To an exile, hearing news from home is wonderful. I believe that I've earned the right to understand that feeling. When I was a child, the government of Alberta and British Columbia sent me to an institution because they assumed that I couldn't be taught at my local public school. Because I was among strangers in a strange province, I feel justified in empathising with outcasts and deportees.In Deliverance from Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), I wrote about how radio became my best friend in that uncaring asylum. It kept me sane and helped me momentarily forget how far from home I was.
One day in November of 1969, it also brought the feeling of home to me. Here's how that happened.
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The atmospheric conditions also provided a different type of sublime experience. On another foggy afternoon, I sat on my bed while tuning the dial of the vacuum tube radio. Suddenly, I discovered distant stations coming in. That was unusual since they generally were heard only at night. As I turned the tuning knob, I heard CFRN, one of the Edmonton radio stations. It seemed like a voice from home. A delightful nostalgia filled my heart. For that brief time, I felt connected to the place I loved.
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Deliverance from Jericho is filled with many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Read more about Deliverance from Jericho here. Please feel free to contact me directly as well.
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Deliverance from Jericho is filled with many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Read more about Deliverance from Jericho here. Please feel free to contact me directly as well.
This reminds me of the time when the local vocational rehabilitation agency here in Sheridan, Wyoming, sent me to a college prep program at a rehabilitation center in Topeka, Kansas, many miles from home. I had just turned twenty, and I wasn't used to being so far from home. Nothing was familiar except the country station I found that reminded me of the station I listened to back home. It was that country music that got me through that awful summer at the Kansas Rehabilitation Center for the Blind.
ReplyDeleteAbbie Johnson Taylor, Author of We Shall Overcome
And
How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver
http://abbiescorneroftheworld.blogspot.com
http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com