Originally appeared in Silent News, January 2002.

When a couple has a child that needs immediate care, they expect top-notch, accessible service. Even with the Americans with Disabilities Act having been enacted a decade ago, doctors’ offices and other medical providers often continue to violate the powerful law when deaf patients ask for equal communication access.

The Majochas aren’t any different. Anna and Darrin Majocha of Pittsburgh, Pa., filed a lawsuit against the Pittsburgh Ear, Nose & Throat Associates in March 2000, when the couple was denied an interpreter for their son’s consultation.

Darrin, who is deaf and communicates in American Sign Language, and Anna, who is hearing, were referred to the highly-recommended clinic in August 1999 for a surgical evaluation for their hearing son, related to a recurrent ear infection. An appointment was made, and Anna requested an interpreter for Darrin so that her husband could participate fully in the medical consultation. The office refused, but the couple continued to request interpreting services.

Anna said, “When the doctors denied us an interpreter, we felt frustrated and anxious because our son needed care and this care was being delayed. We were persistent with our request because we felt it was important to have both parents involved in the appointment and we also knew that we were entitled to have an interpreter.”

Anna also said that the office suggested that she come to the appointment alone, or that she serve as interpreter. “At one point, the office even questioned the effectiveness of communication between my husband and myself. It was insulting to have to explain that we do in fact know how to communicate with one another.”

The office persisted in trying to refer the couple to other clinics, but the couple refused because Pittsburgh Ear Nose and Throat was so highly recommended. The office proceeded to cancel the appointment, and sent a letter informing the Majochas that they would not provide medical care.

“It was truly embarrassing to receive such a letter,” the mother remembered. “At times, we were fearful of being blackballed by other doctors’ offices. We also worried that our son would receive second-rate care.”

In Sept. 2000, the federal district court deciding the case handed the Majochas a victory, denying a defense motion for summary judgment in its entirety. In his decision, Judge Donald Lee cited the letter sent by Pittsburgh Ear, Nose & Throat Associates denying the Majochas medical care and said the letter was “as close to a smoking gun as it gets in federal court.”

The couple, who settled for an undisclosed amount of money, said that their son ended up needing immediate surgery in addition to three surgeries after that. Interpreters were requested and provided for all visits.

“Even though the process of persistently requesting an interpreter was difficult, it was worth it in the end. There is legislation to protect deaf and hard of hearing people from this type of discrimination, but typically it is difficult to enforce, especially if you are working alone,” Anna said.

Anna works for the Arbitration Division of the Common Pleas Court in Allegheny County in Pittsburgh, in addition to jointly coordinating with Darrin the Deaf Youth Program at Pittsburgh Hearing, Speech and Deaf Services, Inc. Darrin also cares for the couple’s two children three days a week at home.

The doctor’s office, under the terms of the settlement, rescinded the letter it sent, and will provide qualified interpreters and assistive listening devices at no charge to patients. The clinic will also train all of the office’s staff and physicians on the new policies, in addition to posting signs in prominent locations advising patients of their rights.

Anna added, “We hope that these small steps help others who are confronted with these issues on a daily basis. Obviously, this case will only strengthen the ability of all individuals to enforce the current laws protecting Deaf people. I hope our fight encourages other families with Deaf members to stand up for their rights as well.”

Copyrighted material. This article cannot be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, December 2001.

In late August, I had to get some blood tests done for a routine exam. The doctor referred me to a lab run by Lab Corp, so I went in a few days later. Never did I imagine what would happen to me next.

I entered the office, and went to sign in. The receptionist, obviously not familiar with how to communicate with a deaf person who couldn’t speak, kept on speaking even though I had indicated that she should write. After several times of asking for paper and pen and being denied, I reached into my own bag and got out paper. “Please write, it’s easier to communicate. I can’t understand what you say,” I scribbled. The woman smiled, nodded, and indicated that I should give her my insurance card. I obliged, then she pointed toward the corner of the small office. I looked and saw nothing except a TV. I looked back, and she had been speaking to me the whole time my head was turned away. After a few moments of this and my asking her to “please write,” she took my arm and walked around the desk (still holding my arm) and escorted me over to this small end table next to the TV. She then put her hands on top of my shoulders and “sat” me down.

