Right Place, Right Time
In his recently published book, Vision: A Memoir of Blindness and Justice, Judge David Tatel, recently retired Circuit Court Judge, writes about vision and optimism in a way readers might not, at first expect. In addition to his long career as a lawyer, and nearly 3 decades on the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, Judge Tatel lost his vision in his early 30’s from a progressive eye condition called Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP). Tatel’s memoir includes, of course, his vision loss, but it is more a timely reflection on his career in Civil Rights legislation, his enduring love affair with his wife Edie, reflections on the state of our democracy and the role of the judicial system in it, and a chapter on his latest love affair with Vixen, a guide dog he acquired within the past several years.
The words, “Right place, right time,” appear seven times throughout the book, beginning as he described an opportunity to write a brief for the Chicago Urban League in a case against school desegregation, which his firm ultimately won in 1968. “School desegregation was exactly the kind of issue I’d hoped to work on as a lawyer and I couldn’t believe I was getting a chance to start so soon,” he writes. It was just such issues, that propelled Tatel’s career to include such highlights as Director of the Office of Civil Rights, during the Carter administration, and ultimately an appointment to the U.S. Circuit Court by President Clinton, to replace Judge Ruth Bader Ginsburg, following her appointment to the Supreme Court. Another right place, right time.
Even vision loss and blindness find their way into Tatel’s algorithm of optimism. “I was fortunate not to lose my sight until I was an adult with a solid professional track record. I’d already succeeded at two universities, a law firm, and Lawyer’s Committee. I already had mentors and role models who cared about my success. It didn’t hurt that I’ve always liked gadgets and technology. And over and over, I’d been in the right place at the right time.”
Throughout the book, Tatel is quick to point out the opportunities that appeared both in his career, and during the adjustment to his vision loss—attributing his success to family, employers, a reader he used for years, and random strangers. “I often benefitted from the kindness of strangers who noticed by plight. To all of those Good Samaritans who helped me get where I was going: Thank you.” In one such account, Tatel recalls a teen-age boy who found him looking for a taxi stand in a parking lot in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn and trying to hail a garbage truck. Without saying a word about his vision, the young boy walked with him, chatting about sports and weather, to an intersection where he was able to catch a cab back to the airport. For those readers, like Tatel, with a vision loss acquired late in life, this will be familiar territory. Like many, Tatel admits reluctance to asking for help, acknowledging his blindness, putting off using a white cane to travel, and all the other humbling obstacles that often accompany an adjustment to a vision loss.
Yes, eyesight and making a transition to raising a family and working with a vision loss, and later blindness is certainly a part of David Tatel’s memoir, but it is not the central ‘vision’ for Tatel’s memoir, It is about his perspective, after years in the judicial system, of what the role of judges are in our democracy—as neutral examiners of facts and historical precedence, and their limitations in appointed roles, as opposed to an elected role, like that of Congress. Here, Tatel’s vision is focused squarely on his concern with recent rulings by the Supreme Court and the impact of voting rights legislation on the future of democracy.
In the final chapter, “The Dog Who Changed My Life,” before the Epilogue, Tatel shares how his guide dog, Vixen, from Fidelco, continues to impact his life and add independence to his life-long partnership with Edie, in ways that were unimaginable to him. After reading the memoir, it may come as no surprise that Tatel was a late comer to a guide dog, in his late 70s, because for much of his life and career, he appeared to treat vision loss as an inconvenience. In this chapter, he shares the details of applying for a guide dog, the training involved, and how he and Edie adjusted to the new-found independence Vixen added to their lives. He writes of Vixen, “I love her like a best friend. I talk to her…She listens closely as I tell her about a legal question or ask her opinion about a case.” It is clearly a bond that is transformative, and this reader imagines, an opportunity that came as a surprising relationship of great depth that arose from an unexpected place. Intended or not, this unexpected addition to Tatel’s life, nearing retirement, seems like a fitting way to conclude a memoir full of candid reflections on career, the state of our judicial system in the midst of partisanship, and navigating a progressive vision loss with family. Vixen too clearly came in the right place at the right time.
Vision: A Memoir of Vision and Blindness by David S. Tatel on Audible; narrated by John Lescault. Also available from NLS Talking Books, BARD, and Bookshare.
Vision Loss and Justice, an interview with retired Judge David S. Tatel on Hadley Presents.