We went to see The Miracle Worker at the Woodland
Opera House tonight. It was a very good production and the young woman who played
Helen did an excellent job.
I never see this show without thinking of our friend
Georgia Griffith, our own Helen Keller, who died in 2005. As my friend, Tom Sims
wrote in an article called "The
First Woman of Cyberspace," She
graduated cum laude from Capital University where she was a member of Phi Beta Kappa. She
had been a music teacher, could play 12 instruments knew at least 7 languages. She was
featured in Discover and People magazines, conversed online with the Vice President, had
an exhibit in the Smithsonian Institution and was inducted into the Ohio Women’s Hall
of Fame. She single-handedly designed the IBM Special Needs Data Base and held the highest
certification as a Braille music proof-reader for the Library of Congress. For eighteen
years she managed some of the busiest and most volatile forums on CompuServe with a
membership of thousands. She was a woman of deep personal faith.
(I encourage reading all of Tom's
article for a real in-depth view of who Georgia was.)
After corresponding with Georgia through the CompuServe
Issues forum, I met her in 1997 when she came to San Francisco for a conference of Braille
readers and she invited Walt and me to be her guests at a banquet, along with several
other friends.
Later that year, she was honored by the Smithsonian Museum for her
contribution to information technology for the handicapped ("Handicapped" was
her preferred term...she frequently said "I'm not disabled; I'm handicapped, like in
golf.")
We were able to travel to D.C. to be with her
for the Smithsonian honors. She was recognized along with about 30 other people in
one of the most bizarre ceremonies I've ever seen where the recipients were kept standing
in the blazing sun while the dignitaries partied in a covered area with hors d'oeuvres.
The way they awarded the medals to the recipients was strange n that
they read their names off like a graduation ceremony, with two or three different people
giving out the medals, but you couldn't tell who was who, or who had done what.
Then there was the "banquet" on one of the porches of the
Smithsonian building. The tables looked lovely but the food were all in colored
Chinese take-out-like boxes. It was as if they had gone to the Dollar Store for
food. Each box held something different, but there was absolutely no cohesion
whatsoever. You might have had chow mein or cold slaw or a cookie. Nothing was
labeled and you didn't know what you were picking. I've never seen anything so
weird.
A reporter came to interview Georgia and couldn't seem to get it into
her mind that Georgia could not hear her.
But it was a unique event and I'm glad we were there. And after
we went to see the exhibit about Georgia in the museum, we met with Ohio Senator Mike
DeWine.
I found out later that he and I disagreed on most social issues, but
it was nice being in his office while they met each other. I later wrote him a note
about the death of his son (who had been killed in an auto accident), and told him and
Paul and David. He sent back a lovely hand-written letter, so I kind of forgive him
for his stance against gay marriage. Sort of.
Georgia could speak, because she spoke for more than 30 years before
losing her hearing. You either drew words into her hand and she would answer you by
speaking or you sat at a machine called a versibraille. You typed on a regular
keyboard and it raised pins on her keyboard so she could read your comment in braille and
then she answered you by speaking.
Georgia chatting with Sean Friedman |
I watched her converse with people in 3 different languages one
night.
Walt and I visited her with my mother when Jeri was doing summer stock in
Ohio and we stayed at Georgia's house. She lived independently, but relied on her
sister for everything. She had also lost her balance and so could no longer stand at
a stove and cook, and her house had hand rails everywhere, that she either hung onto, or
she crawled around the house.
She had several computers in her office, but only one monitor and
when I asked to use a computer, she crawled around the snakepit of electric cords to find
the one that would connect the monitor. It was an amazing sight to watch how
expertly she knew all of those cords.
I remember getting up before sunrise on the morning after we stayed
there and seeing Georgia sitting on the couch, just waiting for her sister to arrive with
breakfast. It took me a second to realize that of course she would not have turned
on a light because she lived in darkness.
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