CARE AND FEEDING OF THE LONG WHITE CANE:
Instructions in Cane Travel for Blind People
by
Thomas Bickford

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Author's Introduction

1. Getting Yourself Ready
Why Should I Use This Thing That Makes Me Look Blind?
Who Can Learn Cane Travel?

2. Getting the Cane Ready
How Long Should the Cane Be?
What Should the Cane Be Made Of?
How and Where Do You Hold the Cane?

3. Actually Walking Around
Walking with the Cane, Rule One
Planning Practice Routes
Going Up and Down Stairs
Listening to Traffic on the Street as a Guide Which Way Can Cars
Turn At Intersections?
Environmental Clues and Mental Maps
Expanding Your Horizons
One Dangerous Situation to Avoid
Crossing Big, Busy Intersections
What Goes Through My Mind While Walking Down a Street?
Walking with Someone Else
Walking Without a Cane

4. Public Transportation
Riding Buses and Streetcars
Subways, Escalators, and Elevators
Airports, Train and Bus stations

5. Times and Places without the Usual Landmarks
Grocery Stores
How Do You Walk in Ice, Snow, and Rain?
How About Suburban and Rural Roads with No Sidewalks?
Are There Roads and Intersections Unsafe for Any Pedestrian?
Picnics, Hiking, and Rough Country

6. Care and Feeding of the Long White Cane
Wash, Feed, and Dress Your Cane
Where Does the Cane Go When Not in Use?
Which Hand Do You Cane With?

7. Thoughts and Experiences on Cane Travel
How Long Does It Take to Learn Cane Travel?
Can a Blind Person Teach Cane Travel?
No One Has to Do Everything Perfectly
What About Other Travel Aids, Dogs and Electronics?

8. Songs
The White Cane Freedom March
Sources of Canes

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Acknowledgements
Virginia, Ann, and Barbara--my wife and daughters--make my life
and work worthwhile and possible. Here are my love and support.

Dr. Kenneth Jernigan has for me, as for so many others, been my
mentor and guide. He taught me what I know about blindness and
showed me that I could live a full life. He also gave me
comments on this booklet.

For their support, inspiration, and comments, I thank my friends
in the National Federation of the blind: Lloyd Rasmussen, Judy
Rasmussen, Debbie Brown, Arlene Hill, Sharon Duffy, and Mary
Ellen Gabias.

Any writer needs to find and gain access to relevant material,
and I was helped by Norma Belt, my reader, and Carol Strauss,
reference librarian.

I appreciate the discussions of shared experiences with Alan and
Billie Ruth Schlank. As a beginning author, I appreciate the
help in editing offered by Carl Knoettner. I thank my students
who taught me as I was teaching them.

About the Author

Thomas Bickford became blind at the age of seventeen from
glaucoma. Mr. Bickford started using a cane during the summer
between high school and college because his sight was fading
past the point of usefulness for travel. He learned some basic
cane techniques from a fellow college student. After college, he
attended the California Orientation Center for the Blind where,
among other things, he took formal instruction in cane travel
and met and joined the National Federation of the Blind. Mr.
Bickford holds his B.A. degree from Occidental College, Los
Angeles, and his M.A. degree from the University of Iowa, Iowa
City. For the past twenty-six years Mr. Bickford has worked for
the Library of Congress, National Library Service for the Blind
and Physically Handicapped in Washington, D.C. He makes his home
in suburban Maryland with his wife and two daughters. Since
people ask how much a blind traveler can see, Mr. Bickford
speaks of himself as "very totally blind."

TO

L. Q. "Larry" Lewis.

May he rest in peace because I walk with confidence.

Author's Introduction

This booklet contains the experience and observations I have
gained over many years as a cane traveler. My hope is to share
these experiences and observations with you. But the booklet
cannot go with you to say, "You are doing that right, but you
need to do it twenty-five or thirty times, not just two or three
times." It cannot say, "Swing your cane farther to the left, but
not quite so far to the right." The booklet cannot follow you
around the block to say, "Yes, this block really does have four
corners, but you were off course when you went around one of the
corners, and you didn't recognize it." The booklet cannot tell
you at which moment it is safe to cross a street, nor should it
try to tell you where particular obstacles are. To become an
independent traveler you must, and I believe you can, learn to
take care of yourself. The best thing this booklet can do for
you is to help you come to the time when you don't need it.

A skilled and knowledgeable teacher might help you learn that
combination of skills that make up cane travel, and the process
might go faster. Such a teacher could present new challenges at
the right time or help review persistent problems. I think of
this part of the process as "guided practice," and it was very
helpful to me. If you had such a teacher, you might not be
reading this booklet, so let's get on with the process.

In avoiding the discomfort of fearful feelings you also
eliminate the opportunity for courageous actions, ... and the
emotional maturity such action develops. If you happen to feel
fear, and who doesn't, don't duck it; use it.

Nancy Mairs. Carnal Acts. New York: HarperCollins, 1991.

We should use technology only where it's necessary. Throughout
my career in this field there have been flurries of interest in
mobility devices, and I've always felt that the ordinary cane,
which is technologically simple, is, in fact, very sophisticated
and sufficient for the job.

Raymond Kurzweil. Technology Producers Present Their Views: the
First Panel, Remarks by Raymond Kurzweil. The Braille Monitor,
January, 1992, p. 22.

CARE AND FEEDING OF THE LONG WHITE CANE:

Instructions in Cane Travel for Blind People

1. Getting Yourself Ready

Why Should I Use This Thing That Makes Me Look Blind?

One of the reasons that makes me qualified to ask this question
and offer an answer is that I asked myself this same question
when I got my first cane. When I asked the lady who sold me the
cane in the local agency for the blind, "How do I use it," her
answer was, "Any way you like."

I was in my last year of high school then, losing sight slowly
but steadily, and we all know how high school students hate to
look "different." As I walked with my parents across the street
back to the car, I pondered the more basic question, "Why use
this cane at all?"

Through the National Federation of the Blind I learned that
there are two major schools of thought about what it means to be
blind. One philosophy of blindness held by most people,
including many blind people, says that blindness is a disaster,
a catastrophe. I tell you frankly and up front, if you decide
that blindness is a disaster, it will be for you. It will
dominate and ruin your life. It will limit your thoughts, your
relationships and your achievements.

The NFB taught me the other philosophy of blindness, that
blindness is a physical characteristic, that with the right
approach and with the right kinds of training in dealing with
the situations you meet in your daily life, blindness can be
reduced to a matter of nuisance value. Some nuisances are bigger
than others, but blindness no longer has the power to dominate
and ruin your life. But this learning was a few years in the
future, so back to my late teens.

I don't know anyone who wants to be blind. I hated to admit that
I was blind, because it was a change in my self-image. I still
had that majority view of blindness, that it was a terrible
thing. I knew that the white cane identified me as a blind
person, and I only thought of this negative purpose.

The cane has a functional purpose, and that is what most of the
rest of this booklet is about. I started carrying the cane
because I was losing more sight and running into too many
things. I just held it out in front of me with an occasional
swing to the side to check for landmarks. A few months later, I
met a blind veteran who used a long cane and had good travel
skills. He taught me enough to keep me going in limited
situations.

Another way to think of the cane is as a magic wand. If you know
anything about magic tricks, you know that the magician must
practice for hours before going on stage for a performance. The
magic tricks that you perform with the cane, threading your way
past obstacles and finding your destination, come with hours of
practice. I will tell you how long it took me to learn, and it
was well worth the time and effort. Now to return to the
question of looking like a blind person.

The better I grew as a cane traveler, the less it bothered me to
carry a cane. The better I grew as a cane traveler, the less
people asked if I wanted help. The better I grew as a cane
traveler, the less it bothered me when people did offer help. I
knew where I was going, and it showed. I looked like a capable
person. A skillful blind traveler draws attention in the same
way that a beautiful woman or handsome man draws attention.
People notice, admire for a moment, and then go on their way as
you go on yours. But I would have found all that hard to believe
at the beginning.

There are times when it is appropriate for people to know that I
am blind. The cane is a silent explanation when I enter a bank
and ask where the end of the teller's line is. I give all my
attention to traffic when I cross streets, but I want the driver
approaching the corner to know that I am blind. I try not to
"wave the white cane" when I could do things for myself, because
that works against opening opportunities for achievement in
other areas of my life. But that is another chapter in the
philosophy of blindness.

Who Can Learn Cane Travel?

Let's turn away from cane travel for a moment and consider
swimming. To a non-swimmer or even an impartial observer who is
standing on the ground, the idea of swimming is foolish. They
might say, "Humans can't do that. We don't have air sacs along
our spines like fish. Our only air sacs expand and contract with
every breath."

Have you ever seen or been a non-swimmer in the water, the way
they thrash around? "Water is too thin. It will not support you,
and you will soon drown." Even if the observer sees someone else
swimming, the response is, "Maybe they can do it, but I
couldn't. And who would want to do that, anyway? I can go all
the places I want to go my own way."

The only way to learn to swim is to actually get into the water.
Yes, at first you do thrash around, and sink, and come up
coughing with your eyes and nose full of water. It takes a while
to learn how to relax the right way to let the water support
you. Much of the skill in swimming is in learning to cooperate
with the water and to use its properties to help you do what you
want to do.

In every society there are skills that people are expected to
learn and to perform well. Up until a hundred years ago native
American men and boys were expected to be skillful in the use of
the bow and arrow. Allowing for individual variations, I am sure
that most of them were skillful.

Since everyone eats, lots of people need to cook, and cooking is
a skill that many people can learn to a satisfactory degree.
There is another factor involved in cooking, just as there was
in the use of the bow and arrow: separation by gender. Women
were not expected to shoot the bow and arrow, and, even now,
many men are not expected to cook.

