One question I get during the “q&a” after some of my talks has to do with colors. You know, whether or not I still remember them.

I do.

I will admit, though — There are some new fashion colors I have trouble coordinating. Teal, for example. Terra cotta. Chartreuse. When in doubt, I Pair them with black.

One color combination I cannot get out of my head ( much as I might like to) is orange and blue. I graduated from the University of Illinois. I can safely say that even a blind woman could have chosen better school colors.

But to quote the school fight song, I’m “loyal to you, Illinois.” I even bought myself a tangerine-colored skirt and top (I didn’t pair it with any blue, thank you very much) the year Illinois played in the final game of the NCAA basketball championships.
And of course I am especially loyal to my alma mater when it gives me a nice plug – I just received an issue of The Media I — a newsletter put out every month by the University of Illinois College of Media. What a fun surprise to hear my name mentioned in the alumni section.

Beth Finke ’81 JOURN, author of the book, “Hanni and Beth: Safe and Sound,” recently received an ASPCA Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award. Based on publisher nominations and presented each year by the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the awards are named for the founder of the ASPCA.
Henry Bergh was born in 1813, chartered the organization in 1866, and also spent time working to prevent child abuse. Finke is the 2007 winner in the Nonfiction
Companion Animals category.

Hanni and I leave for Anaheim a week from today to receive that award. My dress?A basic black number, to coordinate perfectly with Hanni’s shiny red manicured nails. We’ll be the belles of the ball.

This afternoon Hanni and I cabbed over to 1151 S. Wood St. in Chicago. Mike and I had only been married a year when I first visited that address in 1985. Back then it was called the Illinois Visually Handicapped Institute (IVHI). To put a positive spin on my absence, Mike & I anticipated it as being like camp. Braille Camp.

From my memoir, Long Time, No See

That fall, Mike drove me and my things to IVHI to begin my formal rehabilitation. It reminded me of being dropped off at a college dorm for the first time. Except I wasn’t going to school to learn new things so much as how to do without old things. Except now I was married and didn’t want to live away from home.
Except now I was blind.

I was at IVHI to learn to read Braille, travel with a white cane, accomplish daily living skills without being able to see. After Mike dropped me off, I was told I wouldn’t be able to leave IVHI unless accompanied by a sighted adult.

In my head I heard the clang of a cell door slamming behind me. It wasn’t Braille Camp; it was Braille Jail.

Things have changed at Braille Jail, thank goodness. For one, they took the word “handicapped” out of their name. The Illinois Visually Handicapped Institute is now called the Illinois Center for Rehabilitation.

Most people refer to the place as ICRE-Wood, which always makes me laugh – there is nothing close to “woods” at the Illinois Center for Rehabilitation and Education.

There is, however, a more open feel to the place now. Although ICRE was designed to be a facility for adults who have lost their sight, every summer they open their doors for two weeks to blind teenagers from all over the state. Kids with visual impairments don’t necessarily go to state schools for the blind like in the old days – they go to their neighborhood schools. And while it’s great having kids with disabilities included in schools with average kids, it sometimes means they miss out on other things they need to know. So every year “Summer in the City” brings kids to ICRE-Wood to spend the week with other teenagers who are blind.

College students serve as chaperones, and the teenagers attend classes during the day. They learn cooking skills, money management, orientation & mobility, technology, stuff like that. Every day a different adult with a vision impairment visits to talk about their careers – the job search, the obstacles, the victories. That’s where I come in – I go every year to talk about writing as a career.

It’s not all work and no play for Summer in the City, though. The teenagers go out on the town in the afternoon and the evenings to explore Chicago.
They visit Navy Pier, enjoy boat rides, take sailing lessons, shop downtown, attend a Shakespeare play, and get an “insider’s tour” of White Sox Park.

I horned in on the White Sox tour in 2005, the year the White Sox won the World Series. The radio piece I did about that tour won a couple of big-time journalism awards! That was just icing on the cake, really. The true reward of going to this real Braille Camp is, of course, meeting the teenagers. Like all other kids between 13 an 18, they are curious, dramatic, and sarcastic. And Funny! You don’t think there’s any chance they refer to their “Summer in the City” experience as Sex in the City, do you? Nah!!!!!

It was a thrill to be part of the 24th annual Printers Row Book Fair in Chicago over the weekend – I signed books at Sandmeyer’ s Bookstore on Saturday, then gave a formal presentation Sunday morning. It can make a person feel downright proud, living in a neighborhood that devotes an entire festival to books every year. When the fair was over last night, our neighbor Margaret joined Mike and me for our annual ritual. Each year we sit outside Hackney’s while the street is still closed to traffic. It’ s so quiet we can actually hear the glasses clink as we toast the end of another great book fair. I didn’t know it last night, but the celebrating wasn’t quite over after those toasts. A review of this year’ s Printers Row Book Fair in this morning’s Chicago Tribune features me, Beth Finke, along with the likes of baseball giant Billy Williams and best-selling author Scott Turow, as one of “the fair’s star attractions.”