It turns out that she wanted me to fill out a registration form that was in a pile on that table. By now, I was blushing furiously with the entire waiting room audience looking at me. She walked back to her desk saying something, and suddenly every person looked at me. I filled the form out, and walked back to the receptionist’s desk. I wrote, “Could you repeat what you just said to the room?” She smiled and shook her head no, motioning for me to sit down.

I started reading a magazine, feeling incredibly stupid. I felt a nurse walk over and stand in front of me, looking at me. I didn’t want to look up, so I kept reading… after three minutes (I counted), she was still staring at me, so I finally gave up. She shook her head disapprovingly, and walked off. I suddenly realized I was supposed to follow her. Why didn’t she tap me on the shoulder? I entered the room, and the nurse said something to me.

I wrote, “What’s going on?” on a napkin. She said something that I thought I misunderstood. I wrote, “Did you just say you don’t serve deaf people?” She read the napkin, and nodded her head. I stood there, flabbergasted.

I walked out silently, clutching the napkin. I went to the front desk, and asked the receptionist to give me another nurse. Suddenly the nurse came walking to the receptionist desk, where a second nurse had appeared. The first nurse was speaking loudly and making a lot of angry gestures. I was completely lost as to what was taking place, so I looked at another patient who was giving me sympathetic looks. She mouthed, “They’re going to ask you to leave.” What?! I looked at her questioningly, and she mouthed, “Deaf.” Sure enough, the nurse came up to me and started talking.

I decided it’d be wise if I just left quietly, without causing further commotion. I gathered up my things quickly, and walked out to my truck.

I immediately got in touch with a few friends to find out what I should do, and most of them encouraged me to sue immediately. After some thought, I decided to try and check my legal resources. I really didn’t want to sue, because I wanted to write a letter first and see if I could resolve it at that level. A few days later, I went to a different facility (same corporation) for the blood tests. The people there were very friendly, and gave me the contact information for Lab Corp’s quality assurance. I then wrote a letter explaining that I felt it was an unfortunate situation to happen, especially to someone as empowered and educated as I am. What if it had happened to someone who didn’t know his or her rights? I asked for an apology letter, signage in their patient service centers (all 900 of them) indicating that they would provide assistance to anyone who asked for it, and sensitivity training.

Well, a few months passed, and I almost forgot about the incident until a coworker asked me about it earlier this week. I promised myself I’d follow up on it after I finished the December issue.

Today, I got a floral delivery. I opened the card, and it said, “We apologize for any inconvenience. – Lab Corp”

That stunned me. Now, that’s either the best lawsuit deterrent, or that’s class.

The next day, I got two letters. One was from Lab Corp’s headquarters apologizing and saying they would meet each of my requests (training and signage). The other letter was from the two nurses involved apologizing for their behavior.

In our sue-happy society, we sometimes forget that it’s okay to simply resolve conflicts by writing effective letters. And we forget that individuals within companies do screw up – and the companies that actually do something about these screw-ups are the companies I will do business with.

I once had a ticket agent hang up on me when I was trying to make three plane reservations through Vanguard Airlines. The man simply didn’t have the patience to deal with a relay call and said, “Can’t the deaf woman get her mommy to call or something?” and hung up. I went on the website and found an e-mail address for “feedback.” I figured it was probably a waste of time, but what the hey? Less than 16 hours later, I got a response. Apparently that specific call had been monitored by the man’s supervisor, and the man was fired on the spot. I also got a free round-trip ticket out of it, in addition to a few free drink vouchers. Not bad. And yes, I continued to fly Vanguard.

On page 4, you will see a story by Stacy Nowak about Art Roehring’s experiences of being denied a flight to Italy last summer. While that matter hasn’t been resolved yet, Roehring is doing the right thing in trying to contact the airlines and doing his homework before he goes ahead and sues anyone. I certainly hope Sabena gives him an apology at least.