Early in my career I worked in a recreation center. Near closing
time one day I remarked to one of the boys that I had to go home
and cook my dinner. To him, that was a ridiculously funny idea,
and all he could say was, "Cooking is women's work!" It was no
good telling him that I lived alone and had no one to cook for
me. This time, at least, it had nothing to do with my blindness.

There is one thing that all American adults are expected to do,
and that is to drive a car. There are a few parallels between
any two forms of transportation: noticing surroundings, keeping
track of turns and distances, and planning your destination and
route. Everyone is expected to do these things. They are
basically the same if you are going from one room to another, or
from one city to another. The necessary skills are within
everyone's range of abilities. I base my opinion on the fact
that so many blind people do travel successfully. It takes
training and practice, but that is to be expected.

People who can see are used to looking at everything they do,
and so they think they have to look in order to know and to do
anything. The National Federation of the Blind is in the process
of teaching people that it is not so. We expect blind people to
learn how to do many things. We lead by example, and offer help
along the way. "Here is a cane. Tap it back and forth in front
of you as you walk." The cane, itself, is a simple thing. As you
stepMost of what you need to know is in your head, and that is
as good as it ever was."

There is one essential thing that the student must bring to cane
travel, and that is the willingness to try. Are there doubts? I
had many doubts. Are there fears? I had my share of fears. Is
there confusion? I had handfuls of confusion. Are there
questions? I had a list of questions which I asked at the wrong
times. But along with my doubts, fears, confusions and questions
I brought a willingness to try. Many times I repeated lessons,
but I kept trying. If you have come this far in the booklet, you
can make it the rest of the way. From here on, you need take
only a small step at a time, so give it a try.

2. Getting the Cane Ready

How Long Should the Cane Be?

I have slowly graduated from a cane that was 42 inches long to a
cane that is over 60 inches long. I added a few inches every few
years when I bought a new cane. I have not yet had a cane that
was too long. My chin-high cane is barely long enough for me,
now. There are blind people who use canes that reach their
eyebrows.

Once while I was teaching travel, it occurred to me that what
mattered was not where the cane came on your body, but where it
reached in front of you. The speed of your pace and the length
of your stride will make a difference. The cane needs to reach a
good two steps in front of where you are stepping. As a
practical matter, if you find yourself overstepping the cane,
dropping off curbs you didn't find, try a longer cane.

When you select a cane, start with one that comes into your
armpit. Walk up to a blank wall, swinging the cane from side to
side two inches wider than the width of your shoulders. As you
step left, tap right; as you step right, tap left. When the cane
hits the wall, complete the step you are making, and take one
more. Was there space for that next step? If so, you have enough
stopping distance. If not, add another two or four inches to the
cane and try again. I am not the only one who needs the length
of that second step for stopping distance.

Remember that not all obstacles are found at the distance of the
end of the cane. You find some things as the cane swings to the
side after the tip has passed them. If part of the obstacle is
above ground level, such as a chair or a car, part of the cane
will pass under it before making contact, and you will be glad
to have the added length. You may think that the longer the
cane, the more it will get tangled up in whatever is ahead of
you, but that can happen with any length of cane.

There is one other factor that I must consider for my cane: will
it fit in the family car? The answer is: "Yes, but I have to
work at it a bit." The way that is best for me is to bring the
handle end in first and push it back as far as possible between
the seat and the side of the car. I try to get it under the seat
belt anchor and as low as possible, where it won't trip back
seat passengers going in and out. The last thing is to make sure
the tip end is in the car and not sticking out between the door
and the frame. I am not the only person to destroy a cane that
way. I am afraid I have made the process sound harder than it
is. A couple of pushes and a pull get the cane in position, and
it takes less time than fastening a seat belt.

What Should the Cane Be Made Of?

I have used canes made of wood, aluminum tubing, solid
fiberglass, fiberglass tubing, and carbon fiber compound tubing.
Each material has different characteristics of strength, weight,
and flexibility. Each one sounds different as it strikes the
ground. I have not used wooden canes or canes with curved
handles since the 1950's. White support canes are available for
people who need a cane to lean on.

Aluminum tubing canes are relatively heavy and strong. They do
not break. If they are bent a little, they will straighten out.
With a little more pressure, they will stay bent; very few
people have the coordinated strength to return aluminum canes to
their original condition. Slightly bent canes may not look as
pretty as straight ones, but you can use them for a long time.

Solid fiberglass canes (called rigid because they have no
joints) are both strong and flexible, and I like that
combination of qualities. They weigh less than aluminum canes,
and more than the next two hollow canes. Solid fiberglass will
take quite a bend and still straighten. If they are bent past a
certain point, they will split into long splinters which are
dangerous to touch. The cane will probably get you home in that
condition, but beware the splinters.

Hollow fiberglass is lightweight and very easy to handle. It has
a nice bounce to it, but will only take a moderate bend without
breaking. That is, it may not withstand tripping someone. When
it breaks, hollow fiberglass tends to crush and fall apart very
soon.

Carbon fiber canes are fairly stiff and have only a little
bounce. They are light weight and easy to handle. Compared to
hollow fiberglass, the carbon fiber cane is somewhat stronger
and lasts a little longer after a break.

I do not know any cane that will withstand being caught in a car
door unscathed. I keep a spare cane at home.

Let us consider folding canes. Do not let yourself fall into the
trap of thinking you are hiding your blindness by using a
folding cane. Also, for at least the duration of the learning
stage, I strongly recommend a one-piece cane. There are many
blind people who use a folding cane all the time and find it
fully satisfactory. For several years I was one of them. The
previous section on the length of the cane should still be
considered. I often take my folding cane to church, restaurants,
theaters; places where it may not be as convenient to stow the
one-piece cane.

Many folding canes are made of aluminum tubing sections with
some kind of elastic in the middle to pull the sections
together. Each producer has his own variation on the way the
sections join, so you must make your own choice. Some canes are
made of concentric tubing that collapses each one into the next.
If you pull each section out firmly and give it a slight twist,
it should stay in position during your trip. Both fiberglass and
carbon fiber compound are available in this telescoping style.

How and Where Do You Hold the Cane?

The handle goes diagonally across my palm and rests on the
extended index finger. The other fingers curl around, and the
thumb points over the handle and down the cane. The palm is
vertical as when extended to shake hands. That is the classic
grip which I use most of the time. In close quarters I slide my
hand down the cane and narrow the swing. I may shift my grip and
hold the cane like a long pencil. You can't swing the cane much
in that position, but you don't want to swing it much because of
the crowd. In very close, slow-moving crowds such as in theater
lobbies or a line to board a bus, I may just hold the cane
diagonally across my body and slide the cane along in front of
my left foot. At other times I may shift my grip to ease fatigue
or for no special reason.

The firmness of the grip should be moderate, neither so tight
that you never let go--you'll break the cane when it gets caught
in a crack--nor so loose that every obstacle knocks it out of
your hand--you'll have to chase it too often.

I swing the cane from side to side with pressure of the wrist
and fingers. The hand swings like a door with the hinge at the
wrist. Pretty soon you will be almost flipping the cane back and
forth with an easy, unconscious motion.

My first teacher told us to hold the cane just below the belt
buckle with the forearm braced against the hip. From that
central position the cane can be tapped evenly from side to
side. This position is good for beginners, and some people stay
with it. Over the years my cane hand has drifted to the side by
my pocket. In either position, hold your hand out a few inches
so you do not impale yourself when the cane hits a stop. Your
whole arm can move to take up the shock.

When you are standing still, hold the cane vertically near your
body with a light grip. That is, I don't think you want to look
like a shepherd leaning on his staff.

There will be times, walking or standing, when you want to reach
out and check a particular landmark or shoreline. Be sure you
are not going to trip someone with the sudden motion, reach out,
and then bring your arm back to the original position. The point
is that you should hold the cane in a manner and position so as
to reach where you need to with comfort and without undue
fatigue.

Many canes have a loop of chain or string through the handle
which is for the purpose of hanging up the cane when it is not
in use. Do not put your hand through the loop when you are
walking. If something should happen to pull the cane out of your
hand, it is better to drop the cane than to be pulled down with
it.

You may think I don't care how you hold your cane. I do think
that there is more than one way and more than one place to hold
the cane. However and wherever you hold the cane, give yourself
protection for the full width of your body. The purpose of the
grip and position is to make it possible to tap the cane from
side to side, which is the subject of the next section, and that
is very important.

3. Actually Walking Around

Walking with the Cane, Rule One

My first travel teacher taught us Rule One: "When the body is in
motion, the cane is in rhythm." That means: tap the cane from
side to side, one tap per step, about two inches beyond the
width of your shoulders. Keep the tip low, but not constantly
dragging on the ground.

The idea of Rule One is to clear an area, and step into it.
Clear the next area, and step into it. You can do it faster than
you can say it. As you step left, tap right; as you step right,
tap left. As a beginner, you may think that swinging the cane
beyond your shoulders is too wide, but you will learn soon
enough that you need the width. With the right length of cane
and using this technique, you can learn to walk safely and with
confidence. You will locate obstacles and drop-offs, and be
prepared for them. If you keep the taps at a steady two inches
beyond your shoulders, it will help to even out your stride and
keep you walking straight. In crowds or other close quarters,
shorten up on the handle and narrow your swing. You are still a
member of the human race, so remember your basic courtesies.

The cane, of course, will not find every small obstacle on the
ground. It can go around an obstacle the size of a brick, but it
will find things larger than that. Sometimes there are holes in
the sidewalk, and the cane may go completely over a dip the size
of a dinner plate or a place mat. True, the cane is not perfect,
but nothing else is, either. Sighted or blind, everyone has
stories of how they tripped over or stepped into something.

