WONDERFUL TOM STRINGER

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · May 14, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 20.

WONDERFUL TOM STRINGER.

THE boy who has nothing but poverty between him and success in life, the boy who gets up well and strong three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, has no cause to feel that he is handicapped by his environment. Health and strength, with the full possession of sight and hearing and speech, are the best elements of success when they are combined with the manly determination to make the most of life. Boys who are inclined to feel discouraged by reason of mere poverty when they are well and strong, will find in the story of Tommy Stringer much that should encourage them, and that should inspire them to make the most of life.

This remarkable deaf, dumb, and blind boy has attracted world-wide attention, and he is a wonderful example of the progress made in recent years in teaching deaf, dumb, and blind children. Fortunately one does not often hear of children having this triple affliction.

Nor was Tommy Stringer thus afflicted when he first came into the world. He was born on July 3, 1886, near Waynesburg, Pa., so that now he is in his sixteenth year. When he was about two years old, an acute attack of spinal meningitis deprived him of sight and hearing and the power of speech. His parents were very poor, and soon after Tommy's terrible illness he lost his mother. His father then succeeded in having the afflicted boy put into a hospital in Allegheny City, Pa., and here the boy, contrary to the ordinary rules of hospitals, remained for three years, and here it was that he made the acquaintance of his devoted friend, Helen Keller. She was visiting in Allegheny City when she heard of the little boy afflicted like herself, and her generous and sympathetic nature prompted her to do all she could for Tom's relief. It is possible that if it had not been for the interest and generosity of Helen Keller and others, Tom would have been sent from the hospital to the poorhouse.

Money was finally raised to send the boy to the noted kindergarten for the blind in Boston. He was about five years old at this time, and he was the merest baby in intelligence. It is not exaggerating his condition to say that he did not know anything. He was so weak that he could not walk, and he seemed more like a little animal than a boy. He did not know how to make any effort to do anything for himself, and his condition was pitiable in the extreme. His mind was as undeveloped as the mind of a baby a day old, and fifty years ago it would have been regarded as impossible to teach him anything, and he would have been left to his animal-like condition. It is due to such men as Dr. Howe and Horace Mann that progress has been made in teaching the deaf and dumb and blind.

Teachers of blind and dumb children must have infinite patience and strong human sympathies. Great patience and sympathy and forbearance were required in teaching poor little Tom Stringer the first principles of education. It was so hard to make a beginning. Of course the sign or finger language was used.

The first word he ever learned was the word “bread,” and he was nearly a year learning that one word. Every time he was given a slice of bread the word “bread” was made in his hand by his teacher, and his own fingers were made to form the letters of the word in the hand of his teacher. Then other objects, like a ball, a book, and a hat, were put into his hands, and their names spelled in the finger language by his teacher in Tom's hands. Then he was made to spell them with his own fingers. Days and days would be spent in the spelling of a single word before Tom could spell it himself. Then very short sentences were formed, and slowly the dormant mind of the boy was aroused. Once fully aroused, it proved to be a very alert mind; and while he did not have the mental alertness of Helen Keller, he showed that he had at least the mental capacity of the average boy, and that he had more mechanical skill than most boys. If ever there was a nimble-fingered boy, that boy is Tommy Stringer. In this respect he is superior to Helen Keller, who is rather awkward with her fingers, altho her sense of touch is astonishing.

Before Tom was seven years of age he was beginning to read by means of the raised letters used by the blind. Then he began to learn to write by means of what is called the Braille system. The modern methods of teaching the dumb and blind were employed, and at fifteen years of age Tom is as far advanced in reading, history, grammar, physiology, botany, and arithmetic as the average boy of his age.

He is far beyond the kindergarten in his education, and he now attends a public school. A teacher from the kindergarten goes with him to act as his interpreter, and there is not a more industrious nor a happier boy in the school than Tom. If you think his triple affliction has made Tom downhearted or morose, you are greatly mistaken.

Tom amazed his teacher by his skill with tools. He is a born mechanic, and he is never so happy as when he is at his work-bench. He can hammer and nail and saw with more swiftness and accuracy than the average man, and he is a most painstaking workman No half-done work for Tom. If a piece of board ought to be smooth, Tom never stops planing and sand-papering it until it is just as smooth as it can be. He is quick to detect the least defect in his work, and he will not rest until that defect is remedied. He will undo a piece of work half a dozen times, and do it over again and again until it is as perfect as it can be made.

He does not ask for any concessions because of his blindness. In fact, he never makes any reference to the fact that he is blind, and his teachers never refer to the fact. It was not until a year or two ago that Tom knew that he was different from other boys. He supposed that no one saw or heard, but the discovery of his great unlikeness to other boys, while it sobered him for the time, did not depress or discourage him, and he has never been heard to make any complaint about it.

One may see at the kindergarten a great variety of things Tom has made at his work-bench. He has made boxes and coat racks and shovels and models of engines and cars, but his most pretentious and surprising achievement has been a model of a house. This model is a surprise to all who see it, so complete is it in every detail. It is composed of various kinds of wood. Tom makes his nose take the place of his eyes when he wants to distinguish one kind of wood from another. So acute is his sense of smell, that he can name any kind of wood he picks up if he has ever smelled it before. He can take a rough piece of board and convert it into a box or a rack or a fancy shelf without the least assistance from any one.

Like Helen Keller, Tom has been taught to articulate, but he has not made nearly such rapid progress in speaking orally as Helen Keller has, because he has no interest in articulate speech. The finger language is far more agreeable to him, and he would never use any other method of speech if he were not compelled to do so. He has also been taught to read the speech of others by placing his wonderfully sensitive fingers on their lips, but this method of knowing what others are saying Tom also declares to be “no good,” and he does not like it. He is sometimes inclined to be a little stubborn in regard to speaking orally, and his teachers have to use a good deal of tact in getting him to “keep sweet” and articulate at the same time. Strangers would not readily understand many of his words, but some of them are distinct, and his teachers have no difficulty in understanding all that Tom says.—Philadelphia Times.