But flowers aren’t such a bad way to apologize, either.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, December 2001.

The United States flag has long been a source of pride and patriotism. In the wake of the recent tragedies in the nation, the flag has suddenly become even more meaningful and necessary. Americans United Flag Across America was one of the organizations trying to help raise funds by carrying the flag from Boston to Los Angeles between Oct. 11 and Nov. 11.

The starting and ending locations symbolized the original departure and arrival locations of American Airlines Flight 11 and United Airlines Flight 175, which were hijacked by terrorists on Sept. 11 and crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City. Proceeds from the run will go towards the victims of these attacks.

Bill Estes of Alabama, along with his uncle, Benje Estes, and Bill’s 10-year-old son Cody, ran with the flag in Talladega County, Ala., on Sunday, Oct. 21. Bill and Benje were the only known deaf runners who participated in this run. “We got involved after getting information from our friend in Atlanta. We decided to volunteer through the website,” Bill said. “We ran four miles in the eastern part of Eastaboga, and ran into Eastaboga on US-78 heading to Lincoln.”

The flag carried across the country was flown over Iraq in the cockpit of a U.S. F-16 in support of Operation Southern Watch on Oct. 2. “We hope to do the very thing that we are doing – honor our fallen crews and others killed in the aircraft attacks on Sept. 11 and remind the nation that the flag was flying when we went through tough times in the past,” said First Officer Todd Wissing, the national coordinator of communications for the run.

The Estes made an impression on those who watched them participate. Alabama’s coordinator for the run Pat Ryan said, “I was absolutely awestruck at how dedicated and motivated to the cause they and their families were. They had a large entourage with them, some [deaf] and some not.”

Ryan said that each of the Estes trio ran two segments of two to three miles at night without extra escorts. “Bill and Benje are both well-trained distance runners and could run like the wind. The fact that these two deaf gentlemen ran with the flag at night across hilly terrain in the most challenging conditions we encountered in the state is testament to the fact that they are truly great American patriots who love their country and are not afraid to show it.”

However, Bill was modest about his participation, saying, “It is hard to describe the experience. What ran through my mind when I ran was how difficult it is to be in the war and how bad it is in New York, D.C., and Pennsylvania compared to what I was doing – I was only running four miles.”

Wissing said, “”If we want to remain free, we have to now be brave – and we as a people and a nation are up to these challenges, just as we have been in the past. That is the message we are sending.”

For more information on the run, visit www.flagrun.org.

Copyrighted material. This article may not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, December 2001.

Kids think it’s a cool toy. The box, with different colored cards, is often used on playgrounds, with parents, during classes, and even riding in the car. The colors and portability of the box seem to draw in children, who like the sense of ‘ownership’ by the words “My Sight Word Box” on the device.

My Sight Word Box is a new educational tool developed by Sherry Kilgore, a first-grade teacher with over 20 years of experience who is based in Fayetteville, Ga. The Sight Word Box is a transparent box that measures five inches high and six inches wide, packed with color-coded “sight words,” words that children learn by sight or repetition.

“My Sight Word Box’s method is learned by sight. You do not have to hear the words, because sight words are not phonetically based,” Kilgore, who does not know sign language, says. “The visual aspect is what makes it successful. Your goal is ‘instant recognition.’ They do not have to think about the word. They just see it and recognize on sight.”

The words, carefully grouped together by Kilgore to build confidence through practice, are divided into five-color coded levels in order of frequency. The cards are also structured by grade or learning levels. Described as the “opposite of phonics,” words like “was” and “what” can’t be learned by phonics or from picture association, Kilgore says. “My Sight Word Box is culturally and linguistically fair, affordable, and user-friendly for all children.”

