Eyeglass Donation to Lions Club is Particularly Special on 'Special Needs Day'

It was during the annual Proud American Days celebration that members of the New Lenox Lions Club gathered to host what's known as "Special Needs Day"—an afternoon dedicated to local children and adults with special needs along with their families. 

Between 700-800 people, mostly from Lincoln Way Special Recreation Association and Trinity Services, were treated to a free lunch, carnival rides and dancing.

The Lions Club is recognized internationally for its hands-on volunteer efforts, particularly in regard to collecting and distributing used eyeglasses to those who lack the resources to attain a custom prescription that allows them to see clearly.

While covering the event for New Lenox Patch—conducting interviews with Lions Club Event Chair Lynn Eckhardt, parents, volunteers and staff members from LWSRA—I took out my camera and zoomed-in with a telephoto lens to capture two-dimensional images of what a healthy human spirit can achieve.

Before I left this celebration of fun, music and laughter, I remembered that I had brought a pair of eyeglasses to be donated to someone, somewhere who needed a helping hand. I grabbed a pair of eyeglasses that I had protected in a ziplock plastic bag and donated them.

They weren't just any pair of eyeglasses. The flimsy wire frames weighed less than an ounce but were heavy with memories. They belonged to my brother-in-law, Jim Haertel. At the age of 61, he succumbed recently to a three-year battle with pancreatic cancer.

With those eyeglasses Jim saw enumerable ways to help others. He was no two-dimensional figure. As a former elder-care consultant for attorneys, he zoomed-in on ways to protect the life savings of senior citizens and to preserve their dignity in the autumn of their lives. I don't know the ins and outs of his small business, but I do know that individual attorneys and attorney group practices sent vases and vases of flowers that lined the walls of a Springfield, IL funeral home during his memorial service. Throngs of people, young and old, waited to tell my sister, Jane, how much they had appreciated his vision for helping others.

I remember seeing Jim in his office. He'd be busy talking on the telephone with an attorney client, flipping through files on the computer and feverishly taking notes. The eyeglasses would begin to slip down his nose, and without thinking, he'd push them back up with his index finger.

With those signature eyeglasses, he volunteered as the business manager for the small Christian church he attended in Petersburg, IL. He'd make sure that the bookkeeping was accurate and deposits were made at the bank.

On the home front, the clear glass lenses would go dark when he'd step out to a sunny baseball field to watch the grandchildren play ball. No they weren't his biological grandchildren. My sister and he had married later life. They were her grandchildren and he adopted them fully in spirit.

I remember how his 6-foot-2-inch frame gave him a bird's eye view when he'd join the line along the parade route each August at the Illinois State Fair in Springfield to watch my girls participate with the Lincoln-Way Central Marching Knights.

Jim didn't see the world as black and white. He saw and acted on a vision of how he could help others, love others and laugh with others.

After his death on June 23, 2012, my sister handed me his eyeglasses  and asked me to make sure that they were used to continue his self-giving legacy. I couldn't think of any better way to respond than to donate those eyeglasses to the Lions Club. I hope whoever receives them sees his or her way through to helping others too.

It was tough to keep back tears when I handed that pair of eyeglasses to Lions Club President Mike Thorne. This is the way I found to honor my brother-in-law, a man I had the privilege of knowing and loving for 20-plus years. He could see the good in the world, and he saw a way to make it a better place.