The cane can tell you what is ahead, but be sure to give it the
chance to do that. If you are about to turn in an open area or
go around a corner, let the cane clear the area before you step
there. The headlights on a car point straight ahead and do not
look around the corner before the car turns. With a cane you can
and should check the area where you are about to turn and step;
side-stepping can be dangerous.

There are many un-numbered lesser rules, but always remember
Rule One: "When the body is in motion, the cane is in rhythm."

Planning Practice Routes

In the beginning a straight route is suitable. Try walking up
and down your block a time or two while concentrating on Rule
One. As you walk you may find a "shoreline" on one side: a wall,
a fence, or grass. Let your cane touch the shoreline each time
the swing goes to that side. It can help to keep you on course.
Shorelines have breaks and irregularities which soon become
landmarks to help you keep track of where you are. Soon you will
be walking around the block, if your neighborhood is laid out
that way, and returning to the starting point. You will find
both fixed and movable obstacles, all part of cane travel.

How can you match your next challenge to your level of
experience? You may just go a little farther every day. Guided
practice can be helpful if you can get it, but I mentioned that
at the beginning, so I will not belabor the point.

Going Up and Down Stairs

You're not going to be a flatlander for the rest of your life.

Almost every building has stairs or steps somewhere.

You are at the bottom of the stairs, about to go up. Some stairs
have hand-rails, and some don't, and you need to be able to use
either kind. If you are using the hand-rail, put your cane in
the other hand. Either way, The cane can tell you how high and
deep the first step is. I slide my hand part-way down the cane
and hold it diagonally across my body. The cane taps two or
three steps ahead of my feet. Going up and down stairs is almost
the only place I will tell you not to swing the cane from side
to side. At the top, resume Rule One.

When going down, locate the top step first with the cane, then
with the foot. Whether or not you use the hand-rail, hold the
cane diagonally across your body. Let the cane tip slide off
each step as you go. At the bottom, resume Rule One. There are
complications such as landings with or without turns. No one can
list all the tricks that architects can imagine. Let your cane
go first, and pay attention to what it says.

After this, you will be going up and down the ordinary hills and
valleys of the outdoor world.

Listening to Traffic on the Street as a Guide

Cars are a common part of the world we live in. Cars usually
drive straight along streets and turn at corners. Yes, I know
.... but there are crazy blind pedestrians just as there are
crazy sighted drivers.

I have found that a steady stream of traffic is one of the best
helps there is. By listening to traffic I can tell how far away
the street is, if the street runs straight or turns, where the
intersection is, and which color is showing on the traffic
light. I use traffic as an audible shoreline.

When you are walking around the block for practice, I recommend
that you do not turn the corner when you think you are there. Go
all the way to the curb, then back up a few steps and turn. It
is easy for beginners to turn too soon and find themselves
without the expected landmarks. Now that you have learned about
walking straight and listening to traffic, let's go on to
crossing streets.

Crossing Streets with No Traffic

For purposes of practice, use a street with as little traffic as
possible. Because many corners are rounded off for the
convenience of turning traffic, you cannot just walk straight
away from the curb. You need to find something as a guide to be
sure you are starting off straight across the street. That guide
may be part of the curb beyond the curved section at the corner.
It may be the dividing lines in the sidewalk. It may be the curb
ramp for wheelchairs, but be sure that the ramp is aimed
directly across the street and not diagonally out into the
intersection. It may be traffic either going your way or
crossing in front of you. When you locate your guide, line
yourself up with it so that you are facing directly across the
street. Listen carefully to be sure that no cars are approaching
from the side or around the corner.

Having checked your direction and your safety, step off the curb
and walk. Go quickly without rushing. Remember Rule One. There
can be obstacles or holes in the street as well as anywhere
else. When you come to the far side, sweep the curb with your
cane before stepping up. It is common to find signposts near
intersections, and I have found some with my head because I
didn't find them with my cane. Did you cross straight and arrive
at the sidewalk? If not, and I don't always, myself, pause to
make an educated guess from your surroundings, and make the
necessary corrections. There you are across the street. Now you
can go on your way.

Which Way Can Cars Turn At Intersections?

When you consider intersections, you need to know the directions
and paths that cars take when they go through or turn. That is:
if you are facing a street with the intersecting street on your
right, and each street allows two-way traffic, a left-turning
car can go from the middle lane on your right to the middle lane
in front of you. If you are crossing then, the car will appear
to approach from behind your right shoulder. If your experience
does not include such information, it is time to learn. You can
either observe for yourself or ask for help. There are many
combinations of factors to know about including one-way streets,
right turn on red, special turning lanes, traffic islands, and
traffic lights to accommodate all of these. All drivers out
there have to learn the rules of traffic, and you are just as
smart as they are. Learn them one at a time as you find them.

Environmental Clues and Mental Maps

In some ways, this section is the heart of cane travel. By using
your cane, which I do, or a little sight, which I do not do, you
are only extending the range of your perception a few feet. By
listening to the sounds around you and the nature of those
sounds, you are extending the range of your perception for many
feet, sometimes hundreds of feet. The mind has the greatest
reach, and can consider distances from inches away to miles
away, and objects the size of a bump in the sidewalk to a sports
stadium. The mind can form a mental picture or map arranging
landmarks along in the right order. Then it can check off each
point as you pass it. The mind coordinates all your knowledge,
information, senses and skills, so let us use this marvelous
mind of ours.

Rule One says: "When the body is in motion, the cane is in
rhythm." The cane is good at gathering short-range information
for you to act on. The mind needs to be aware of the messages
that the cane is sending. The cane sends such messages as: the
next step is clear, stop, jog to the side, make a sharp turn,
step up or down.

I am sure you have heard someone talking who, in the middle of a
sentence, turned his head or put his hand over his mouth. You
noticed the change in the character of the sound. The same kind
of change happens when the speaker walks around a corner. We can
learn to hear these same changes outside while we are walking.

When I became blind, I began to listen to sounds more carefully.
Even when I was told about some sounds, I did not notice them. I
learned gradually, not all at once. For me, "gradually" meant
from a few weeks to a few years.

I found that the sound of a car driving down the street changed
when it passed by a parked car or a tree. The first time I
remember noticing that effect was when I was still sighted, but
temporarily blind. That is, I walked between two parked cars in
a very dark parking lot and "heard" them, even though they were
standing still. What I heard was the sound shadow, the
difference in the background sound as these large objects
blocked part of what I heard. It makes no difference what you
call this effect, but it may help you if you use the experience.
Sometimes you can identify or locate an object by noticing the
air currents moving around it, be it a natural breeze or caused
by human action.

When you walk down a hall in a large building, you sometimes
pass a door with noise coming out of it. You may approach the
intersection of another hall where people are passing by in
front of you. The time may come when you notice the open door or
the intersecting hall just by the nature of the background
sound.

There are more than the five senses of touch, taste, smell,
sight, and hearing. There is the sense in our muscles that tells
us where our various body parts are. There are also the senses
of time and distance. These two work together and can be put to
use keeping track of where we are.

At home and work, I know about how big the rooms are and how
long the halls are, so I get used to how long it takes to cross
a room or to get to the end of the hall. Having gone far enough,
I anticipate the next thing to do, which is usually to turn a
corner or enter a doorway. When walking outside, we make use of
the same senses. We just expand the distances.

One more of the senses is the sense of turning. This sense is
not exact to me. I can identify turns better when I am going
fast than when I am going slow. Sometimes I walk around a gentle
curve and do not know how much I have turned, or that I have
turned at all. I wish I could do better.

Once, just for practice, a friend and I stood between a table
and a wall and tried to turn exactly 90 degrees back and forth.
It helped somewhat. This sense, alone, is not reliable to me,
but it is a help when combined with the other senses.

As a new travel student, I asked my teacher, "How can I go two
or three blocks this way, and four or five blocks that way, and
find the barber shop?" I learned later how much of a "beginner's
question" that was. It is like the algebra student who comes to
the first class and opens the book in the middle, only to ask,
"How can I ever solve that problem?" The answer is that you
start at the beginning, and later, when you pass that point in
the book you find that it was just one more step along the way.
Long ago I found that I could make use of general directions,
and I did find the barber shop.

I can usually keep track of where I am by checking off local
landmarks and noticing distances, but sometimes I do get
confused, disoriented, or simply "lost." I ask directions or
pick out a particular spot and do some limited exploring. I may
have been a block short, 90 degrees off course, or even right on
course but not aware of it. I may feel stupid for a minute, but
I get "found" and go on my way.

I learn easily from spacial displays. I like two-dimensional
paper maps, but they are hard to find.

When I think of where I'm going, I map out my route in my head.
For some people, maps are of no help at all. They do not want to
know north and south. Just tell them left or right, and how far
it is. I can work from either kind of directions. We all have
different abilities, notice different landmarks, and go on
different trips, so use the things that help you.

Compass directions can be a very useful tool. First, you need to
know that North and South are opposite each other, and that East
and West are opposite each other. When you face North, West is
to the left and East is to the right. Many cities try to have
some orientation to the compass, but there are usually a few
streets that curve or are just not straight with the compass.
When walking inside a large building, it may be helpful to
identify halls by compass directions.

Let me end this section with a set of directions I once gave to
a friend of mine. "Go out of the building and turn left to the
corner. Cross the street to the right and go south, down to the
next corner. You need to cross the intersection both ways, and
end up going left, east, for two blocks. That is where you come
to the big, wide street with the traffic island on the far side
and the separate light for the small street beyond it. When you
get across there, turn right, and you will be going slightly
down-hill. A little way down the block, the street makes a
slight turn to the left. From that point on, there are several
store entrances that are similar. The one you want is the fourth
or fifth one, but it is the only one with a rubber doormat." He
said he went right to it.

