Robert Gumson has been writing memoir and poetry all his life, and at 69 years old he’s had a lifelong series of adventures living as a blind person.
In 2017 he retired from a 40 year career in the field of rehabilitation and disability rights. Bob lives in Albany with his wife Pat, has three daughters and five step-children. He’s a music enthusiast and guitarist who loves to attend live concerts. In addition to writing, he likes to cook, read, exercise, travel, and spend time with his family.
He’s a proud member of the Hudson River Memoir Writers Group. His story "Lighthouse Camp" is an excerpt from his 2021 memoir In Blind Sight: From Canarsie Brooklyn with Love, Music and Mischief.
Lighthouse Camp
By Robert Gumson
Lighthouse Camp for the Blind in Waretown, New Jersey, pumped my adrenaline from the moment I arrived.
The camp was set up for ease of access. Ropes guided campers from building to building and along a quarter-mile boardwalk. I quickly broke down the pecking order, with kids who had the highest partial vision holding rank over totally blind kids. In no time, we referred to ourselves as “partials” or “blinks” to describe our level of visual acuity.
At Camp Lighthouse my visual impairment was not a deficit. I’d already been emboldened by my full integration with sighted peers and exposure to a wide range of places and events that my often-open-minded family encouraged.
As the summer rolled on, my attention drifted to the opposite sex. Some of the African-American girls were fast and talked openly about sex. The Puerto Rican girls were soft spoken and demure. Two friends, Lilly and Alice, were always together and alike except, as our sighted counselors were quick to describe, Alice was round and squat and Lilly was shapely with waist-length black hair. Her voice rang with mischievous banter. She would hear me come along and tease me by singing sweetly, “I want to be Bobby’s girl,” the words from a Top 10 song on the pop charts.
“Hey pendejo!” Lilly would exclaim. Alice would respond in rapid-fire Spanish jingo-lingo.
What are you gals saying?” I asked with a smile in my voice, enchanted by their giggles but knowing Lilly had just, in Spanish slang, called me an asshole.
Lilly and Alice seemed to have days when their self-consciousness got the better of them. They would saunter down the boardwalk to the beach during group swim in light summer dresses instead of bathing suits. I sensed Lilly’s body, which I had only touched in playful ways while wrestling over a towel or bumping up against her on a bus seat.
On one of those dog days of summer, Lilly and Alice came down to the beach. The partials with the most sight commented on their dresses and threatened to throw them in the water because they looked like they were roasting. Gus from my bunk whispered, “Maybe we all throw in Lilly, but Alice would take a football team to lift.”
Gus’s encouragement and Tyrone’s eagerness enticed me to join in. The three of us grabbed Lilly and swung her out over the boardwalk rail into the water. Her dress flowed up around her shoulders as she screamed with anger and shock on that sweltering day. A few hours later, after evening activities, Lilly kissed me sheepishly on the cheek when we bid the girls goodnight.
I stayed up into the morning hours with my mind racing, making plans for our life together. As I flipped stations on my Sinclair transistor radio, I landed on the Carpenters’ song that went, “On the day that you were born the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true.” I imagined those lyrics were written for Lilly.
I was delirious with anticipation of spending time with her. My thoughts circled round and round, tiring my mind to join my body and I fell asleep with those words of “Close to You” still fresh on my lips when I awoke with a rush into the new morning.
That afternoon, Lilly let me hold her hand when we walked on the boardwalk. We occasionally bumped each other, and I could feel her sun-warmed skin.
On another day, as we strolled along the same path. I put my arm around her. Her hair was blowing in the wind. I later took one of the paddle boats out into the lagoon and floated on the gentle waves dreaming about Lilly. She was going to be in my high school in the fall. There would be plenty of time to see her and maybe we’d even end up going out together.