You had to be
there.
The place was Hanover on a hot and humid
evening in late June. The annual back-yard steak-fry had sated
Masons from across the province. Two hundred were packed into the
lodge room in the converted country schoolhouse, including six
Past Grand Masters. Those who couldn't be seated were watching on
video screens in a much cooler basement.
The Grand Master was about to make a
speech. Everyone knew what to expect. The lodges in Ontario had
contributed almost $1,900,000 for the Help-to-Hear project and the
expectation was that, with just a little push, the fund could top
the goal of $2 million. He'd tell us about it.
Imagine. Every newborn in Ontario assured
a legacy of hearing thanks to neo-natal auditory tests and high
tech.
But instead of speaking, the Grand Master
deferred to a brother at the back of the room, Darryl Hannah, a
past Master of Hanover No. 432 and current Director of Ceremonies.
"I was all set to give a speech," said Bob McKibbon, "until I
talked with Brother Hannah at supper. He has something to tell you
that will bring joy to your hearts."
Digressing briefly, I recall a lesson
from when I was a young reporter. I'd handed my report of a tragic
accident to the Editor of the Guelph Daily Mercury. "The uncle," I
had written,"…had cried like a baby".
My editor tore a strip off me. "A baby
cries because he's wet or hungry. A man's tears come from
unbearable sorrow, from emotions beyond words, or from unbounded
joy. A man does not cry like a baby."
The visit to Hanover was one of great
emotion.
Darryl Hannah arose in the West, tried to
speak, and lost his voice. He was asked to come to the East. Even
from there, his voice broke several times and he was handed
kleenex to dry his face.
Darryl's son, Joshua, was born "hearing
impaired". In another age he would have been called "deaf".
Lacking one major sensory input, his education would have started
later ---much later--- and probably resulted in his being taught
in a residential school, separated from his siblings, his parents
and his friends.
But Joshua was tested at birth. The
problem was made known.
Back in 1978 the Ontario Masons initiated
another child-help program called HELP (Hearing for Every Living
Person) through the Masonic Foundation. It made cochlear implants
available, artificial pickups implanted in the ear and hot-wired
to nerves, not unlike those super-ears of the "Six Million Dollar
Man" or the "Bionic Woman." Joshua was slated for one such implant
when he was old enough.
Darryl Hannah, a loving father, led us
through the process. Infant Joshua underwent many tests before it
was determined, at the age of 18 months, that he would benefit and
that he was ready. The procedure isn't a speedy process where the
device is implanted and just plugged in. The levels of sound had
to be predetermined to avoid confusing Joshua with a cacophony
shattering his world of silence. Loud sounds can actually cause
pain, and Joshua had no way of shouting "Stop!".
The big event was in London's Children's
Hospital/Royal Vic.
"We are ready to turn it on now," the
medical team told Darryl and his wife Leanne, "and we'll be quiet.
The first sounds he hears will be the voice of his mother and
father."
"The first sound Joshua heard," recalls
Daryl, "was the sound of his own name. I said "Joshua", and we saw
a new light in Joshua's eyes. He had heard."
A few more kneenex were needed in the
crowd.
You had to be there.
-end-
*Mordecai Richler..."Joshua Then and Now"