Expanding Your Horizons

If you are starting cane travel without formal training, you
will meet these conditions in no special order. You can learn
them as you come to them.

An experienced guide or teacher can be of help in judging the
degree of your ability so as to present new challenges at the
right time with the right degree of complication. Do you need
more practice going around the block so you don't get confused
crossing the alley? Do you still pass that store that is set
back from the street? Are you keeping track of the landmarks
along the route so you know when to turn into the office you
wanted to find? On a round-trip, can you get back to your
starting point?

Landmarks can be such things as a particular arrangement of
signposts, mailboxes, lawns, bushes, driveways, barking dogs,
busy streets, broken sidewalks, hot-dog stands and gas stations.
I have deliberately mentioned things that you feel with a cane,
feel with your feet, hear or smell. All of these things have, at
times, been landmarks for me. Every blind traveler will develop
his own local list of landmarks.

Do you need to take a route down a narrow sidewalk with parking
meters every ten feet? That will help you learn how wide to
swing your cane and how to get it untangled from obstacles. Do
you need to take a route along a very wide sidewalk with crowds
of people going both ways, or no other people going either way?
That will help you develop your ability to walk straight.

By the way, what is "walking straight?" It is a matter of
keeping the goal ahead of you and making a series of minor
course corrections. As you gain experience in swinging your cane
evenly, as you pick up a little bit of speed, as you make use of
more landmarks, and as you identify more sounds around you, you
will find that you are walking straight. I listen in all
directions, but we usually walk in the direction we are looking,
so keep your face straight ahead.

Every now and then someone calls to me, usually from at least 20
feet away, while I am crossing a street, "Straighten out, you're
walking crooked!" Of course, had I known I was walking crooked,
I would already have made my own corrections. It finally
occurred to me that what these people are trying to say is, "You
are going off at an angle to the desired direction, and it would
be well to alter your course slightly." The person has an idea
of what the ideal course would be, but they did not tell me
which way to go, left or right. At times like that, I make a
quick decision based on what is around me. Oh, when will people
learn to be more specific and do it without informing the whole
neighborhood?

As I walk down a block in either a business or residential area,
I listen to what is around me and what is ahead of me. What is
ahead soon becomes the next intersection. By the time I arrive I
usually know what the traffic condition is and which street has
the green light. If you can learn to add this trick to your
list, it will keep you going more smoothly.

One Dangerous Situation to Avoid

Let me tell you of one time not to cross a street. When a car
that could go past stops, and the driver calls to you, "Go
ahead, I'll wait for you," and especially if there is an empty
lane beside the car, do not cross. The time will come when a
second driver will not see you and will zip past at speed. Why
not? The lights were with him. I have narrowly escaped injury in
such a situation. I went to the funeral of a couple who were
caught in just such a situation. Having learned my lesson, I
sometimes have to turn and walk away from the curb a few steps
in order to convince the driver that I will not cross then.

Crossing Big, Busy Intersections

Busy intersections usually have traffic lights with lots of cars
going through. I use the sound of the traffic to show where,
when, and how far I need to go. Consider the possibility of such
things as traffic islands and multiple phases in the traffic
lights. With as much traffic as there is, you could line up your
shoulders parallel with the cars crossing in front of you, or
find some mark on the sidewalk to point you straight across the
street. Do not start part-way through a cycle on a "stale green"
light. I am always wary of people who tell me, "You can go now.
There's no one coming." Where I live, drivers observe traffic
lights more strictly than pedestrians do.

The movement of traffic tells me when the light changes in my
favor. I may pause, but just for a moment, to be sure that no
cars are turning in front of me. It is time to step down and
walk quickly, using Rule One. If there are other pedestrians, go
with them. There is some safety in numbers. I listen to the cars
going my way, and follow the direction they take. This is the
time to listen, feel, and think in all directions. Sometimes
there is turning traffic for which you must either speed up or
slow down. The other side of the street really does exist, and
you can get there. By now the last of the cars going your way
are passing you on one side, and you are passing the cars
waiting on the street you are crossing on the other side of you.
Now here is the curb. Sweep it off, step up, and go on your way.

What Goes Through My Mind While Walking Down a Street?

When I was a child I used to hear of people who could dance and
talk with their partner at the same time. I thought they had to
be very good dancers to do that. When I grew older and learned
to dance, I found that it wasn't as hard as I thought it would
be. When a blind person walks down a sidewalk, swinging a long
white cane, some of the same physical and mental coordination is
going on. When walking with a cane you coordinate your own speed
and rhythm with your surroundings. There are lots of things you
anticipate, notice, and then pass by. Come along as I take a
six-block walk through a downtown area.

As I get off the bus, I let the cane tell me if I am in the
street or on the curb. It's a deep step to the street. The first
swing of the cane finds the curb. The rest of the swing clears
the curb, and I step up and go in about two more steps. Now I am
at the sidewalk. Along this street there are sections of grassy
tree lawn, so I have to keep back from the curb about this
distance.

I turn right and get Rule One going. There's traffic in the
street on the right, and I'll try to stay an even distance from
it. It sounds like people standing and talking near the edge of
the walk, so I need to curve around them. Now there's grass on
the right, so let the cane touch it on each swing to that side.
The grass won't last long, but it's a good shoreline while it's
there.

Some lady in high heels is trying to trot past me. I must not be
going fast enough for her. So what! I walk faster than some
people and slower than others. I'll follow those heels to the
end of the block.

I must be nearing the end of the block. I can hear cars crossing
in front of me. I should go clear out to the curb on this block.
I have turned to go around the corner too soon on other trips
here and found myself where I didn't want to be and wasn't sure
where I was. At a time like that I try to reverse my course and
get back to a known location.

There's the corner with its wheel chair ramp. I back up a step,
turn left, and get Rule One going again. There's no good
shoreline on this side of the walk. On the return trip there's a
good shoreline, a nice cement curb along the inner edge of the
walk. Sometimes I drift over and take that side of the walk,
anyway. This time I listen hard to the traffic on the right and
keep it just so far from me. "Oh drat!" I got too close, and the
tree is trying to brush my hair for me. People are approaching
from ahead, so I narrow the swing of the cane on the left a bit.

There's traffic crossing in front of me, again. I need to notice
how long it keeps moving since this time I must cross the
street. "Five seconds--ten seconds." No, it changed. Now the
cars are going my way. Will I have time to get there before the
green light goes stale? "Ten seconds--fifteen--twenty." No, too
late. Lights change every thirty seconds in this part of town,
so I would rather wait for a fresh start. I'm not perfectly
accurate on counting seconds, but I'm close enough to give
myself a good idea of when to expect the lights to change. The
light changes; no cars turning; I walk; and, what do you know,
right up the ramp on the other side.

The next block has a wide sidewalk with tall buildings on the
left. There is something going on at the lower edge of my
awareness, and I don't think of it most of the time. Background
noise reflects off this continuous wall of buildings, and
"hearing that wall" makes it easier for me to keep a steady
distance from it. These next four blocks have the same feature,
but the only time I think of it is in the last block when an
alley makes a break in the wall. The cane keeps swinging,
according to Rule One, but that is almost as unconscious an act
as moving my feet.

Both street and pedestrian traffic are heavier here. There is a
person calling out at the far end of the block. Drawing nearer I
can tell it is a woman selling fruit. I give her a little more
space on the right. There is plenty of traffic to mark the
intersection. Just as I come even with the fruit woman, there is
a shift in the surrounding noise, and I have passed the
buildings. Now which direction was the light green? I wasn't
paying enough attention to that. There are cars crossing in
front of me, so I'll just walk slowly up to the curb. There are
plenty of cars and people to define the red and green light.

Here's the green light, and all the pedestrians are going, which
means that no cars are turning. It's a wide street, and I go at
a quick pace. At other times I have found a sign post half way
across at the edge of the crosswalk, but if I keep to the right
I should avoid it.

I do a mental juggling act to balance all the values. Don't get
too close to the cars on the right; avoid the sign on the left;
don't trip the pedestrians with the cane; here's the hump in the
middle of the street; it's downhill from here; a car is turning
the corner in front of me; pause, it's bigger than I am; and
now, the curb, at last. Sweep off the curb, and--whoops! Don't
step up here. There are several signposts in the way. Turn
toward the corner with one tap of the cane in the street and one
tap on the curb. Now the curb is clear, so step up, and just in
time. Listen a moment to people and cars for a directional
guide, and off we go again.

This block is rather uneventful, and here's the next
intersection. There is plenty of traffic, so I know when the
light's changing, and there it goes, just in time for me. It
isn't quite a straight crossing, but half a step to the right is
enough of a correction. I dodge left around the popcorn stand
which shows itself in three ways. It blocks the sound of the
cars behind it, a sound shadow; the vendor and customers are
talking; and you can guess what the last clue is.

Now, for the last two blocks, and this one is plain vanilla. The
light changes in my favor just as I pass the last building. "One
thousand, two thousand, three thousand." There's the corner, and
no cars turning. I still have time to make it.

The crossing is OK, and my building is almost at the end of the
block. There's the alley which is about two-thirds of the way.
It's time to cross over to the left side of the walk and tap the
front of buildings with each swing of the cane.

What I want is a wide entrance with a foot-thick, metal-covered
pole at the edge of the walk, but all the buildings here are
even with the walk.

Here's a building, more building, a glass door, but it's not set
back, more building ... "Bother!" There's the corner, so I
passed it. Turn around and go back. There's the building; glass
door, more building. Here are the setback and the pole, my
building at last. Now it's just two steps and turn right for the
swinging door.