Kilgore believes this educational tool is an excellent opportunity for deaf and hard of hearing children. She cites the example of Dylan Slappey, a partially deaf first-grader who worked with Tracey Tyree, Kilgore’s company partner who is a teacher as well. Dylan entered his first-grade classroom with minimal enthusiasm and a short attention span, and did not succeed using a phonics-based program. When he was introduced to My Sight Word Box, “An amazing thing happened. Dylan’s confidence began to grow and his interest in school began to improve,” Tyree remembers. It was discovered soon after, during a school-wide hearing screening, that Dylan had profound deafness in his right ear that was undetected from birth.

“I feel that the visual aspect of these words can help all children, regardless of their disability, learn to read,” Kilgore says. “Sight words can be learned by all, through drill and practice. Repetitive learning works. I have witnessed this in my classroom. Each time a child learns a word, their confidence is being built. With increased confidence, the child wants to read. That is what makes this program a success.”

While the product has not been used yet in deaf schools or deaf programs, Kilgore thinks it will be received positively by instructors of the deaf. Tyree agrees, saying, “We aren’t speaking from the prospective of bureaucrats who attempt to solve problems of education without firsthand experience in the classroom; we are teachers who are striving to impact classrooms of students across America.”

More information about My Sight Word Box is at www.mysightwordbox.com.

Copyrighted material. This article may not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, December 2001.

For many people, the experience of going to see the doctor is a cumbersome and frustrating experience. And of course, many deaf and hard of hearing people have to also worry about whether the doctor knows how to communicate with them or whether the doctor has patience for the extra time involved.

The 230-250 deaf patients who go to the Advocate Medical Group, based near Chicago in Arlington Heights, Ill., don’t have these kinds of worries, because the program offers interpreting services with every medical appointment. The clinic began catering to deaf patients when Dr. Carolyn Stern, who is deaf, established a practice with the Lutheran General Hospital system.

“I pushed for deaf/hard of hearing services and a centralized site within the hospital,” Dr. Stern said, “so that when a deaf or hard of hearing person came into the hospital, there would be a smooth transition no matter where the deaf person was in the hospital.”

Dr. Stern left Advocate Medical Group in 1998 to join her current partner, Dr. Timothy Malia, in establishing a fully accessible office for deaf, hard of hearing and hearing patients, in Rochester, N.Y. The deaf patients were left wondering what would happen to the ease of1 communication with their doctors. Lisa Kivland, who came on staff in 1996 as a staff interpreter, said, “It was decided that the program serving the deaf and hard of hearing community would be kept intact and relocated to another office within the Advocate Medical Group.” A doctor who was affiliated with the American Hearing Impaired Hockey Association (AHIHA), Dr. Benjamin Hasan, took over the deaf patient base with the use of an interpreter.

“At first, deaf patients were reluctant to change from their deaf doctor to a new doctor with an interpreter in the exam room,” Kivland remembered. But this was soon overcome when the patients realized it was as convenient as having a deaf doctor.

“I had a family doctor that I could not lip-read or write back and forth with because the doctor was from a different country,” Tom Nedved of Elgin, Ill., said. He found out about the Advocate program from a friend and decided to try the services with his wife, Carla. They immediately found the services to their liking. “It is a wonderful opportunity. This way, there is no misunderstanding with the doctors and the interpreter.”

Today, although Dr. Hasan has moved onto different opportunities, the clinic has six family practice doctors and two pediatricians who are familiar with deaf and hard of hearing needs and provide routine health care. The clinic works with most insurance companies, and has a 24-hour answering service that is TTY-accessible, according to Kivland. If a patient needs more specialized services, they are sent to a specialist in collaboration with the clinic, with the services of an interpreter. Kivland works closely with Lutheran General Hospital Patient Relations/Patient Services Department to ensure that appointments are filled and interpreters – usually certified – are provided that suit the patient’s needs. “The hospital has been very committed to providing quality communication services to the deaf population.”

Dr. Stern is pleased with how the program has developed with her initial efforts. “I am happy that Lutheran General and Advocate Medical Group has continued its commitment to serving the Deaf and Hard of Hearing community,” she said. “I am proud of my achievement, but more importantly, for the Deaf community, I am happy that the Deaf Services within Advocate continue to do well!”

