The sounds of silence….

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

It is estimated anywhere between 9 to 12 of every 1,000 people in the United States have severely impaired hearing. Half of these are folks over age 64, and thankfully, only 1 in 1000 are functionally deaf prior to 18 years of age.

My folks were from Fulton, Missouri. This is home to the Missouri School for the Deaf. People are people, and the deaf population in this town mingle and get along/around, magnificently. It is not uncommon to see “signing’ in the aisle of the grocery store, at a little league game, or on a bench outside the Courthouse.

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

My cousin Roger, now deceased, was my idol growing up. The high school football quarterback, the shooting guard on the basketball team… a brief trip down the ‘wild lane’.. Viet Nam hero…Purple Heart.. Made something outta his life. Roger, at one time was the Principal at the Missouri School for the Deaf. Roger also coached the Boy’s basketball team there.

Rival games in Olathe, KS afforded this cousin an easy trip to watch his kids play. If you’da just had a video camera, no sound, you’da never been able to distinguish from any other high school basketball game. Cheerleaders cheered. Hoopsters hooped. Parents clapped with pride. Regular. These kids were regular ole kids, with the only exception being robbed of auditory capacity. Memories I’ll cherish for my lifetime - my cousin assisting these kids to live/lead ‘normal’ lives.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

As I type, the birds are chirping. Channel 9 is blaring the forecast in the background. The fan provides a nice flow of air, and an easing sound. I can’t imagine. I can’t stick my feet in their shoes.

"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

Another self-lesson to me, Victor, and whoever else wants it - we’re blessed. Mosta those kids traveling to the Deaf School in Fulton end up hanging their hat there for life. It’s a good fit, a nice mix - a wonderful community.

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence

Regular. Fulton, Roger, the community, afford these folks normalcy. Just one glance at a world many of us don’t know - but how special it is.. The sounds of silence. Yet regular. Love, Victurd.