Every trip is a bit different, even though some component parts
are similar. Just disassemble the parts and shake them up before
selecting the items for your next trip. If you keep your
landmarks in mind, use your basic techniques, and pay attention
to things around you; you'll get there.

Walking with Someone Else

The first thing to remember when you are walking with someone
else is that you are still responsible for your own safety. The
two times I suffered serious injury while walking were while I
was with someone else. I falsely and foolishly gave over
direction to the sighted person I thought was guiding me. In
each case the other person considered that I was managing at
least part of my own guidance. The other person may choose the
main route, guide you around obstacles, let you know at step-ups
and drop-offs, but it is essential for you to pay attention, too.

When I walk with another person, sighted or blind, I find it
easier to stay with them if one of us takes the arm of the
other. Not everyone likes that physical contact, so I have to
divide my attention between where I am going and where the other
person is. We can stay close enough for conversation, but the
proximity is not as steady.

If you are with a stranger, or even a friend, it is polite to
ask: "May I take your arm?" If they accept your offer, take
their arm lightly or put your hand on their shoulder. Fall in
step. Regardless of whether your companion is sighted or blind,
continue using Rule One.

Some of my sighted friends and family members are used to
guiding me, and I am confident of their judgment about speed,
space, and obstacles. Sometimes I walk directly behind if the
space is narrow. When the space opens up, I step up beside them.
I do not always judge well where the other person's feet are,
and step on their shoes. I try to judge their step by the sway
of their body, but I don't always get it right.

Many guides, such as the people you meet at street corners who
offer to help you across the street, are not familiar with how
to guide. I may just muddle through, or I may take the time to
say something like this: "It is easier if I take your arm. That
way, you will be half a step in front, and I can anticipate my
step by noticing what you do."

There are circumstances when I make good or bad compromises with
the rules. With a guide I sometimes walk along with the cane
diagonally across my body while making regular or occasional
taps. Then there was the time, while rushing through the
airport, I had a suitcase in one hand, my cane and a suitcase in
the other hand, my guide had my arm and the third suitcase. We
cut a wide swath, and I'm glad it was only an ashtray we knocked
over and not a five-year-old.

Walking Without a Cane

We all walk without a cane sometimes, so let's talk about it. I
remember the rule I read in a book about mountain climbing which
said that you should always use a rope, but you should climb as
if you did not have a rope.

When you are not using a cane, everything else in the
environment becomes more important. Whatever you can find with
any other sense organ must be evaluated as quickly as possible.
In my own home, I try to keep doors open or closed all the way.
I swing an arm through a doorway as I near it, just to be sure I
am passing through it neatly. Sometimes I touch furniture as I
go by. I pause at the top and bottom of stairs, and reach with
my foot to locate the first step. When looking for a doorknob or
light switch, I make more of a sweeping motion than a straight
reach. I sometimes keep my arm across in front of my waist.

One thing I do not do is to hold my arms straight out with the
palms forward in the traditional sleep-walker's pose. If I were
that uncertain, I would use my cane. The cane looks better and
is far more effective.

I walk more slowly without a cane. I do not use a cane within my
own home, and rarely enough around my yard. But that is the
boundary. Once in a while I will walk a short way around my
neighborhood without a cane. And one time, because of freak
circumstances, I was caught at night, five blocks from home, on
the far side of a traffic circle without a cane. I walked very
carefully and a little slower than usual, and made it, but I
would not do it if there were another way.

Using a cane is a habit with me, and when I go out, I grab my
cane on the way.

4. Public Transportation

Riding Buses and Streetcars

Most trips involve walking at the beginning and end, or even in
the middle, so that many skills are used. You need to have the
route, destination, and length of the trip in mind before you
start. While planning your trip, learn the name and/or number of
the bus you want. Buses for different routes may use the same or
nearby stops, and you will need to ask before boarding.

You need to know where the stop is: at the corner or around the
corner, back from the corner or across the intersection. All of
these locations and more are possibilities. In my boyhood and
youth I rode streetcars that ran in the center lane of the
street. We boarded from an island, sometimes raised and
sometimes painted on the street. I had to locate the island by
listening to where cars did not run.

With practice you will learn how fast people shuffle along as
they step up, pay their fare, get a transfer, and find a seat.
Do you need to ask the driver to call your stop for you? The
time of boarding is a good time to ask for that help. Sometimes
it is wise to confirm your destination with the driver as you
near it, especially if it is a long trip. When you get off,
remember all those possible locations of the bus stop we
mentioned at the beginning of the trip. In unfamiliar areas, I
ask where the stop will be for the return trip.

Over the years I have made many mistakes such as waiting at the
wrong stop, getting on the wrong bus, getting off too soon or
too late, and more. I have paid for these mistakes in time and
confusion, but I have learned from them.

Next I will present a step-by-step account of a trip I take
frequently. I do this to share what I find necessary and helpful
when riding the bus. This trip takes me from work to home.

I go out the door of the building where I work and turn left. At
the end of the block there is an oblique left where I again go
to the end of the block.

There are three streets that almost come together here to form a
series of individual intersections. There are curb cuts for
wheelchairs, and if I use them and walk straight, I hit the ramp
on the opposite side. At this time of day there is plenty of
traffic waiting to go the same way I do. I go when they go, stay
parallel to the line of cars on the left, keep between them and
the cars waiting their turn on my right. If I step up on grass,
I am too far to the right, so correct to the left. It is about
seventy feet to the next corner, and about half of that distance
is taken by the entrance to a gas station. I can tell when I am
crossing their slanted driveway if one foot is high and one foot
is low.

I wait through the cycle of lights and cross the next street. On
the curb I walk in two or three steps and turn right. The bus
stop is a bus length down, just beyond a plot of dirt with a
tree and a trash can. There are often other people waiting for
the bus.

There are three routes that use this stop, and two of them will
take me where I need to go. Some of the drivers have learned to
announce their route as they open the door, so I don't always
have to ask. Often there are people getting off, so I wait my
turn to board. I step up, put the fare in the box, ask for my
kind of transfer to go across a zone line, and find a seat.

Here I digress for a point of philosophy. Drivers and other
passengers may encourage you or force you to sit in the
"priority seating" at the front of the bus. The choice is still
yours to take it or not. I sometimes sit in front and sometimes
farther back.

How do I know where to get off? This leg of the trip is short
enough so I have learned the pattern of the eight stops. Even if
we miss one, and at that time of day we usually hit them all, I
can account for the distance. It goes like this: long, medium,
medium, long, very short, long, medium but often missed, medium.
After six I get up, approach the driver and ask. I actually
count stops on my fingers, but please don't tell my third grade
teacher!

The stop where I get off is near the corner, so I walk the few
feet and check for the direction of traffic. Sometimes I cross
with that noisy bus beside me, but I feel safe because no
traffic is coming through that bus. The stop for the next bus is
just to the right where I have to thread my way between a trash
can, a telephone stand, and a newspaper vending machine, all
good landmarks.

For this bus and the next my only fare is my transfer. We go
through a distinctive set of turns and up a long hill, but I
don't have to notice while going home because I ride to the end
of the line.

At this terminal, I walk straight away from the bus, then turn
to follow the sidewalk beside the turn-around used by several of
the buses. I dodge people, benches, and supporting pillars, and
turn out at the second exit, which puts me right at the fire
plug beside my bus stop. This time I can only take one of the
three buses that stop here, and sometimes they line up, so I may
have to back up fifty feet for mine. I have made a few "bus
stop" acquaintances who sometimes give me the word.

This leg of the trip takes about twenty minutes. We start off
around the terminal and, after a quarter of a mile, in, around,
and out of a traffic circle. Those turns are distinctive. We go
about four miles with very few people getting on or off. Then we
come to a major intersection for which we must wait through at
least one cycle of the lights and with the stop after we cross.
After the next stop, which we do not always make, the bus makes
an oblique left turn, and I sigh with relief because it is my
last landmark. I get up when the bus shifts into high gear. At
my stop I go back across the street we just crossed and walk two
short blocks to my home.

I know that this description is long, but it is the "one bite at
a time" approach to eating an elephant. No two trips are exactly
the same, but you may find some of these techniques useful as
you develop your own.

Subways, Escalators, and Elevators

The first thing people want to know about subways is the
location of the platform edge. I slide my cane tip along to
locate the edge, step back from it, and respect it. As I walk
along subway platforms, I walk a little slower than usual, and I
swing my cane a little wider than usual. I also slide the cane
on the surface, the only time I use this otherwise poor
technique. I want to know immediately if the cane drops over the
edge. I expect people to criticize me about this point, so go
ahead. The one thing I do not do is step sideways. The cane has
been ahead of me, not to the side.

When the train comes, and after the door opens, put the cane tip
on the floor of the car before you step in just to be sure you
are not trying to enter the gap between cars. When you get off,
let the cane tip go first to be sure that there is a platform
waiting for you.

Are there stairs, escalators or elevators to take you up and
down? Stairs have been discussed earlier. For escalators, I only
know one warning and two tricks, and they are not exclusive to
blind people. The warning is that an escalator is a powerful,
moving machine. Cooperate with it as it helps you, and you will
get there. Use the hand-rail, and don't play around. The first
trick is, if I am not sure if an escalator is going up or down,
I pause in front of it and feel the hand-rail. The other trick
is one of balance as I step on or off a moving platform. When I
step on, and I feel the stair treads dividing under my feet, I
step up or down so that my whole foot is on one tread, not
divided between treads, but that is no trick. It is just common
sense.

Treat elevators with the same respect you treat the platform
edge. Let the cane tell you that there is something solid ahead
of you to step on. This is no time to enact bad elevator jokes.

Airports, Train and Bus stations

Transportation terminals tend to have several features in
common. There are long distances to cover and large open areas
with arrangements of furniture in the middle. The ticket counter
is relatively close to the entrance, relative to the size of the
terminal, that is.

