Accessibilty
Father Tasto,
Last Sunday my
family and I decided to come back to church. We were members of St. Thomas for
at least 3 years and attended regularly until the birth of my third son. Life
got in the way and went hadn’t been back on a regular basis for a good three
years. Occasionally my husband and my oldest son, who’s eight would attend
mass. After having a pleasurable experience at our in-laws church in Fond du
Lac Wisconsin, we decided it was time to get the family back to church on a
regular basis.
We loaded everyone into the van and drove to the 11 a.m.
mass. We arrived and unloaded from the van. When we got to the entrance, we
headed straight to the elevator, as our 6 year old is profoundly disabled and
requires a wheelchair for mobility. My husband waited in front of the elevator
while I escorted my four and eight year old to the main level. My boys were
actually very excited to go to church, we waited for my husband and other son
by the elevator. After a few minutes, a boy handing out programs informed me
that the elevator was broken. My boys and I went to the front entrance because
I thought surely there was a ramp entrance. Out of all the many doors to enter
the church, none of these was accessible without the elevator. By that time my
husband had met us on the front walkway where we were faced with about fourteen
steps to climb.
Unfortunately I
am not strong enough to help my husband lift the chair up the steps.
The thing that
struck me the most that morning was the fact that as I stood with my family, I
watched as my fellow parishioners walked by us. No one gave us a second glance.
I would normally go inside and ask for help lifting the wheelchair. But because
others were not concerned with our plight I was very discouraged. I started to
cry on the front walkway as people continued to walk by us. My tears turned to
many; this was not the first time my son in the wheelchair had been left out.
My eight year old held my hand and told me it would be okay.
No one offered
help, or even inquired what was wrong.
We walked back
to our van and went home.
I write this not
to inform you of a problem with the building’s accessibility issues, but more
to inform you of your parishioners lack of compassion. I am not one to judge
others nor do I expect too much from anyone else. But I would hope that if I
was on my way to church and I saw a mother crying with a son in a wheelchair at
the base of the stairs, someone would stop and offer some kind of assistance.
Surely not getting to church on time can be forgiven if you are helping someone
get there too.
Thank you for
your time.
Sincerely yours,
Sue Sullivan
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