Chapter 7: Changing Love

Moira became my goal, and my concern.

Jason was my pal. We hung out together. He had his own computer, with a headset instead of speakers, so he could play games without disturbing me. His small computer desk was in my office, so we spent lots of time together, in harmony and companionship, though we were doing different things. We spent a lot of active time, too. We'd play basketball and a little baseball. It's a great thing to teach your son to hit a thrown ball with a bat. Catching a ball that takes a bad hop is a worthwhile skill, too.

But Moira was special.

We found that there was no evidence of damage, or 'missing parts' that would explain her blindness. Her eyes seemed normal and there was no sign that the optic nerve bundle wasn't functional. Nor could anyone find any brain damage or malfunction that might explain it. But 'hysterical blindness' was ruled out, since she was profoundly blind and had been from birth. Several doctors-especially those in research-wanted to insert electrodes here or there, to see if nerve signals were getting through.

We were not desperate, merely curious. Moira didn't feel that she lacked anything, by her inability to see. There were no invasive tests! Doctors who wanted to do them were not allowed to examine her again. No exceptions. No appeals.

We had investigated the schools in the surrounding communities and selected an upscale private school nearby. We felt that, with Moira's special needs, we'd have more input into her program if we were paying for her education.

Jason fit anywhere and was no problem-beyond the normal boyhood battles. He had few of those, being a kid who, though larger than the other boys in his class, made friends easily. Most of the other kids preferred to be his friend.

Moira was the same, but for somewhat different reasons. I think it was magic. Hanna says she has exceptionally well-developed social skills.

Computer technology had finally progressed to the point that, if one wanted, it could all be controlled by voice. Moira had her own computer... that she spoke to and that conversed with her. She'd never had a visual component to her life, so was able to carry on adequately without it.

When she started school, she attended regular classes. She'd already learned Braille and the school provided the Braille version of all the normal books. She couldn't see the blackboard. And she couldn't do most art projects. But she blossomed when she was introduced to modeling clay. While the others used crayons, or construction paper and glue, she made small sculptures-and became very good at it.

Hanna arranged for a 'blind tutor' to coach the entire family. This lady, not blind herself, taught us many useful techniques that we used to make Moira's life more 'normal.' For example, when she wanted to run, people could be at various places and call to her in turn-'Here, Moira. Here, Moira..." When she reached that person, they could call, 'run left'. Then the next person would call to her. Moira ran as much as any kid-and loved it. The kids in her school were taught the technique and enjoyed helping her with it as much as she loved the running.

I don't know if it was because of her blindness or just because she was female. Moira developed into a girl who was extraordinarily gifted at making friends and at having friends who wanted to help her.

Her teachers told us the kids often formed a large ring and called Moira, so she could run around them, laughing merrily the whole time. And they would help her find her coat and overshoes-or read to her what the teacher had written on the blackboard.

It was not a one-way deal. Moira cheerfully helped her friends understand concepts the teachers were trying to get across. She patiently helped with spelling and arithmetic, too. Those of her friends who visited the house were amazed at her voice-controlled computer and enjoyed playing games, listening to music, and chattering about all the things that interest young girls.

Of course, they were all happy to eat the abundant supply of cookies and milk that Hanna kept in the kitchen.

Without football, I needed something to do. After all, I was still in my 20s, and had enough income to not worry about anything, as long as our lifestyle didn't get extravagant.

Working on my discus throwing technique didn't consume that much of my time. I considered it a hobby, anyway.

Hanna felt the same. She'd 'outgrown' the high jump and could only vault at competitive heights-and she felt that she'd only want to compete for another year or two at most.

When we were asked to join the USOC Athletes' Advisory Committee, we felt it would be a chance to help our fellow competitors and spend some of our time productively.

Our instincts were right; we were able to represent other track and field athletes to the national Olympic Committee. And we were able to cause some improvements in conditions for the athletes. Especially, we were proud of being able to simplify the rules for NCAA and AAU athletes who were-deservedly-paid for appearing at 'open' track meets.

The real authority, though, was the Olympic Committee itself. When our first two-year terms were about to expire, we weren't very interested in continuing. After a lot of cajolery, and the promise of seats on USOC when we stopped competing, we agreed to stay on.

Hanna retired from competition the following year, and was promptly named a USOC member.

I still had several years of competition in me, I thought, and continued as I was.

Neither of us was especially fond of the International Olympic Committee. It seemed to us to be a throwback to the days of European aristocracy-and pure greed, on the part of many members.

The former IOC Chairman, in my opinion, was much too old to keep a grip on the organization-the only thing I thought he had a grip on was his perks. And his autocratic ways-more than once I saw him bark out a 'decision' on an issue about which he hadn't a clue-caused more confusion and turmoil than leadership. In spite of repeated scandals about IOC members being bribed to vote for this city or that as Olympic sites, he refused to concede that there might even be an issue. A couple of members were forced to resign, but not by the Chairman-it took a strong and vocal majority of the committee to get it done.

Further, the attitude seemed to be that the needs or goals of individual athletes were irrelevant. After all, there would always be plenty of athletes clamoring for a chance at the Olympic Games.

We recognized that the rest of the world would not necessarily conform to American standards. But we were appalled by the indifference to the corruption and to the athletes who were the basis of it all.

Hanna decided to try to do something about it.

The new IOC Chairman was a much more reasonable and modern man. He fully recognized that the image of the organization was sadly tarnished. And was well aware that not many cities were interested in hosting the games any more-it was a tremendously expensive undertaking, and couldn't be done without substantial government help. Further, the very expensive facilities would not pay for themselves after the Games, in many locations; Nagano, Japan, being a prime example.

A woman who was fun to be around, Hanna was immensely popular with the public and the media. Most of the USOC members were very fond of her, too. The meetings and dinners and private conversations that went with the job were a lot more fun with Hanna involved.

So when she quietly started lobbying for better accountability in the IOC-and more compliance with normal international rules and practices, eliminating the ability of minor officials from third world countries to change things at the last minute to benefit athletes from their part of the world-her peers took it seriously. Many of them took the attitude, "If it makes Hanna happy..."

Naturally, this did not make Hanna-or me, by association-especially popular with the international officials from "developing" countries. But I found that, most everywhere in the world, the athletes and the officials on the ground working the meets, approved.