Gaillard in Deaf America: A Portrait of the Deaf Community 1917

PITTSBURGH With the Warmest Memories

118 H PITTSBURGH With the Warmest Memories Frank R. Gray In order not to subject ourselves to the fatigue of a long train trip by night to Philadelphia, we decided to stop in Pittsburgh and spend a few evening hours there before sleeping at a hotel. It was also our intention to meet Frank R. Gray, a remarkable deaf man who knows French, has translated many of our articles and, in particular, has informed Americans about the celebrated inquest of Alfred Binet and Dr. Simon into the failure of the pure oral method. We had forewarned Mr. Gray by telegram. But our train was almost a full hour late. So that when we arrived we searched in vain in the huge hall but found no one. We were on the point of leaving to get a hotel but decided to look one more time while signing among ourselves in order to attract attention. For my part, I looked closely at those who might resemble Mr. Gray, whose features I remembered from a photograph. Suddenly M. Pilet pointed out a gentleman who was walking slowly as if waiting for someone and whose bearded appearance was close to that which I recalled. I went up to him and we suddenly rec- ognized each other, even though we had only seen each other’s face in photographs. Mr. Gray took us to one of the best hotels where an excellent meal was still available to us. And then we began to talk. Mr. Gray had graduated from Gallaudet College and had a master of science degree. He is perhaps the only deaf person in the whole world to be engaged in astronomy. He is employed by an agency that assures the quality control of optical instruments , telescopes, spectacles, lenses, and other objects of scientific investigation. He is also a talented writer. He chairs the Pittsburgh Association of the Deaf. However, the state of his health no longer allows him to devote himself so generously to such activity. Yet he had wanted to do something to receive us, such as arranging a meeting with the city’s deaf. At a minimum he would now take us to the association’s premises in the hope that there might be some people present, even though Saturday evening was otherwise the favorite time to go there. The Empty Club A short stroll through the brilliantly lit streets, with skyscrapers rising into the night, brought us to a darker part of the city by a river that freshened us up a bit after the oppressive heat. Here was a large office building, rising two stories above a wide staircase , with glass doors, on one of which was printed “Society of Deaf-Mutes.” Mr. Gray had a key and we entered. He pressed a button and electric light flowed over us, revealing two rooms, sufficiently spacious to serve the club’s needs. In one was a billiard table, in the other, tables and chairs. On the walls were pictures , photographs of groups of deaf people, and a large blackboard on which Mr. Gray wrote: “The French delegates were here, but there was nobody home.” I, in turn, wrote in English our greetings and fraternal best wishes. I still don’t know what impression these lines may have made on the deaf of PittsWITH THE WARMEST MEMORIES 119 burgh. For his part, Mr. Gray, in The Deaf-Mutes’ Journal, expressed his concern over what impression we might have had of his huge city, a gigantic worker community continuously engaged in the labors of the Cyclops. He can rest easy on that count. We had a good chance to look around. And we were deeply touched, in our French hearts, to see, as we made our way back to the hotel, groups of young people marching in the streets with American and French flags, in support of the war for liberty, while others, in front of the offices of a newspaper, dripping with electric lines, were impatiently waiting for the paper to learn whether they had been drafted, conscription being operated on a lottery basis. When we took the 7 a.m. express train for Philadelphia, Mr. Gray was there, despite his fatigue, to see us off. We thank him with the warmest memories. 120 PITTSBURGH ...