The next part of the trip may cover several hundred yards of
corridors including an array of modern miracle transportation:
moving sidewalks, people movers, monorails and more. Little
children think they are fun; I must be getting old. At the end
of this part of the trip you must find just the right door and
play the ticket game again.

You may be able to get most or all the way by yourself, but if
you need help in finding your way, there is no use in being shy
about asking for help. A personal guide may range from necessary
to helpful to bothersome. As hard as it sometimes is to find
help when you need it, sometimes it is harder to get rid of help
when you don't want it any more. Some trips are once and never
again, and I need more help then. Some trips are regulars, and I
need little if any help then.

The job of the blind traveler is to learn and keep in mind the
gate number and departure time. The guide, then, needs only to
locate and steer, not to investigate and govern. The guide may
try to investigate and govern, anyway, but it is your trip, not
theirs. You make the decisions, so you stay in control.

In my experience, one of the distinct features of airports is
the departure lounge. That is where you may have your ticket
taken away from you, be pre-boarded, be helped at the right or
wrong time with the right or wrong amount of help.

I have found it informative to hear what airline personnel say
to each other about me. "Should we take his ticket?" That was
when I clutched my ticket and gently found a seat to wait in. It
was not the same seat I had before I went up to ask my question,
but I still had my ticket and boarded when I chose.

There was the time when three flights were called before mine.
Everyone walked around the edge of the lounge, avoiding the
central area. I decided that benches or plants must be blocking
that area. I could hear where tickets were being taken. When my
flight was called, I took the "round" trip and found the
departure gate myself. That was when I heard, "He didn't ask for
any help." I don't always insist on being that independent, but
that day I did.

Train stations may or may not be as big as airports, but they
share the same obstacles. Trains are long, so platforms have to
be long. Some train platforms are raised above the level of the
tracks, so remember the rules from the subway lesson. Locate the
platform edge, and respect it. Do not step sideways. Let your
cane tell you that there is something solid to step on: up,
down, and level.

Bus stations range in size from a driveway beside a small-town
drug store to a city block or more. In bus stations, you need to
get to the right boarding gate, and there is often a loud noise
when you get there. Sometimes the distance from the boarding
gate to the bus door is short and obvious, and you can find it
easily. Sometimes the bus you want is behind or beyond three
others, all of which are roaring along with their engines on
"high idle". If you know where to go, then go ahead. Remember
Rule One. If you don't know where to go, ask for help. All that
noise to a blind person masks other useful sounds. The
equivalent situation to a sighted person would be turning out
the lights or flooding the area with fog.

5. Times and Places without the Usual Landmarks

Grocery Stores

If I am going alone, and I know what I want and where it is, I
find movement easiest with my cane in front while holding the
front end of the grocery cart and pulling it behind me. It
steers better that way. If I am shopping with another person, I
find that store aisles are too narrow for two people and a cart.
That is when I follow my guide with my hand on a shoulder. The
cart needs to go at the front or the back of the procession, a
matter of personal choice.

Most of the time I am an organized shopper, preparing my grocery
list beforehand. If I know the layout of the store, I think of
each section and decide what to buy as I mentally walk around.
If the store is new to me, and all stores are new the first
time, I do some preparation, anyway. The more I am going to buy,
the more help I need, so I ask the store for one of their staff
to help in my selections. You have to be specific when
designating items: tuna, oil packed or water packed; cereal,
which size; bananas, how green. Finding a time that is good for
you to shop and the store to help is a matter of juggling
schedules.

In years past, I used a two-wheeled fold-up cart for pulling my
groceries home. The cart had a bad habit of getting too close
and running over my heel. In order to keep the cart in its place
behind me, I held my arm straight down and against my side. That
position kept the wheels back from me.

How Do You Walk in Ice, Snow, and Rain?

Ice, snow, and rain have this in common: they make the footing
slippery. How do I keep from giving a skating demonstration and
falling on my dignity? I walk a little slower, keep my knees
slightly bent, and take shorter steps. I also put my feet down
flat, not striding out with the heel landing first. I may not
move fast, but I do move and stay upright.

If the snow is light or fresh, I dig my cane through it, and
with the combination of sound and touch I can tell what is
there. If the snow is too deep to dig through or it is packed
and frozen, the cane must find something above the surface to
identify as a landmark. Sometimes packed snow on the sidewalk
and loose snow beside it show enough difference to help. Taller
landmarks are helpful, such as bushes, fences, sign posts, and
parked cars. Snow covers many of the usual landmarks, but it can
become a landmark, itself. One winter it stayed so cold for so
long that I used a particular snow bank as a landmark on the way
to a friend's house.

When the snow is deep and soft, it weighs down branches which
hang in front of you. One advantage of a long cane is that you
can reach up and tap a branch so it will release its burden of
snow before you walk under it. Well, it works sometimes.

The world sounds different with a covering of snow. Echoes
disappear. Distances expand. I navigate more by dead reckoning
and less by my usual landmarks.

Rain may not change the footing as much as snow and ice do, but
it can change the sound of things in its own way. Cars hissing
by on wet streets mask other sounds. Rustling raincoats do the
same. Hats, scarves and hoods all influence what you hear in
different ways, and you may want to think of that along with the
weather. I am rarely out in rain so hard that it covers all
other sounds.

It may take longer to get places in the rain. I often listen
harder and wait longer to know where things are and when things
happen. Here is another practical use for the long cane: finding
the depth and width of curbside puddles.

How About Suburban and Rural Roads with No Sidewalks?

I like to get routes, distances, and landmarks well in mind
before starting. There is more area in which to get lost, and
fewer people from whom to ask directions. I take my longest cane
and swing it rather widely. I move along at a good clip because
there are greater distances to cover. I still have to stay alert
for traffic on the road, as well as mailboxes and ditches beside
it.

I usually stay on the shoulder of the roadway, but sometimes I
take short excursions to explore for a sidewalk which may appear
for a while, or a front walk, driveway, or other landmark that
would help me keep track of what is about and around. I like to
stay close to the road, because that is the main landmark. The
direction of the sun, wind, and distant sounds can also be used
as a guide and landmark.

Are There Roads and Intersections Unsafe for Any Pedestrian?

I am one of those people who finds the "wet paint" sign and
wonders if the paint is still wet. That same rebellious,
disbelieving streak comes out when people tell me not to attempt
certain streets or intersections because they are too dangerous
or complicated for me. I always wonder if they mean "because I
am blind."

I usually learn something about these places before testing them
for myself. Is there another street or intersection a block or
two from there that would get me to my destination just as well?
The answer is sometimes "yes" and sometimes "no." I know some
"nervous nay-sayers" who simply have no faith in the travel
abilities of blind people. I also know some "supporting
stalwarts" who recognize realistic obstacles.

When it comes time for me to make my own decision, I take it
slowly, allowing plenty of time on my schedule. I also pick an
off-peak time for traffic. There is no doubt about it, I have
made mistakes! Once I found that the roadway dropped immediately
into a 3-foot wide ditch at the bottom of a 50-degree hill. The
cars going by fanned me with their breeze. I never went back
there. Another time I walked over an area of hedges, potted
plants, no proper sidewalks, becoming somewhat disoriented
before coming to the other side. I was glad I had only gone
through the confusing part of that one, and not the dangerous
part.

Sometimes I have had satisfying success. I have stood at an
intersection for many minutes, listening to the traffic to learn
where the movement went, and when the directions changed. Then I
decided I could make it, and did. To another blind person, I
would say, "gather all your skills and use your best judgment
for evaluating the situation before and during the trip. If
necessary, be willing to find another route for the next time."

Picnics, Hiking, and Rough Country

Do you go for picnics or hikes in the country? When I go on
these trips, I take my sturdiest cane along. It is just as
important here as anywhere else to use the cane and to keep
track of landmarks and directions. When I arrive at a new area,
I do as many people do; I try to get an idea of what is around
me. Are there buildings, roads, rocks, trees, or open areas? Is
there a slope to the land, and what is the direction of the sun,
wind, and noises? I may do some short-range exploring while
keeping track of my point of reference, be it a car or a picnic
table.

Since I am the only man in my family and the strongest one of
us, I get to carry the picnic cooler from the car to the table,
but I still use my cane. The cane is held somehow or other in
front, whether I am being guided or carrying this two-handed
burden alone. My shins want the cane to tell them when we arrive
at the bench.

When hiking beside someone else, I still protect myself with the
cane. Some trails are well-worn and obvious to the feet, so I
may walk alone and use Rule One, the side-to-side swing of the
cane. On some narrow trails I let my guide take one end of the
cane while I hold the other end. Since I am without the cane as
a bumper, I work out signals with my partner such as "left
around the rock," or "up and over the log." I try to get my
partner to put the functional word first and not at the end of a
long, descriptive sentence. By the time I listen to "There's a
bend in the trail up here with a tree on one side and a cliff on
the other, so I guess you'd better stay to the right," I may
already have met my fate.

When it comes to clambering over hills and boulders, some of the
cane technique gets rather informal. I still use the cane to
locate the next place my foot is going. Sometimes there is as
much poking and probing as swinging the cane from side to side.
I rarely jump, and only when I am very sure of where I will
land. When the rocks and hills get very steep, it may be more
practical to slip the cane under my belt or abandon it
altogether, and just use hands and feet.

If you want to use a directional compass, you need to have a
good idea of where you are going before you begin. You must make
the compass work for you along with the other tools you use.
Keep a record of landmarks, distances, and compass bearings. If
you are going very far, you need more instruction in
orienteering than I can give you here.

