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When
Droozy was still in her teens she went to work in a factory. It was a night job
because she had to go to school during the day. The Edward W. Daniel Co. was not
a very big place; it only seemed so to young Droozy. All kinds of interesting
people worked there. There was Fat Anna, a very heavy woman who could hardly
speak English. She’d say “houseboss” instead of landlord, and would sing a
Czechoslovakian song over and over again which sounded like: “Poi, poi,
ptischek moi, kaak bom pilla, semse villa.” This song and the hum of the
machines almost put Droozy to sleep as she was assembling anchor shackles of
ships. There
was Polly, a seventeen year old Irish girl who was married to a soldier. Then
there was Joe Salamone, or Blind Joe as he was called by the other factory
workers. The men and women would make fun of him, especially the women. They
would tell him that an object was in front of him when there was nothing there,
or about something or someone that didn’t exist or didn’t happen. Droozy had
great pity for this unfortunate man who could only feel his way and grope slowly
along, shuffling cautiously as he walked with his cane tapping on the cement
floor in a rhythmic fashion. Droozy
liked Joe. She felt great pity for him. The poor man couldn’t see where he was
going, nor what folks looked like. He’d never be able to see the beautiful
colors of nature - the trees, grass, flowers, rainbows, clear streams surrounded
by hills, nor any of the those ordinary things that everyone was able to enjoy
by merely looking. The worst of all was that he needed to depend on others for
almost everything. He couldn’t cross the street without assistance, nor could
he tell how much money he had since he couldn’t distinguish a five dollar bill
from a one. Blind
Joe had inner beauty. Although he could not see he rarely complained. He would
tell Droozy war stories; stories about Italy; his life with his parents, when he
was a boy, and of many of his adventures. He was always willing to go wherever
Droozy would |
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