Mrs. Jacobs settled into the front row of folding chairs in the all-purpose room in the Community Center that hosted the monthly meetings of the Town Council. The rickety metal chair groaned under her weight as she settled into it.
The all-purpose room was painted an out-of-date mint green and the brown and gray checkerboard linoleum floor had clearly seen better days. Mrs. Jacobs wasn't sure if she should be appalled by the state of the place, or pleased that the Council had saved so much money by apparently having not updated anything since at least the nineteen sixties.
At the front of the room an aide was setting up the folding table and microphone where the Council members would sit. To Mrs. Jacob's right was a woman in an electric wheelchair, wedged into a spot where two of the metal chairs had been removed to make room.
"Hello," Mrs. Jacobs nodded a greeting to the occupant of the wheelchair. The woman, also middle aged, smiled and said hello in return. "I'm here to let the Council know that I still haven't gotten satisfaction from my landlord." She announced, as if Mrs. Jacobs should already know the backstory. "Oh?" Mrs. Jacobs said, not knowing how else to respond.
"Curb cuts." The woman nodded. "They're supposed to add a curb cut by my handicapped parking space so I can get to my apartment, but they still haven't done it." Her tone implied this was ongoing ordeal.
"Well, that's just awful." Mrs. Jacob's commiserated warmly. "My late husband, Joseph, used a wheelchair at the end. We had to have a ramp built. I can't even imagine trying to get him over the curb when he was in his chair.
The woman in the wheelchair introduced herself as Laura, and asked "What are you here for?"
"Oh, I came tonight to speak about the proposed group home being planned on Elm Street."
Laura's eyebrows lowered. "Are you here to complain about it? I certainly hope not because everyone needs somewhere to live, you know. Even the handicapped."
"Quite the contrary," Mrs. Jacobs replied. "I'm in full favor of it, which is what I came to say. Some of my neighbors have been very uncharitable, indeed, concerning the proposal. I live on Sycamore; it crosses over Elm."
Laura's scowl retreated. "I'm so glad to hear you support the plan. It's deplorable the way able bodied people judge those of us who require some sort of accommodation to participate in society on an equal footing."
"My husband worked his whole career in the trades. Through the local he got involved with "Lift for a Vet," have you heard of it? No? It's a program where volunteers install stair lifts in the homes of veterans." Mrs. Jacobs fished a roll of mints out of her purse and unwrapped one and popped it into her mouth before offering one to Laura. "Joseph was very moved by the plights of the veterans he got to meet. It opened his eyes to how un-accessible so much of our society is to the differently abled." She put the roll of mints back into her purse. "He passed away last winter, so I'm here today on his behalf. I know if were alive, he would have wanted to speak up."
Laura reached over and patted Mrs. Jacob's hand. "Your Joseph sounds like a real gem. My ex, Louis, on the other hand, what a jerk!"
"Your chair is quite something. Is it electric? The one we had for Joseph was manual. Yours looks much more advanced."
"It is, yes. I just got it not that long ago, actually. It has some great features." Laura flipped a switch, turning on a set of headlamps Mrs. Jacobs hadn't noticed. "It's got both high beams and low beams," Laura demonstrated, flipping the high beams off and on while Mrs. Jacob's watched in admiration.
"Ahem!" Someone coughed loudly from the front of the room. "Do you mind?"
Laura and Mrs. Jacobs looked up simultaneously to see the row of now-seated Council members using their hands or the printout of the meeting agenda to shield their eyes from Laura's very-bright high beams.
"Oh! So sorry!" Laura apologized, suppressing a grin as she flipped the lights off again. She leaned towards Mrs. Jacobs and whispered loudly "I'm not that sorry. This is my third time coming here to get the run around while nothing gets done."
Mrs. Jacobs clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling out loud as the dazed Council members rubbed their eyes and blinked.
"Will you have time to grab a coffee after the meeting?" Laura asked as the council meeting was called to order.
Mrs. Jacobs smiled at her new friend and sat up straighter in her creaky seat. "Coffee sounds great. We can toast to the new group home."