“We will get the best care there,” Nedved said. “There is total communication. We are very comfortable and very confident with the doctor and interpreter services available for the deaf patients.”

“We’d love to have another deaf doctor or a physician that signs, but in reality, it’s the attitude towards the population that really counts,” Kivland stated. “Every deaf patient deserves the ability to communicate effectively with their physicians.”

People interested in this program may contact the Advocate Medical Group deaf/hard of hearing services at (847) 640-4426 TTY.

Copyrighted material. This article may not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, December 2001.

In 1982, deaf-owned mail order businesses primarily consisted of selling TTYs and decoders. Today, these businesses sell everything from TTYs to pagers to books to posters to, yes, even signing stuffed animals. “In the beginning, TTYs were very ‘hot-selling.’ At that time, there was no such state equipment distribution programs to give away free TTYs. The deaf community had substantial economic clout,” Bob Harris remembers.

Bob is the man behind Harris Communications, a deaf-owned mail order business celebrating its 20th anniversary in 2002. The business started in the basement of Bob’s townhouse in Fridley, Minn., a far cry from its facilities today in Eden Prairie, Minn.

To understand how Harris Communications has reached its 20th anniversary, one must learn about Bob Harris. Bob has long been a champion for deaf rights, deaf empowerment and deaf entrepreneurship. But very few people know that he also has a doctorate in clinical psychology; that he was an athlete in high school; and that his father was also a businessman.

Bob was born in Chicago, and his family moved to Milwaukee immediately afterwards. A bout with spinal meningitis left Bob profoundly deaf at the age of eight months, but he was not diagnosed until two years of age. Upon discovering his deafness, Bob was immediately enrolled in speech therapy and his mother became involved with a correspondence course offered through the John Tracy Clinic. Bob eventually attended a public school in Shorewood, Wis., a suburb of Milwaukee, where he was mainstreamed for a few classes but spent most of his time in “deaf” classes.

“When I went to Shorewood High School, I was fully mainstreamed. I did not have any interpreter or notetakers at all,” Bob wrote in a 1989 Deaf American article. “I did not understand regular teachers at all. I was really bored and very restless… I was very angry. I often complained to my parents about how much time I had wasted in regular classes.”

At Shorewood High, Bob lettered in several sports, including basketball, cross-country, track and football. “My excellence in sports gave me a sense of confidence and an opportunity to win the respect and friendship from hearing classmates,” he wrote in Deaf American.

After high school, Bob visited Gallaudet College (now University). There, he was blown away by the accessibility of communication. “I did not know sign language at that time – I had too much pride as an oralist,” he wrote. He decided to attend Lake Forest College instead because he had heard that another deaf student was attending the college as well. After a difficult four years, he graduated with a degree in psychology. During this time, Bob was introduced to Dr. McCay Vernon, a well-known psychologist, in 1968. “For the first time in my life, I had someone to look up to… I did not have any career education at all. I told Dr. Vernon about my dream of becoming a superintendent. He warned me that hearing people might not be ready to accept a deaf person as a superintendent.” Vernon instead suggested that Bob think about becoming a psychologist, and they discussed the possibility of Bob attending Gallaudet as an exchange student to learn about deaf culture and the deaf community.

Bob did just that, attending Gallaudet for one semester in the fall of 1969. After graduation from Lake Forest with honors and being elected to Phi Beta Kappa, Bob attended New York University for a five-year doctoral program in clinical psychology – this time, with interpreting services. Completing his courses in 1973, he relocated to Rochester, N.Y., to work as a psychology intern, where he completed his doctoral studies in 1976. He was lured to Minnesota with a position at St. Paul-Ramsey Medical Center, where he worked as a clinical psychologist.

So how did Bob go from being a high school athlete to a well-educated psychologist to company owner? Throughout his studies, Bob had always had a personal interest in business and economics. He credits this interest to his father’s business marketing experience. “I picked up a lot of things which contributed to my pre-business personality traits,” Bob remembered. “In 1959, my father established his own entrepreneurship as the president of a new lumber company.”