Beth Finke Beth Finke’s fan club turned out to cheer on the woman teaching them how to write a journal and, evidently, how to live a full life. The South Loop resident makes it sound wry and funny as she recounts the loss of her vision in her mid-20s, learning to negotiate a new world of talking computers and Seeing Eye dogs; dealing with marital difficulties and becoming a mother; and translating her experiences into books and teaching. Finke has strung her experiences into a memoir, “Long Time No See” (University of Illinois Press), published in 2003 and based on the taped journals she started after losing her sight.

Finke’s latest book, written for children ages 4 to 10, is a beautifully illustrated story told from her Seeing Eye dog’s point of view. “Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound” (Blue Marlin Publications) has taken her into classrooms all over the area to meet with children and talk to them about assistance dogs and what it’s like to be blind. Finke’s journal-writing class meets weekly at the Chicago Cultural Center. If she presents events in her life like beads on a string, it’s only because she has plenty of experience examining each thought and finding a place for it. When you are overwhelmed by your own recollection, she advises her students, “Take it a chunk at a time.” —L.L.

WOWEE! whoever you are, “L.L.” – I love you. Looks like we may have to return to Hackney’ s for another toast!

Mike and I walked over to Burnham Harbor late this morning for an open house — the Judd Goldman Adaptive Sailing Program was offering free sailboat rides and grilled food to get the word out about what exactly they do.
What they do, exactly, is teach people with disabilities how to sail.

Truth is, I really didn’t need to go to the open house to learn about their adaptive sailing program. I already knew about it firsthand. I took some lessons a few years ago.

But hey, who can argue with free food and a sailboat ride? I also felt it was important for me to be there to support the program – you know, it can feel pretty pathetic to have an open house and then no one shows up.

When Mike and I arrived at the harbor, it was obvious I needn’t have worried about that. The place was packed! People in wheelchairs, with walkers, accompanied by guide dogs and service dogs – everyone was milling about, chatting, laughing, sharing stories. It surprised me how moving it was, just being with everyone there. Mike agreed. “It’s like a whole lot of people who might never have a chance to sail like this if they didn’t have a disability,” he said.

He’s right. I was one of those people, and it made me feel good.

In the end, I didn’t get to sail today –the line was too long. That didn’t matter. It was still worth the trip.

During our visit to Washington Irving Elementary School in Oak Park last week, we talked about Hanni being a “working dog.” A student piped up and asked, “What other jobs do dogs do?” The girl next to him said she knew that some dogs look for people who are lost. “Yes,” an adult on hand said. “Search and rescue dogs!” One student had read a book about sled dogs, another knew about police dogs, firehouse dogs.

Once the students had run out of ideas, I told them what I knew about hearing dogs and service dogs. “My friend Melanie is hard of hearing,” I said. “Her dog Pixie would jump into Melanie’s lap if the doorbell rang.” Their eyes got big. Don’t ask me how I knew this, I could just tell. “Oh!” I said with a laugh. “I forgot to tell you one thing.” Pixie was much smaller than Hanni, I reassured them. A collective sigh of relief swelled from the crowd.

Dogs help fetch things for people in wheelchairs, I told them. Dogs open doors for people who can’t use their hands very well. Some dogs even take the laundry out of a dryer for people who can’t reach in to do it themselves.

What I didn’t discuss with them, however, was some of the controversy surrounding service dogs. That very morning I had read a news story about an autism assistance dog who had been paired up with a four-year-old named Jayden Qualls. When Jayden showed up at his California preschool with his new autism assistance dog, they were denied access.

School officials said they need to determine if Houdini is a service dog or a companion dog. They also need more time to find out if the dog is warranted at the school and if so, how he fits into the flow. The Americans with Disabilities Act gives Jayden the right to have Houdini in school, Qualls said. Jayden’s parents bought Houdini for $13,000 from a nonprofit called Autism Services Dogs of America.

That $13,000 price tag startled me. Guide dogs can cost up to $50,000 to train, but the guide dog user is never charged that much. My first dog, Dora, cost me $150. Subsequent Seeing Eye dogs cost $50.

And though Jayden’s mom believes the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) gives Jayden the right to have Houdini in school, the jury is still out on that one. To qualify as a service animal under the ADA, a dog must be “partnered with a person with a disability and individually trained to do work or perform tasks for the benefit of that person.” Courts would have to decide whether Houdini performs tasks for Jayden or simply acts as Jayden’s companion.

However this all resolves, there is one last question just begging to be asked. Can a four-year-old take care of a dog? If not, Who cares for the dog while the dog is at school with the child? You have to be at least 16 years old to train with a Seeing Eye dog— the Seeing Eye believes working with a guide dog demands a certain amount of physical, mental, and emotional maturity. In simple terms, in order to work with a Seeing Eye dog, you have to be mature enough to take care of a dog.

All pretty complicated stuff, and a lot of grey area here. I guess I was feeling too lazy – and we were having too much fun – to bring this all up to the students at Washington Irving. I can tell you what the 5+ year olds in that classroom would have said about all this anyway. I mean, c’mon. Everyone knows four-year-olds are babies.