When I am entangled in bushes and trees with interlocking
branches as high as my head, I am usually in someone's back yard
or in a city park. Only a few times have I been in rough country
where this condition lasted. If the usual city technique of
swinging the cane along the ground is just not telling you
enough, and the branches are getting in your face, try this.

Bring the cane up at a diagonal in front of your body, across at
head level, and down at a diagonal to the other side. For the
next step, reverse the direction. The path of the cane is an X
with a loop at the top. I go rather slowly when I do this, and I
am usually holding back branches with my free hand. This really
is a "wild woods" technique. Do not use it around people or
other works of the human race such as windows. IN all the years
of travel I have behind me, my total use of this technique
probably does not exceed ten minutes.

6. Care and Feeding of the Long White Cane

Wash, Feed, and Dress Your Cane

The washing part is obvious, but I am a poor one to tell you,
since I don't do it often enough, myself. Collapsible canes that
are held together by an internal elastic cord need watching.
Keep track of the wear on the elastic cord, and be smart enough
to replace it the day before it breaks. Of course, it is better
to be a month early than a day late.

Cane tips last me anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. I
carry a spare tip with me most of the time. A cane tip with a
hole in it sounds different from a tip without the hole, and
that is the sign to carry a spare tip all the time. I have worn
out or lost tips unexpectedly. The unprotected end of any cane,
especially fiberglass, is damaged quickly when rubbed against
concrete. Just wave the cane, and keep the tapping to a minimum.

Does your cane have reflective tape on it? If not, you could put
some on it anywhere along the stem. It is an investment in
night-time safety. Reflective surfaces need to be kept clean or
replaced to maintain their reflective value.

If you associate with other blind people, as I do, you may want
some unique mark on your cane. I write my name in braille on
Dymo tape and stick it on the bottom end of the handle.

Where Does the Cane Go When Not in Use?

When answering this question, you discover the great advantage
of the folding or collapsible cane. Those styles can fit in a
pocket, purse, on a lap, or under a chair very easily.

There are two horizontal dimensions and one vertical dimension.
Find some place out of the way; lying on the floor under a chair
or table, standing in a corner, or leaning against a wall. Be
sure that the cane is lying flat on the floor and not resting on
something that holds it an inch or two above the floor where it
will be just high enough to trip the unsuspecting passer-by. In
some crowded areas "up" is the only way left. When I am seated,
I sometimes lean the cane from the floor to my shoulder, hooked
behind my heel.

Once in a restaurant, I lost the tip while retrieving the cane
from a tiny place behind the booth. I remember that incident,
and sometimes I take the tip off before jamming the cane into
tight places. In air travel stick the cane in some
out-of-the-way place, but do not let the crew take it away from
you. The regulations are now on our side.

Which Hand Do You Cane With?

The most obvious answer to this question is that you cane with
your dominant hand. I am right-handed, but I trade off when I
carry a heavy object. There may be a landmark I want to check on
the other side. When I am walking with someone else, holding on
or not, it may be better to have the cane on the other side to
stay away from feet or another cane. If someone is holding my
cane arm, it restricts the movement. I don't want that. I have
had enough practice with my left hand so that I am fully
adequate, but I am still more comfortable with the cane in the
right hand. The question of which hand you use is a matter of
the convenience of the moment.

7. Thoughts and Experiences on Cane Travel

How Long Does It Take to Learn Cane Travel?

In order to answer this question, you must consider three major
variable factors: 1. your background; 2. your aptitude; and 3.
the amount of time available.

I will give some numbers from my experience, but not until I
expand on these factors.

Background: Are you familiar with the area where you will be
traveling? Do you know where some of the streets and buildings
are? Are you used to the roar of the city, the hush of the
suburbs, the quiet of the country? Do you know that streets have
names and numbers, and that buildings have numbers, but
sometimes have names? Do you start off fearful of traffic, or
just unfamiliar with it? Are you familiar with traffic and the
way it moves so that you know what to expect of it?

Aptitude: Are you used to finding your own way, or have people
always taken you places and told you when to stop and go? Let me
mention the two extremes of aptitude.

The youth was newly blind and in his late teens. He came from a
rural setting where he had often gone on cross-country treks
when he was sighted. There was a touch of youthful rebellion in
him. It seemed as though his needs would be met by handing him a
cane, reading him Rule One, and getting out of his way. He did
go through several lessons, but he never needed to repeat them
for practice. He was a natural traveler.

The lady was newly blind and middle-aged. She was from an urban
setting, but was not used to getting places alone. She was very
comfortable with her friends in her living room. During lessons
she made the narrowest possible interpretation of instructions
and then paused to ask, "Is this right?" I could not bring her
to the recognition of her own responsibility to judge each
situation. We parted company disappointed with each other.

There are people who would associate some of these
characteristics with being sighted or blind, but I have met
people in both groups with odd mixtures of these
characteristics.

The amount of time available: Time should be measured in two
ways: the number of hours per day and week, and the number of
months to be filled with this schedule. When I began as a
student in a residential orientation center, I was spending
fifteen to twenty hours a week in guided practice. It worked
well for me. I have known people who made good progress with
four to five hours of guided practice in a week. It seems to me
that anything under three hours in a week would be getting
rather thin. These hours I am talking about are hours spent on
specific skill practice. They cannot be the only time spent
using the cane. After all, you are learning these skills to use
them in everyday life, so every time you go out, take your cane
and use what you have been learning. As with any skill, the more
you use it, the faster you will improve.

The next time you send a letter, grab your cane and walk down to
the corner mailbox. Find excuses to take short trips here and
there. There must be some places you want to go, so walk there
with your cane. Take the cane every time you go out. It is this
kind of constant purposeful practice that locks in the lessons
and speeds the learning process. If the only time you use your
cane is during the three hours a week you have lessons, and
every other time you go somewhere it is on the arm of your
guide, you are not going to learn how to travel alone.

One thing that helped me a great deal was being with other blind
people who took short trips together. We walked within the
buildings, the grounds, and out for snacks. There is nothing
like peer pressure, seeing that they can do it and having them
expect you to join them. Aren't you just as smart as they are?
And if you are still a beginner, you don't have to be in front.

I spent an intensive six weeks on travel and reached a
satisfactory level of skill. Most people I know who worked
steadily for several hours a week, plus out-of-class "just
walking around" became good travelers or made as much progress
as they were going to make for a good foundation in travel in
two to three months. That is from starting as a beginner.

Can a Blind Person Teach Cane Travel?

By the time I tried teaching other people, I was a good
traveler. Wherever I lived, I had to learn the area, but there
was little difference in difficulty from one place to the next.
I crossed narrow and wide streets with straight or angled
crossings. There were traffic islands and multiple-phase traffic
lights with more or less traffic. I had to think about some
intersections more than others, but I went where I wanted to go.

When I planned lessons for beginning students, I had to consider
the difficulties of the lesson for each day, and gradually
increase the level of challenge. That was my first surprise as a
teacher. I scouted the area of each lesson to identify
landmarks, challenges, and hazards. Having given route
instructions at the beginning of the walk, I then preceded or
followed the student. There were always certain places where I
wanted to be nearby to evaluate how the student met the
challenge of the day. The difficulty for any teacher is knowing
when to let the student work out the problem alone, and when to
step in with further instruction. What we did was very basic. At
first you walk up and down the block, then around the block. You
cross narrow, quiet streets, and then busier streets with
traffic lights. You work on short routes the student wants to
accomplish, then longer trips. Some lessons are just for
practice, but later they are more and more to meet the student's
needs. You work indoors, outdoors, and take buses. After a
while, you don't have to repeat lessons for practice. Just be
sure that the instructions are understood, and send them on
their way. My teacher ended the course by working us through a
3-1/2 mile hike around a section of the city. It gave us
students a true sense of accomplishment to be able to manage
that trip and what it had to offer. This seems like the time for
the teacher to say, "You don't need me any more.
Congratulations, and goodbye."

No One Has to Do Everything Perfectly

One of the things we all need to do is to find a doorway as we
walk beside a wall. Many of us slide the cane along at the angle
of the floor and wall until the cane hits the door frame. That
method works, but I want to point out its weaknesses. Traffic
patterns put us on the right side of the path; the wall is often
on our right; and most of us are right-handed. All that means
that we are not covering the body with the cane, thus leaving us
open to a collision. I shift the cane to the hand opposite the
wall to give myself at least some coverage, in case there is
something or someone in the way. Of course, Rule One says I
should continue tapping the cane from side to side to clear the
space in front of me, but with my stride of two-and-a-half feet
I will only touch the wall every five feet and miss a narrow
door. Sometimes I swing the cane in the hand away from the wall
and slide the near hand lightly along the wall. This last method
may be the best compromise.

When I lose track of where I am when I am walking around, and I
find someone of whom I can ask directions, my first question is,
"What's the name of this street?" I may know enough to find my
own way with that information. If I have not learned enough, I
ask, "How do I get to ...?" If I have to ask another person
later, I ask.

I am a poor judge of the distance ahead of my cane. I tend to
tap ankles and trip people. If I want to be sure, I have to give
myself far more space than I really need. It is even worse if
the person ahead is using a cane, and I hear the tap which is
five feet ahead of where they are.

When I am walking directly behind a guide as we pass through a
narrow space, I often step on the heels of my guide. I know you
are supposed to be able to tell which foot is forward by the
swing of the shoulders, but I don't always coordinate well. I
have to take very short steps to keep from stepping on them. It
keeps me out of step, but it also keeps my feet off of theirs.

I often have the bad habit of letting my head nod forward.
Didn't we all have a mother who said: "Keep your head up. Stand
up straight!" The practical reason for keeping my head up is to
avoid using it as a bumper. The cane is supposed to be the
bumper. It is supposed to be in front all the time. Better the
cane should get scars, not the body.

