One Tiny Rock Changed My Life Forever

Losing an eye led me into teaching.

It was one of those lazy days of summer. Yet, we rarely lacked for things to do. Some days we fished or built forts along the small stream which flowed a little north of our little town. Other days we played baseball or shot hoops. Regretfully, we chose a different activity on that day.

In spite of the warning, we decided to have a little fun by throwing rocks at each other. The driveway had plenty of rocks which suddenly began flying freely in every direction. One of those rocks struck my left eye and changed my life forever!

My friends were stunned, but they followed me home where I ran into my house crying. My mom acted quickly. She looked at my eye, had me lie down on the couch and brought me an ice bag. The ice game some temporary relief from the pain.

The next day my parents drove me to Flora, a nearby town, to see an optometrist. He examined my eye, but didn’t find anything noticeably wrong. He told my parents to give me aspirin for the pain and to put warm compresses on my eye.

Each day my headaches became more severe! Fortunately, one of our neighbors suggested that my parents take me to an eye clinic in Lafayette.

At the Ade Clinic, Dr. Landis took one look at my eye and sent me immediately across the street to Home Hospital. A few minutes later I was whisked into surgery. I was only eight years old, but I remember the experience as vividly as if it was yesterday!

Even today, I grimace when I think about how it felt when that large needle entered the side of my left eye. It took several people to hold me on the operating table! The needle was to remove blood from my eye.

The impact of the rock had caused internal hemorrhaging inside my eye. The severe headaches were due to the pressure of blood building up in my eye. The doctor said I was very lucky I got to the clinic when I did because my eye could have exploded if the pressure had not been relieved.

About a year later, I was faced with an impossible decision. After three surgeries, the doctors told my parents they were not going to be able to restore the sight in my left eye. The pressure from the bleeding had destroyed the rods and cones inside my eye.

The doctors told my mom and dad about another option. The surgeons could remove my left eye and replace it with an artificial one. My parents told them the decision was mine to make.

As I wrestled with the decision, I had a flashback memory of a girl at my elementary school. She would nonchalantly take out her glass eye and show it proudly to our class. Then, there were thoughts of the pain and recovery I had already endured from previous operations. So, I decided to just keep my eye and make the most of it. I have often regretted that decision!

Before I left the hospital my doctors painted a pretty grim picture for my future. They said because I just had one good eye, I should be very careful and not rough house around or take unnecessary chances because another injury could leave me totally blind. That was very depressing to hear as a young boy. My parents were understandably afraid and extremely overprotective.

My good friend, Mike, had a much more positive vision for my future. We had shared many wonderful times before my accident. Mike was four years older than me, but he had been my friend and my mentor.

Mike taught me how to fish, how to play baseball and basketball and how to pass the time in those restful hours of our youth. During football season he was always the quarterback and I was the receiver. He referred to me as his “Hot Rod Hundley.” Other times we would just sit together for hours and not say a word. Mike taught me how to keep a baseball and basketball scorebook and we even used to watch the Friday Night Fights on TV and score each round. Just spending time together was all we needed. He was my hero and most of all, my best friend.

Mike didn’t want me to sit around feeling sorry for myself. He said , “There is no reason you cannot still do all those things we had enjoyed before.” Mike said I might have to do things a little differently than others, but he would be there to help.

I will never forget how patient he was with me as I tried and tried, but finally his patience and my persistence paid off. With his help and encouragement I was able to compete quite well in baseball and basketball.

There were still obstacles to overcome. Varsity scouting reports allowed opposing players to take advantage of my limited field of vision. On the basketball court, defenders would overplay and blind side me. This made it very difficult to play with my back to the basket, but I quickly realized my game was facing the basket, outside shooting, driving to the hoop and offensive rebound put backs.

In baseball I realized when I stepped into the batter’s box, pitchers would try to take advantage of my lack of depth perception. It was nearly impossible for me to hit breaking balls because I couldn’t see the spin or break. Despite this steady diet of curve balls, I still managed to find enough occasional fastballs to move my teammates around the bases. I waited for the first fastball and hit it whether it was a strike or not!

The impact Mike had on my life during those early years, and his unrelenting dedication to helping me created the my passion for me to become a teacher and coach. I wanted to help others find their path to successful lives.

Robbie was my pony league baseball coach. He was blind in his left eye too. He was a passionate coach and very successful high school teacher. I remember looking at him while he was talking. I could never really tell if he was looking at me or someone else. Watching him was like seeing myself in the mirror.

Even today, I am uneasy about the way I look. I know how hard it is for others to look at my face and have a conversation with me without feeling distracted by the way my eye looks. If I could have seen the future over 60 years ago, I might have made a different decision about having a prosthetic eye.

As a result of Mike’s help, I did compete in baseball, basketball, track & field, and cross country in high school. Still, driving my car at night or walking down unfamiliar stairs were very challenging activities.

My senior year I remember the guidance counselor calling me to her office. She told me I could receive some financial aid for college due to my handicap.

Handicap had never been a word in my vocabulary! I had never considered myself handicapped. I had never used the fact that I could only see out of one eye as an excuse. I had both arms, both legs and all of my fingers and toes. She explained to me that visual impairment is considered a handicap.

My counselor was very helpful setting up an interview with a vocational rehabilitation counselor in West Lafayette. This government program provided part of my tuition for college. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it helped me be able to enter Indiana University in the fall of 1968.

Another unexpected benefit of my handicap was a 1-Y draft classification. In 1968 the Vietnam War was in full swing and many of my high school classmates faced the prospects of enlisting or being drafted into military service. My 1-Y status meant that I could be called into active service only in the case of a national emergency.

Over the years, I have told the story many times about how I lost my eyesight, but one day at Peru Junior High a student asked me a question I had never considered.

Suddenly, I realized there was a person somewhere who needed closure. I didn’t know who threw the rock. I had never asked and no one had come forward to tell me. I thought, “Could one of my friends be carrying a terrible burden of guilt for the past 40 years?”

I decided to make it my mission to visit those who I thought were throwing rocks on the day I got hit. I wanted to hug them and let them know that I held no ill feelings toward anyone. I had that conversation with several friends who were there that day. Surprisingly, I still don’t know who threw the rock, but I feel so much better knowing I might have released a friend from his guilt.

It was purely an accident, but the fate of that rock hitting my eye that July afternoon changed the course of my life forever. Today, I carry the evidence of that horrible mistake in judgement, but it has made me stronger and more compassionate toward others, particularly those struggling with disabilities.

Today, if I see kids throwing rocks, I don’t hesitate to get involved. I go up to them and ask them stop. I show them my eye and explain to them what can happen to them. I can’t bear the thought of any child losing an eye the way I did!

Most listen and heed my warning, but others are just as foolish as I was that day when I lost my sight.

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