A Blind Man Sees Red, White And Blue Again

Groucho Marx once said, "Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."

For the past decade, I have been inside the dog.

I was born legally blind in the 1950s. But some 10 years ago, I developed cataracts. Almost overnight I was transformed from being able to spot things up close to what ophthalmologists describe as seeing "hand motion only." I couldn't count fingers. My world was devoid of light. Color was more and more a distant memory.

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