There are some days I always drift to the right and other days I
drift to the left. If paying more attention to the line of
traffic or to the shoreline doesn't help, I bring my cane hand
back to the middle of my body and concentrate on keeping the
swing of the cane even from side to side. "Back to basics"
straightens me out.

The first trip to almost any place usually includes lots of
exploration and false starts. Sometimes that continues for
several trips until I learn the local geography. If you can
learn faster than I can, more power to you.

There is one situation when I learned to look lost on purpose.
It is a crowded theater lobby during intermission when I am
trying to find the men's room. I take a few steps this way and
that way, then pause and look around with a confused expression
on my face. Pretty soon someone will offer help, at which point
I suddenly regain all my travel skills.

What About Other Travel Aids, Dogs and Electronics?

I tend to be a practical person. The rule is: "If it works for
you, use it." I was introduced first to the cane, and was
fortunate in that I had a good teacher. I learned to travel
independently, and it has served me very well.

There are blind people who travel well with a cane and those who
travel poorly with a cane. There are blind people who travel
well with a guide dog and those who travel poorly with a guide
dog. I will tell you what I know about dogs.

Any reputable guide dog school insists on giving travel training
along with the dog, and that is an advantage. Canes do not come
with training attached. A dog can offer companionship. A dog has
some memory of its own and may help in confusing or dangerous
situations. Dogs also make mistakes, just like their masters.
There is truth in all of these points. I like other people's
dogs, but I do not want the responsibilities of feeding,
grooming, curbing, and health care that go with owning a dog. If
it is right for you, do it. I think it is more important that
you get places conveniently and safely than how you get there.
It is the human that makes the difference, not the cane or the
dog.

Over the past several decades, I have heard of electronic travel
aids that were attached to the cane, attached to the forehead,
or held in the hand. Each one gave off its own sound or
vibration. Each one had advantages: locating objects at a
distance without touching them, locating obstacles above cane
level, being less "obvious", not always an advantage. They have
come, and they have gone, and the cane and the dog remain. I do
not mean to say that there will never be an electronic travel
device that lasts, but it seems to be over the horizon. The cane
and the dog have been here for many years and are still here.

8. Songs

The White Cane Freedom March

by Thomas Bickford, Debbie Brown, Lloyd Rasmussen and Ken

Silberman

To the Tune of: "As Those Caissons Go Rolling Along"

1. Over hill, over dale, we will hit the concrete trail;

As our white canes go tapping along.

Down the block, cross the street, walking on our own two feet;

As our white canes go tapping along.

On the job or at home, wherever we may roam, Yes, independent
and free! NFB!

We can find our way at night or in the day;

As our white canes go tapping along.

2. On a bus, on a train, even flying on a plane;

As our white canes go tapping along.

As we board, find our seat, no great danger shall we meet;

As our white canes go tapping along.

We're the able blind, so leave your carts behind.

Don't put us in your holding tanks! No thanks!

We'll meet no harm. Take back your helping arm.

As our white canes go tapping along.

3. On we go at full speed. No contraptions do we need;

As our white canes go tapping along.

No rough tiles for our feet, nor the traffic signal's tweet;

As our white canes go tapping along.

No Ph.D.'s, just skillful travelers, please, Teaching blind
people to be free! NFB!

And the rehab snobs can go and find real jobs;

As our white canes go tapping along.

The Lament of the Folding Cane

by Thomas Bickford

to the tune of

"A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody"

My folding cane was quite reliable

When it was still brand new.

I'd fold it and then swing it again.

I'd make it small, then use it all

The time, no matter when.

My folding cane is just a memory,

Now that it fell apart.

The elastic stretched and broke.

Four short canes are a joke,

And now my one-piece cane's the cane

That has won my heart.

Sources of Canes

In many cities there are organizations which sell white canes
that you may examine before you buy. The following nine
organizations sell canes through mail order catalogs. When you
compare the catalogs, you will find that even in this short list
some of the equipment comes from common sources. Most of these
organizations sell a wide variety of items besides canes, but
this booklet is concerned only with canes and related equipment.
Each catalog has more detail than this summary. You should
neither order from this summary nor consider it an endorsement.

American Foundation for the Blind, Product Center

100 Enterprise Place

P.O. Box 044

Dover, DE 19903-7044

800-829-0500

FAX: 800-676-3299

Products for People with Vision Problems

Rigid aluminum 24" to 56"

Folding aluminum 24" to 56"

Variety of replacement tips

Replacement sections for folding canes

Replacement elastic cord

Scotch-Lite replacement coating

Autofold

208 Coleman Street

P.O. Box 1063

Gardner, MA 01440-1063

508-632-0667

FAX: 508-630-3303

CompuServe: 76226,1414

Canes by Autofold

Support folding 33" and 36"

Support folding 39" (reduceable)

Fiberglass 56" and 59"

Cutting fixture

Folding aluminum 34" to 60"

Cable cane 34" to 60"

Folding fiberglass

Variety of replacement tips

Replacement cords

Replacement handles and loops

Replacement tube sections

Reflective tape

The Lighthouse, Inc., Low Vision Products

34-20 Northern Boulevard

Long Island City, NY 11101

800-453-4923

Consumer Catalog

Folding support 33" and 36"

Folding aluminum 34" to 60"

Variety of replacement tips

LS&S Group, Inc.

1808-27 Janke Drive

Northbrook, IL 60062

708-498-9777

800-468-4789

FAX: 708-498-1482

Folding support 33" and 36"

Folding aluminum 32" to 60"

Rigid aluminum 36" to 60"

Maxi-Aids

42 Executive Boulevard

Farmingdale, NY 11735

800-522-6294

Voice/TDD 516-752-0521

FAX: 516-752-0689

Aids and Appliances

Folding support 33" and 36"

Adjustable aluminum support, 29" to 38"

Folding aluminum 34" to 62"

Rigid aluminum 36" to 60"

Telescopic aluminum

Rigid fiberglass 30" to 64"

National Federation of the Blind, Materials Center

1800 Johnson Street

Baltimore, MD 21230

410-659-9314

Aids and Appliances

Wooden support 35", 39", 42"

Folding metal support 33" and 36"

Rigid hollow fiberglass 24" to 65"

Telescoping fiberglass 45" to 67"

Repair kit for bottom section of telescoping fiberglass

Folding fiberglass 52" to 66"

Rigid hollow carbon fiber 49" to 65"

Telescoping carbon fiber 39" to 65"

Folding metal 44" to 56"

Variety of replacement tips

Rainshine Company

158 Jackson Street

Madison, WI 53704

608-259-8231

Rigid fiberglass 30" to 64"

Replacement tips

SenseSations

Associated Services for the Blind

919 Walnut Street

Philadelphia, PA 19107

215-617-0600

SenseSations

Folding aluminum support 33" and 36"

Folding aluminum 42" to 56"

Rigid aluminum 44" to 54"

Variety of replacement tips

Replacement elastic cord

Replacement cane sections

Replacement wrist loop

Scotch-Lite reflective tape

Minor adjustments of equipment

Vis-Aids

102-09 Jamaica Avenue

P.O. Box 26

Richmond Hills, NY 11418

718-847-4734

800-346-9579

FAX: 718-441-2550

Folding aluminum 34" to 60"

Telescoping adjustable aluminum 46" to 54"

Tip assembly for folding cane

Variety of replacement tips

White Cane Industries for the Blind

Route 3, Box 89A

Jenkins, MO 65605

417-574-6368

Aluminum folding 36" to 60"

Aluminum rigid 36" to 60"

Special order variations

Return used canes for repair

Variety of replacement tips

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Benson, Stephen. So What About Independent Travel. The Braille
Monitor, January, 1985, pp 30-40.

Blasch, B. B., Long, R. G., and Griffin, Shirley N. Results of a
National Survey of Electronic Travel Aid Use. Journal of Visual
Impairment and Blindness, November, 1989, v. 33, n 9, pp 449-453.

Dodds, A. G., and Davis, D. P. Assessment and Training of Low
Vision Clients for Mobility. Journal of Visual Impairment and
Blindness, November, 1989, v 83, n 9, pp 439-446.

Kruger, Irving J. Orientation and Mobility in the Vocational
Area. New Outlook for the Blind, March, 1960, v 54, n 3, pp
87-90.

National Conference on Mobility and Orientation: (Introduction),
New Outlook for the Blind, March, 1960, v 54, n 3, pp 77-81.

Nichols, Allan. Why Use the Long White Cane? The Braille
Monitor, February, 1992, pp 54-58.

Pogrund, R. L., and Rosen, S. J. The Preschool Blind Child Can
be a Cane User. Journal of Visual Impairment and Blindness,
November, 1989, v 83, n 9, pp 431-439.

Rusalem, Herbert. The Dilemma in Training Mobility Instructors.
New Outlook for the Blind, March, 1960, v 54, n 3, pp 82-87.

Sauerberger, Dona. Cane Technique: Tricks of the Trade.
Metropolitan Washington Orientation and Mobility Association
Newsletter, March, 1992.

Sauerberger, Dona. Readers' Comments on Teaching Cane
Techniques. Metropolitan Washington Orientation and Mobility
Association Newsletter, May, 1992, pp 3-4.

Wainapel, S. F. Attitudes of Visually Impaired Persons Toward
Cane Use. Journal of Visual Impairment and Blindness, November,
1989, v 83, n 9, pp 446-448.

Whitstock, Robert H. Orientation and Mobility for Blind
Children. New Outlook for the Blind, March, 1960, v 54, n 3, pp
90-94.

Willoughby, Doris, and Duffy, Sharon. Handbook for Itinerant and
Resource Teachers of Blind and Visually Impaired Students.
Baltimore: National Federation of the Blind, 1989.

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