Bob worked for his father during his high school and college years. “I learned very quickly that there was no future for me as a business man. My speech was never intelligible. There were no TDDs, interpreters, dual message systems, or television decoders… I did not see how I could communicate with hearing customers or hearing employees at my father’s office,” his Deaf American article said.

While at St. Paul-Ramsey Hospital, he began to become more serious and expand on his interest in finance and stock investing. To help ease communication barriers, Bob asked his stockbroker and real estate partner to purchase TTYs – and they asked him to find a discount. Bob called Krown Research to see if he could get a discount for quantity orders. Krown then suggested that he become a TTY dealer to receive a ten-percent discount. This was only a side job for Bob – nowhere near even a part-time job. However, he got laid off from his psychologist position, and eventually went through a series of mundane jobs. Suddenly, Bob began to receive more and more orders for TTYs without really knowing the reason, so he decided to devote more time to the business. During this time, he studied trade shows, developed flyers and marketing materials, packed and shipped orders, and even performed bookkeeping.

To alleviate the issue of voice calls, Bob contracted with a private service that had a TTY as part of a dual message relay service. Voice calls were forwarded to his answering service. The small, part-time order business became officially the TTY/TDD Distributor of Minnesota in 1982.

Even so, Bob was never satisfied with his business. He knew there was room for growth, room for increase in revenue. He continued his studies of trade shows and other businesses. But one frustration persisted: the phone calls he had to handle. “I knew that I could solve it by hiring an interpreter or a hearing secretary answer voice calls for me, but it would cost me a lot of money. One way or another, I knew I had to make a decision whether to undertake a risk and contribute my monies to business to hire a hearing person and hope to expand my business. I decided to go for it,” Bob wrote.

In 1985, he subcontracted with a handicraft store to rent a warehouse and pay the personnel on a monthly fee to handle phone calls and orders. Eventually, the company grew and he changed the name to Harris Communications in November 1985. For several years, he continued to practice psychology in the afternoons while running Harris Communications.

Today, the company has 32 employees, and Bob has no time to practice psychology anymore. Bob is pensive about the changes he has seen over the past twenty years in the area of technology and what he calls “deaf economic clout.”

By economic clout, he refers to the power to help control the deaf market in TTYs, decoders, pagers and other necessary devices. Initially, TTYs were the best selling device – then closed captioning decoders began selling in the early 1980s. “It added further to the deaf community’s economic clout. Since deaf people had to pay for both the TTYs and the decoders, they were really empowered,” Bob explained. “They had to make their own budget priorities so that they could save sufficient monies to purchase these devices for independent living.”

Then statewide distribution programs began providing TTYs and other devices at no or low cost, and Bob feels this impacted that clout greatly. With the growth of these programs, in addition to government regulations requiring that all TVs bigger than 13 inches have built-in captions. “As a result,” Bob said, “There were less opportunities for deaf business owners and deaf customers to interact with each other.”

However, Bob feels that the growth of technology in the past five years has brought the shift back onto deaf buying power, with mainstream companies taking advantage of the two-way pager phenomenon and with deaf people becoming employed in the technology sector. “There also has been a boom interest in many deaf communities to host deaf entertainment trade shows, creating a new era of entertainment for the deaf community who enjoy looking at new products, attending entertainment shows, socializing with old friends and meeting new faces, building up a sense of deaf pride, and participating in door prize contests.”

Bob cites milestones such as the move from the basement to the office, as a big transition, in addition to the marketing efforts the company undertook in 1991 when they began using a one-stop catalog rather than leaflets for advertising. “Previously, we had to make copies of different brochures from different suppliers and put them together in mass mailings. This transition [to the catalog] allowed our company to create a new corporate image as a one-stop shopping source.”

However, this doesn’t mean Harris Communications doesn’t have more plans for the future. “We hope to continue the Harris tradition of providing excellent customer services while searching for good quality products that are user-friendly,” Bob said.

