morning" from Erin. She could be at one end of the school hallway, and you could be at the other end, and 
she would know you by your voice or by the way you walked.

Erin loved her family. She enjoyed playing games, especially the card game War, which she would never ever lose.

That is how Erin lived. She never gave up. She fought a courageous battle against odds that were insurmountable. Erin's first brain 
surgeon told us that, even with all the chemotherapy in
the world, she would not make it past her fifth birthday. She proved the doctors wrong. She lived almost eight years longer than any 
doctor said she would.

Erin was loved by everyone. Everyone loved Erin. Even after she passed,
she was still giving. Two people, one from Chicago, one from Toms River, New Jersey, were given the gift of sight from Erin. We miss 
her dearly. I wrote this poem for Erin's thirteenth birthday, the one she had almost reached when her journey on Earth ended, and 
her life in Heaven began anew.

Erin, Today should have been your thirteenth
birthday,

Every year that you were here,
I looked forward to your smile and cheer,
As your birthday approached you would fill with glee,
And tell everyone within earshot how old you would be.

For it was your special day,
I loved to celebrate and say,
"Happy Birthday to you
today!"

Filled with happiness and fun,
You would get
excited and do your little run,
Back and forth in the hall to celebrate the
day,
We would all sing and say,
"Happy Birthday to You Today!"

But now the joy has stopped,
My celebratory bubble has popped,
For you have been taken from me,
There is no happy, no glee.

My broken heart is still stunned and shaken,
>From the moment I first awaken,
To the time I lay my head down,
I can't help it but to frown.

Erin, today should
have been your thirteenth birthday.

Love you, Forever and Eternally,

My Sweet Angel Erin.

Love, Dad

* * * * * * *

ALLEN GLICKMAN: In Memoriam
by Steve Hastalis

A longtime colleague has left us. Many of us came to know Allen Glickman in the 1970s. At about that time he changed careers, 
married Roberta, and joined the National Federation of the Blind (NFB).

In his first career, Allen Glickman ran a newsstand at Montrose and Kimball in Chicago. He worked there until some neighborhood kids 
played a prank and set the stand on fire. Fortunately, Allen got out alive and went on to work in his primary career at the Chicago 
Transit Authority (CTA). He was the second person with significant disabilities who was hired at CTA. I was the first.

Allen worked at CTA for thirty-four years, from March 1976 through March 2010. Anyone who met him, even briefly, understood that he 
had an extensive knowledge of the streets and transit routes of Chicago. He started out in group sales, a department that primarily 
handles requests for charter buses. Allen was working there in 1979, when Chicago experienced a record-setting blizzard. Allen and I 
reported to work on time every day during that winter. A company memo proclaimed, "Congratulations! You've rolled up your sleeves 
..." etc. It went on to delineate how employees who did not make it to work because of the snow could take vacation time, 
compensatory time, or time without pay. Over the years Allen often recalled that we made it to work and that others who didn't 
resented us for it.

Allen's next assignment came in the 1980s, when Chicago began to operate Paratransit service, door-to-door service for people with 
disabilities. He worked there from the inception of this service, which CTA ran internally with twenty small buses. This service 
clearly was not sufficient to cover the city of Chicago. Eventually CTA contracted with several companies to expand the service. In 
2005 the state of Illinois passed legislation again, amending the Regional Transportation Authority (RTA) service. One of the 
changes involved the migration of the Paratransit administration in Chicago from CTA to the PACE Suburban Bus Line, ostensibly to 
create a more region-wide system. Allen expressed concerns about how well the service would work under so new administration. From 
the time of the change until he retired, Allen worked in Customer Service. He primarily handled requests for written materials such 
as CTA maps.

During his thirty-four years at CTA and after he retired, Allen participated actively in the NFB. He attended many state and 
national conventions, Chicago Chapter meetings, and public education events. He carried on an active lifestyle with his 
disabilities. He had a wry sense of humor. In moments of stress he often asked me, "How would you like to attend a Jewish funeral?"

When Allen passed away, Roberta urged me to go to his service, knowing that Allen and I were close. On Thursday, June 12, I attended 
Allen's funeral. The rabbi requested pallbearers. I asked if I could do this, given that Allen and I were longtime coworkers. The 
rabbi agreed, and I joined several others.

We removed the casket from the hearse and carried it to the gravesite. The rabbi recalled Allen's knowledge of Chicago. He recounted 
how Allen cared about people, and gave several examples. He told about how Allen attended the funeral of former Mayor Harold 
Washington and the reception honoring former Mayor Richard M. Daley.

The rabbi led us in prayers, both in English and Hebrew. He began with the Twenty-third Psalm: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not 
want ..." We shoveled dirt onto the casket. Pam Gillmore pressed her cane tip into the dirt, and a lady let Roberta hold a handful. 
The rabbi observed that we had done our final good deed for Allen. Now we must look after Roberta.

Roberta's brother Arnold invited us to his home, where we sat shiva. By fortuitous coincidence, I met a man who serves on the House 
Committee of the Glickmans' synagogue. I now serve on the parish council of my church, and we compared notes. We had a wide-ranging 
discussion about public works, transit projects, and the many friends and acquaintances we had in common. Allen would have enjoyed 
that discussion, and I felt his presence there.

On June 14 the Chicago Chapter held a memorial event for Allen Glickman as part of its monthly meeting. MANY chapter members shared 
their loving memories of Allen. He will be greatly missed. Let us carry on his legacy of consistency and dedication.

Here follows the obituary that Roberta submitted to the Chicago Tribune.

DEATH NOTICE: Allen Donald Glickman.

Allen Donald Glickman, 67, passed away June 10 after a short illness. He is survived by his loving wife, Roberta May Miller; his 
brother, Michael; his sister, Helen; his devoted brother-in-law, Arnie; and his nephews, Bryan and Jeffrey. He was preceded in death 
by his loving parents, Jerome and Lillian Glickman. Graveside service Thursday, 12 PM, at Zion Garden Cemetery, 6758 W. Addison, 
Chicago. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in his memory to the National Federation of the Blind at www.nfb.org or (773) 
307-6440. Arrangements by Chicago Jewish Funerals, Skokie Chapel, (847) 229-8822.