By Joe Cobb Crawford
Episode 1
Tommy was not blind from birth. He’d lost his vision on his 10th birthday. Something tragically went wrong with the party sparklers and they damaged his eyes. Surgeries failed.
Tommy’s dad was a CEO but he was MIA in the child raising department. He’d often employ the D-Square business principle—delegate and disappear, especially after the accident. Tommy’s step-mother, Marie, tried filling the void. She smothered him with attention as he struggled into his pimple-faced, breaking voiced pre-teenage years. As he grew into a teen Tommy revealed only two emotional states: rage and depression.
To shake the problem and maybe break the monotony of Georgia’s hot summer Marie planned a trip to North Georgia. She had an early retired brother, Dino, and his wife Lea who lived there. The little Mayberryish community was a quiet refuge from noisy big city’s insanity. Dino and Lea owned a farm there. Dino jokingly referred to the place as “Jungle Woods, Georgia.”
Little farming was done on the Jungle Woods hobby farm. Animals grazed and roamed its sloped Serengeti pastures and bordering woods. The farm more resembled a zoo than a farm. Peacocks, donkeys, llamas, guineas, Zebras, long horn cows and a diversity of exotic animals called Jungle Woods their home.
Day 1
On Day 1 of their visit, a monsoon sloshed through north Georgia. All relatives stayed inside the farmhouse. They talked and caught up on what was going on in their lives … All except Tommy’s dad. He retreated to his bedroom. He read old copies of The Wall Street Journal he’d brought with him. Tommy sat speechless with the family—depressed.
Day 2
Tommy’s lack of dialogue didn’t go without notice by Dino. At sunup he awoke Tommy with: “Come with me, Tommy. I need you to help me check on the pasture fences. We’ll take my 4-wheeler. You okay with that?
Tommy rolled over in his bed, his feet met the hardwood floor and he said “Yeah, whatever. I got nothing else to do.”
Together the two traveled on the 4-wheeler to the pasture’s gate. Neither said a word as they traveled. Dino stopped the 4-wheeler when they reached a farm animal gate. He dismounted, opened the gate and yelled back at Tommy, “Okay Tommy. You’re driving.”
“What are you crazy? Or maybe you’re blind like me! Can’t you see I can’t see! And I … I don’t know how to drive this 4-wheeler!” Tommy said with an inquisitive, self-questioning tone.
“Sure you can. Just do exactly as I tell you. You do know your left from your right don’t cha, Tommy? Just cut the wheels when I tell you to, okay?”
Nervously, Tommy took the driver’s seat position. He followed Dino’s instructions to a Tee. The grazing cows stopped at mid-chomp and looked on at the two converse on the 4-wheeler. Sensing danger, the cattle skedaddled. In a stampede they galloped down the hillside and jumped in the water pond. The pecking peacocks and guineas squawked and went airborne when Tommy revved up the engine. Dino instructed Tommy: “Okay, ease off the gas, engage the clutch with your left foot and let’s go across the field.”
Tommy was hesitant, lacking confidence at first, and the 4-wheeler’s trip was not without fits and starts. Circular paths and spinouts tread marks etched the soaked vacated pasture. But Tommy was safe, traveled slowly, and followed each instruction. Soon his path was straight and near invisible.
Dino instructed again: “Okay chauffeur, goose the gas a little with your right hand. We gotta make haste to the other side of this field and back home before lunchtime.” Tommy graciously grinned, goosed the gas and sped straight away across the field as the wind whistled by his helmet’s ear holes.
They soon approached the other side. Dino instructed Tommy “slow down, engage the clutch and hit the brakes. Bring us to a stop. Then kill the engine with that key switch there near your right hand. I need to check that fence ahead. Then we’ll motor on back over to the gate.”
After Dino completed the job Tommy was instructed “crank the engine, turn around and drive us back to the gate. Dino patiently directed Tommy’s each move to complete their journey.
As the 4-Wheeler roared up the field in the noonday sun, Dino yelled to Tommy, “Hey kid. Stop that smiling. You’ll get dead bug marks on your pearly whites.” Tommy smiled even more.
When they got back to the farm house, not a word was mentioned to anyone about what blind boy Tommy saw that morning.
Day 3
After breakfast the next morning, Tommy was surprised when Dino knocked at his door. He cracked it opened and said, “Okay, you’re going with me today, Tommy. I’ve already cleared it with your dad. Let’s go.”
“Where are you taking me, Uncle Dino? Are we going 4-wheeling again?” Tommy blurted with a beaming smile and gleeful voice.
“Fuggetaboutit, kid. Trust me. You’ll have fun. Come on. Let’s blow this place.”
Together they traveled up Old Highway 441 to a Firing Range. Dino rented two rifles, ear muffs for each and bought some ammo. He helped Tommy fit his muffs as they marched toward the shooting stand. There Dino loaded one rifle and set its safety—Tommy’s. The other empty gun was laid on the ground.
Dino then said, “Okay, Tommy. Take hold of this rifle and pull its stock up tight against your right shoulder. … Relax kid. Listen up. Just follow my instructions. I’ll point you toward the target. It’s out ahead in this open field. I’ll point you toward the target out there and tell you when to pull the firing trigger.” Dino lined up Tommy with the target ahead. He released the rifle’s safety and said “Fire. Pull the trigger.”
Tommy did exactly as told.
Only a few aim adjustments were made before Tommy’s single shots were hitting the straw target. With a few more adjustments Tommy had hit the bull’s eye and Dino said, “Dang kid! You’re a pretty good shot. You hit the Bull’s eye. That’s near perfect shooting, paesan!”
Tommy became exited. Without moving, he fired three more quick rounds, each hitting the Bulls eye.
The Firing Range manager quickly appeared at Dino’s side. He chastised him, “Can’t you read the sign overhead? It clearly says ‘No repeated rapid fire shots at the target.’ You’ve destroyed the target. Hand over those rifles to me. Now, you two nut cases get out of here and don’t come back!”
Dino responded in his best hybrid Georgia-New Jersey accent, Fuggetaboutit! Tommy here is blind and I’m from Georgia. I can’t read!” Dino then smiled big, handing over the rifles and ear muffs to the range manager.
Without words said Dino led Tommy from the Firing Range’s shooting stand back to his car. Car doors slammed. Silence roared. Sensing safety, security and silliness they both burst into laughter.
Still laughing uncontrollably they pulled out of the Firing Range’s parking lot on to Old Highway 441. They traveled to the Hollywood Tastee Freeze. Tommy in tow, Dino and Tommy entered. With demeanors serious as a heart attack, Dino placed their order. Then without words exchanged, simultaneous and unabashed laughter erupted.
Each laughed loud while enjoying a Banana Split treat. Two tables over solemn customers sat with sour twisted faces. They silently stared at Tommy and Dino. They could not see what the blind boy Tommy saw.