“I founded my business in serving the deaf community because I love working with the deaf people and, eventually in later years, the hard of hearing community. My business would never have been what we are now, without ongoing and loyal support from these communities For this part, I salute to them for their economic clout.”

Bob sees a bright future for both Harris Communication and the deaf and hard of hearing communities. “Thanks to the [Americans with Disabilities Act] regulations and Internet-based technology as a powerful tool in closing gaps between deaf and hearing communities with respect to information dissemination and telecommunication, the future is bright for deaf people to pursue in establishing entrepreneurships. In doing so, we will see more economic clout in the deaf community.”

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, November 2001.

I never really got to know the Julius Wiggins of Silent News fame. When I first met him in the summer of 2000, he was already in the advanced stages of his illness. Harriet faithfully brought him to the office on a daily basis, and he had a big smile for anyone that walked into the Silent News office. He was always happy to see us. But I never knew him when he was agile and healthy.

Julius Wiggins is a name I have always known. The newspaper is older than me by a few years, so I’ve never known a life without Silent News. I grew up with the newspaper, and inadvertently the Wiggins name.

Now, in my second year with the newspaper, I have come to realize just how much of an effect Julius, and his wife Harriet, truly has had on the deaf community. Every event I went to, every gathering I attended in the past year – there were people coming up to me and asking, “How is Julius?” And they weren’t asking just for the sake of conversation. They truly cared about Julius.

When Julius had the idea of forming Silent News, he didn’t do it to make money. He didn’t do it to create a legacy. He didn’t do it for anything except to try and make communication between deaf people easier.

Back in those days, newspapers consisted of social gossip and event information. He simply wanted a better way for people all over the country to learn about each other’s lives, milestones and happenings. The first issue of Jan. 1, 1969, said, “The Silent News came into existence because of the deaf’s demanding needs of a newspaper in New York City and other cities as well.” A subscription cost $3.60 per year back then.

Nearly 34 years later, communication in the world is at its most powerful, yet the newspaper is still a valuable commodity.

Over the past decade, the deaf publications world has seen a lot of muckraking, a lot of sensationalism, and a lot of deep, embittered politics behind the scenes. Silent News has been directly hit by these incidents and publications. I even worked as a writer for one of the publications that helped “hurt” Silent News indirectly (although not deliberately). Today, most of the mudslinging between publications has calmed down – and hopefully, the deaf newspaper business has cleaned up a little.

I’ve listened to story after story about the experiences of those first years, the peak years, and the recent years before I came on board. And one thing was consistent in these stories that I heard: Julius wanted nothing but the best for our community.

I’ve listened to Harriet and his daughter tell me about the years of struggle when all the other deaf publications were battling mighty and proud. They’ve told me of the sweat and toil of the first years, the determination of the later years, and now the years of pure love and loyalty to the newspaper today. “How can we give up the dream Julius had?” Adele is always saying to me in the office. “The newspaper is in our blood.”

We find ourselves transported back to Jan. 1, 1969, when the newspaper was founded solely to communicate with each other, not for profit or for reputation or for malice. Silent News has attempted to return to the days of honest, clean journalism. While the newspaper is still far from perfect, we’re very proud of how far we’ve come in a year.

We do this simply because we want to ensure that we continue Julius’s dream of bringing the deaf community together through news.

We hope to help this dream go on by adding a youth section – introducing our deaf youth to the world of deaf and hard of hearing achievements, events and people. One of these children– like I did when I was in high school – might read Silent News and want to become a writer, or even editor in chief, some day.

People have often asked me why I don’t work for a hearing newspaper, or why I choose to stick with a deaf publication. I tell them that working for a deaf newspaper, for me personally, holds far more prestige than a hearing publication. How can I not give back to the community that gave me what I have today? Without the deaf community, I wouldn’t be who I am. My way of giving back is to work for the very publication that brought me here today.

Perhaps I did know the real Julius Wiggins, after all.

