2007 - Vol. 4, Issue 2

Full–time dad and husband, part–time advocate and writer/philosopher — a morning person whose favorite day of the week is Wednesday and whose "words of wisdom" to share with Breath & Shadow readers are: "Liquor to beer, never fear. Beer to liquor, never sicker" — these are some of the ways 44–year–old Chris Kuell describes himself. A former research chemist who lost his sight at 35 from diabetic retinopathy, Chris is the dynamic volunteer editor who's been filling in admirably for Sharon while she's needed extra help. I was lucky enough to be asked to write a few words about him.

Chris lives in Danbury, Connecticut, with his wife and their 14–year–old son and 11–year–old daughter. Born in Massachusetts, he grew up mainly in Sharonville, Ohio, a suburb of Cincinnati that he describes as "pretty much average America."

"We were upper–middle class, and my parents exemplified the ideal they were taught in the '50s," he says.

Chris did well in school academically — "If not behaviorally," he says — and developed a fondness for science at an early age. "I enjoyed building things, blowing things up with a yard–sale chemistry set — things like that."

During his senior year in high school, Chris got a job in a lab at a small company that produced flavors and fragrances. "The work was very interesting, the chemists were well paid, and I had found a career path," he says. He started college at Xavier University in Cincinnati, then transferred to the University of Lowell in Massachusetts after his father moved to a new job in that state. "I found a job as a polymer technician while at U Lowell, and got my BS in Chemistry in 1985. From there, I went to the University of Vermont, learned to ski and got my Ph.D. in Chemistry in 1990."

Chris and his family have lived in Danbury, in a home built in 1913, for about 17 years. "I have the two best kids in the world," Chris says. "If I didn't know better, I might think someone was doing a pretty good job parenting them." The family has two cats, Salem and Karl, and all joking aside, Chris is the stay–at–home dad who takes care of house, garden, kids, and pets.

He also pursues his passions: reading, advocating for blind people, and working on his career as a fiction writer. Chris became totally blind in October 1997 as a result of diabetic retinopathy, one of the long–term complications of diabetes, which he has had since age nine. "I lost my sight gradually over three years, first in my right eye, then in my left, and endured several surgeries and procedures worthy of a Stephen King novel along the way," Chris says.

He calls blindness a "unique disability, in that my mind and body are fit. My eyes don't work, which means I do things differently and sometimes take longer, but there's very little I can't do." He cooks, cleans, mows his lawn, painted his two–story house, built his kids a tree fort, travels solo to different states for conferences — "and yet people who don't know me are amazed when I can tie my own shoes," he says.

Chris said that at first, the loss of his sight devastated him and his wife. He lost his job and many of his former colleagues at work. "With time, and a lot of reflection, we rose out of it," he says. "My wife used to pray that I'd see again, and today I do see again, just not with my eyes. I see human interaction, suffering, wasted time and resources all differently. I see character, not bling. I see people in need, and have little patience for superficiality."

He adds, "Before I lost my sight, I'd never met a blind person. Now, through my advocacy work, I know hundreds. I went from being one of the guys, to a permanent place outside the circle. I'm the neighborhood blind guy, and everybody is friendly, but distant."

But Chris has spent little time feeling sorry for himself. He is serious about his hobbies, foremost of which is reading. "Reading to me is more than a hobby, it's a passion. I read about 80 books a year," Chris says. He has always enjoyed gardening and continues taking care of his family's vegetable gardens while his wife handles the flowers. "I also enjoy woodworking and doing projects around the house," he says. "My wife freaks out every time I use the compound miter saw, but I'm actually a lot more careful with power tools now that I'm blind. The last thing I want to do is lose a finger."

Chris's sense of humor comes through again and again. He loves to travel, and says, "Right before I lost my sight, I purchased an impromptu trip to the Grand Canyon because I wanted to see it in case I went blind." When asked the color of his bedroom carpet, he says, "Our bedroom was supposed to be mauve, but apparently my wife picked more of a pink. I've heard friends refer to it as the Barbie Bedroom, or the inside of a Pepto–Bismol bottle. Put a check in the Benefits of Blindness column."

But Chris is 100 percent serious about his advocacy work. "The only time I think of myself as disabled is when I'm fighting with legislators to improve things for blind people," he says. "That's when I pull out the 75–percent unemployment statistic, the below–average literacy rates, and the need for better training."

He's also serious about his burgeoning writing career. He started writing about issues that affect blind people in 1999, and he's had essays appear in Abilities, The Braille Monitor, Dialogue, and The Federationist, as well as in several newspapers and on the web at enablelink.com. Self–taught, he tries to help other writers with his critiques.

"While I enjoy writing nonfiction, my real passion is for fiction, and that's where I've put most of my efforts," he says. In addition to Breath & Shadow, Chris has had short stories published in Spillway Review, Apollo's Lyre, Gambit, Mountain Echoes, and in the anthology, Mountain Voices: Illuminating the Character of West Virginia.

Chris had two short stories published in Breath & Shadow just last year. As a contributing writer, he received a notice last May that the journal was looking for some assistant editors. "I thought it would be a good learning experience, so I volunteered," he says. And he's quickly become an indispensable member of the staff, even taking over a number of editorial duties temporarily on behalf of editor, Sharon Wachsler. As busy as he is with these and all of his other projects, I have no doubt that Chris Kuell will keep working with humor and determination until he makes his dreams come true.