The Monday After: Blind Canton woman "saw" to a life that was full

Fifty years ago this month, a blind girl from Canton found out she could see pretty clearly.

Barbara Ellen Fohl, a graduate of a high school in Columbus who had come to the Canton area with her family and was a senior at what was Mount Union College in 1974, used her heart and her ears instead of her eyes to watch over those who sought assistance at Eastern Stark County Mental Health Center in Alliance.

"You'd be surprised what a person can 'see' and do working for a mental health clinic," she said in an interview for an article published in The Canton Repository on May 12, 1974.

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She found that by listening she could "see" some of the problems of clients at the center.

"It's kind of hard to know whether you're helping," she admitted. "One day a male patient opened up and told me all about his past history. I felt good that day."

Her blindness didn't stop the daughter of Roberta Ebright Fohl and C. Gordon Fohl of Canton from working 12 to 15 hours a week at the center, part of a course offering practical experience in efforts to earn her sociology degree.

"One woman at the center told me I was doing okay for what I can do," Fohl told the newspaper's reporter. "She kept telling me that every few minutes, until I told her she'd be surprised at what a blind person really can do."

Fohl remained an advocate for the capabilities of blind individuals, as well as a real-life illustration of the accomplishments of the blind community, until her death in 2015.

She worked for three decades as a social worker for the Ashtabula County Department of Human Services and served years in positions of authority and guidance – as a deacon, ruling elder and member of the board of trustees – at First Presbyterian Church of Ashtabula.

"Barb served her community as a member of the board of trustees of Goodwill Industries of Ashtabula," her obituary said nine years ago. "She was an officer at both the state and county level of the National Federation of the Blind, most recently serving as second vice president of the Ohio chapter."

For fun, Fohl sang in multiple choral groups – her church choir, the Messiah Chorus, Sweet Adelines Chorus, Ashtabula County Choral Music Society Chorale, and a group called Final Cut.

Photographs show her cross-country skiing with a guide in California. Memories recall her riding with a companion on a bicycle built for two.

"She was a positive person who didn't let what others thought was a disability stop her from doing what she wanted," said her sister, Virginia Rainey of State College, Pennsylvania. "People knew her in the community. They knew her, liked her and respected her. For a person to be known and loved by so many people is a tribute to the kind of person she was."

Barb was born with blindness

Fohl never knew what it was like to live in a world that she could see through her eyes. Still, she never let her blindness bring her down.

"She was born three months premature," explained her sister, noting that her early birth in Glens Falls, New York, led to her blindness. "She never had sight. She didn't know what she was missing. But she knew what she had to do to accomplish what she wanted."

Linda Long of North Canton, the widow of the longtime pastor of the Presbyterian church Fohl attended in Ashtabula, said "Barb was wonderful; she was amazing," and noted that Fohl knew everyone in the church congregation by the sound of their voices.

"We'd be in a store and see her and call out 'Hi Barb," and she would call us by name. She knew our voices and knew who we were."

Her skills at adapting to her blindness were astounding, Long said.

"I taught a Bible meeting, and if there was a passage to be read with a lot of names in it, she would read it and not make one mistake. She was that good at reading Braille," said Long, noting that Fohl's memory was equally remarkable. "She could go into the sanctuary without her (guide) dog and walk around by herself."

That guide dog, Mickey, was as welcome in the church as Fohl.

"She would come into a Bible study and sit down, and Mickey would lie down beside her," remembered Long. "But, he would move over, and move over a little more, until he was near someone who would pet him. And she let him. That was the only place he was allowed to do that. He was our dog as well as hers."

Fohl's gifts served others

Fohl's mother had impressed upon her daughter that blind people "had to have a sense of where the walls were." Fohl relished telling a story about how her mom had allowed her to ride a tricycle in the family's garage so she could indeed run into walls and learn where they were.

Still, when she finally emerged from that garage, she lived her life as if the concept of walls was foreign to her. And that "world without walls" was a philosophy she passed on to others.

"She loved to be around people, loved to talk, and loved to learn," Long said.

Rainey said that her sibling, a survivor of breast cancer, gave back to her community by serving a mentor to others going through treatment of the disease.

"She also was a voice on a (suicide prevention) crisis hotline one night a month," said Rainey. "She was a good listener. She had to be a good listener to survive being blind. And she used her gift for others."

Sometimes, Fohl's gifts and learned abilities were placed on display, for others to learn from, in unconventional ways.

"I did a handicapped retreat for senior high kids and asked Barb to speak," recalled Long. "They asked her all sorts of questions. How did she pick out her clothes? When she was cooking, how did she tell the difference between salt and sugar? She answered all the questions graciously.

"Then I gave them all an orange – Barb, too – and blindfolded them and told them to peel it but keep the peels on their laps. When they were done, Barb was the only one who had all the peels on her lap and the only one that didn't have juice on her hands. Everyone else was surrounded by peels on the floor and they looked as if they had bathed in orange juice."

Fohl's passing was sudden

Death took Fohl at a relatively young age, 64.

She had retired early to be able to spend more time with her mother, who was living in Stark County until she died in 2014. Barbara Fohl's passing the following year, in June 2015, was unexpected, her sister said.

Response to Fohl's passing released an outpouring of caring and respect.

Because of her love of singing – she was inducted into the Ashtabula County Choral Music Society's Hall of Fame for lifetime achievement – many of her close friends were from the choral groups with which she practiced and performed. The director of the Choral Music Society brought members to Fohl's funeral service in Ashtabula to sing "How Can I Keep From Singing."

At her memorial service, an official for the Department of Human Services for which she previously worked told of an appropriate tribute being paid to Fohl.

"She did many things at her job, but she ended up managing a service offering rides for people to appointments at doctor's offices," her sister explained. "When she died, they told me they had made a poster advertising that service. It was a cartoon picture of a bus and the driver was my sister. She who couldn't see was providing transportation. It gave us all a feel-good laugh."

That "feel-good" humor was appropriate. Fohl often made others feel good about themselves.

"Hers was a life that gave her joy," said her sister, "but it gave others joy, as well, because she was a giver rather than a taker."

Reach Gary at gary.brown.rep@gmail.com. On Twitter: @gbrownREP.

This article originally appeared on The Alliance Review: Blind from birth, Barbara Ellen Fohl lived without barriers