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January 8, 2013

16th_Street_ShuttleThis morning, as I was boarding the downtown shuttle bus, I nearly collided with a blind man.

I was shuffling along in my morning-commute haze, following the person in front of me to get on the free shuttle bus. The early-morning Colorado sunshine was so bright that I didn’t see him until his cane was waving between my legs. I hopped over it just in time, but for a moment, I thought, “One of us is going to hit the pavement.”

In the rush of the moment, all I said was, “Sorry, sorry.” Once I was seated on the bus and the man was on his way down the sidewalk, I thought about how he might have wondered why I—the one with sight—was in his way. I thought about how I could have told him that I didn’t see him, because the sun was in my eyes. I thought about how, for that brief moment, he and I were in the same boat—er, shuttle bus.


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