Copyrighted material. This article may not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

Originally appeared in Silent News, November 2001.

After battling nine other teams in the tournament, Greater Tampa Bay and Colorado Springs Thundersnow came face to face in the National Softball Association of the Deaf (NSAD) championship game. If Tampa Bay lost this game, the two teams would be forced to play a second game in the double-elimination bracket tournament.

Colorado got off to a fast start in the second inning, going 7-0. Their strong defense held Tampa to a no-scoring game, winning 10-0. The second game was equally powerful for Colorado, though Tampa Bay fared slightly better offensively.

Tampa Bay immediately got up 3-1 over Colorado in the first inning. However, by the second inning, Colorado, a team full of experienced player such as Alicia Flores, Angela Kuehn and Ruth Lummer, was back on top, 9-3. Donna Osborne was deliberately walked by Tampa Bay, and the bases were loaded. Colette Stoker then hit a drive into outfield and brought two Colorado runners home for a score of 11-3.

Colorado’s Jamie Fisher, who was pitching and batting with an obvious leg injury, remained steadfast in her mission for the championship. The Tampa Bay players, consistent in their hitting fly balls, were showing fatigue in their hitting, and Colorado took advantage of this. By the top of the third inning, Colorado’s Alicia Flores, who played for Gallaudet’s softball team, was able to run home thanks to a hit by Michelle Malcolm, a Deaflympian in the sport of team handball and the tournament’s most valuable player. The score now stood at 13-5.

In the bottom, Tampa Bay had some luck with McKee’s hit to right field that brought four runners home, bringing the score up to 13-9. By the fourth inning, McKee had also run home, and Tampa Bay was down 13-10.

The game remained somewhat sleepy with no runs in the fifth and sixth innings, until Fisher hit to right field, running to third base and bringing Flores home for a score of 16-10. Kuehn was then intentionally walked for the second time by Tampa Bay, and due to a Tampa Bay catcher error, Lummer, also a Deaflympian team handball player, brought the score up to 18-10. The championship was sealed with easy outs, and a tired Tampa Bay team congratulated the buoyant Colorado women.

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Originally appeared in Silent News, November 2001.

James Hall was ordained a Catholic priest in Aurora, Ill. on June 9. He becomes the seventh deaf priest in the U.S.to be ordained.

Hall, who grew up in the Warren/Niles area near Youngstown in Ohio became deaf at nine years old from spinal meningitis. After attending a few mainstreamed programs, Hall made his way to the St. Rita School for the Deaf in Cincinnati. Upon graduation, he attended Youngstown College (now University) for two years. “I did not receive a degree in anything. My goal at that time was to be a mechanical engineer, but as time went on, I was unable to finish,” Hall said, citing the lack of interpreters as a reason. “I had no notetakers or tutors to help me.”

In January 1972, Hall decided to enter the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart as a Religious Brother. “In 1978, I began to take an interest in a different way of life, and began my studies to become a priest with the permission of the order,” Hall says. “It was just a special feeling I had where I feel I could reach out and touch the lives of other deaf people in a special way.”

He then entered Gallaudet College (now University), finishing up with a degree in psychology. Next was the Washington Theology Union in Silver Spring, Md., to begin his studies for the priesthood. However, he decided to take a leave to see if the priesthood was truly for him. “Through much spiritual guidance I was encouraged to return and complete my studies and become a priest,” Hall says. “I became involved in Deaf Ministry in the Dicoese of Gary, Ind. At the age of 59, I again developed an interest in the priesthood and began my studies again, this time at the Catholic Theology Union in Chicago.”

Hall completed his certification in pastoral studies, and began his preparation. “I became a priest at the age of 64 and am enjoying the fruits of my ministry.”

Today, Hall is in the Aurora, Ill. area, and working at five dioceses in the area. “Being ordained as a priest became a great joy for me as I reach out touch the lives of others in a special way, which includes bringing the word of God into their life and helping them to live His word,” Hall states. “I feel a special blessing to be part of this ministry.”

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