Page 280 - The Exceptional Harley Fetterman

JUDY K JOHNSON

After church services, the author and her family paused outside the
church lobby enjoying the warm sunshine and the pleasure of actually
being outdoors for a moment with Blake—a new experience. Harley,
a youngster walking alone with his white cane, approached to greet
them. He introduced himself and they cheerfully responded with their
own introductions. Already an advocate for blind kids, Harley had
heard about the new “blind” baby and wanted to speak with the
family. He spoke pleasantly about his own blindness and how he
didn't let it limit what he wanted to do with his life. Just a minute or
two later, Harley's mom, Beth, beeped her car horn as she drove up.
Harley waved goodbye as he confidently walked directly towards his
family car sweeping his white cane casually from side to side. The
author noticed Harley wearing the biggest, most confident grin ever
seen. After he was gone, the author paused for a moment totally
impressed with Harley and feeling enlightened by his viewpoint about
not letting blindness slow anyone down. His message was a real gift
adorned with long lasting reflection and happiness.
What really caused that day to be remembered as pleasantly sunny
and warm was actually Harley's sincere smile and his happy,
reassuring, teasing voice calling back at Blake's family, “See you later,
hmm,” as he moved along his way with conviction.

As years went by, the author occasionally saw Harley from a
distance when she visited family in Austin. She kept up with news of
his advancing struggle with cancer. Upon hearing the sad, sad news of
his passing, she made that journey alongside an immense fraternity of
Harley's friends and loved ones to his funeral services. As she became
aware of the multitude of mourners with white canes in procession to
the front of the chapel to review Harley's collection of personal items,
her heart began forming the beginning of a resolution she would
clearly identify by the end of the grief-laden services. After waiting in
a long line to express condolences to Beth, she was finally able to
reach out to lightly touch her shoulder. At this moment, the author felt
and clearly identified an immense duty she felt compelled to fulfill in
the future—when the time was right.
Shortly after the first anniversary of that saddest of all funeral
services, the author felt the timing was right for that duty—to
document Harley's life in biography. A biography that would put
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