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8 PCB007 MAGAZINE I NOVEMBER 2019 I was eight years old; it was early in the school year, and I was attending a new school. My family had just moved across town—just a couple miles, but enough to change my world. I was still learning the names of my classmates and mapping out the school in my head. One day in my physical education class, Mr. Den- ley, the PE teacher, administered eye exams to the class. One after the other, kids toed the line, covered an eye with one hand, and mim- icked the rotated "Es" on the eye chart with the fin- gers of their other hand. Then, it was my turn. Oddly enough, those "Es" weren't very read- able from the "line of truth." I knew I couldn't make out the chart from the back of the huddle of kids, but I had expected things would be clearer once I had a proper view. The unpleasant surprise grew into a minor grade school panic. I was morti- fied. Why couldn't I read the eye chart? Every kid in my class watched me struggle with incorrect guesses and saw me fail. I said nothing to my parents; I just tried to forget that it ever happened. They never said anything, so I thought I had gotten away with it. However, a few days later, Mom pulled me out of school early. We drove to the local uni- versity and met some really cool college stu- dents who, I learned, were studying to be op- tometrists. They had me look through some weird machines and try on ugly glasses that they built up for me by putting a bunch of lens- es together in a clamp. Those glasses weighed a ton! Next, Mom took me to a different room, and we played with the eyeglass frames that were displayed on the wall. Then, we went home. About a week later, Mom and I drove out to the university again right after school. I sat in a big lab room that held about a dozen work sta- tions. Each table had a crockpot full of sand on it and a vanity mirror. One of the students from my first visit greeted me, and we sat down at the table. He had a pair of frames and lenses, which he said were for me. He tested them on my face, and then heated the frames in the sand to bend them to fit me comfortably. Then, he leaned back a little and said, "Look around a bit. How do they work?" I looked across the room. I was shocked by the details I could see. I blurted, "Mom, am I sup- posed to be able to see the wall sockets way over there?" "Yes, Nolan, you are." I could feel the begin- nings of tears welling up in my eyes. "Do you suppose my batting is going to im- prove?" I asked. "Yes, I suppose so," she almost whispered. On the drive home, there was all this new information that I hadn't seen before right in front of me. I was so excited that I read ev- ery sign and license plate out loud. I'm sure Nolan's Notes by Nolan Johnson, I-CONNECT007 Clarity of Vision

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