CONWAY, S.C. -- A single tear sneaks out of the corner of Levern Wilson's right eye and slides stealthily down his cheek, out beyond his dark glasses. It's not big enough, doesn't have enough juice from the despair, to escape his cheek and drop onto his shoulder, lingering only as a glistening trail that many people would never see.
You don't notice it at first because you're so busy listening to his words about his latest struggle with his identity, a lifelong challenge, and the resonance of his deep voice.
"You wonder 'How do they look at me now?'" he says of family, friends and acquaintances. "I'm the guy that solved the problems."
Two years ago, Wilson, 68, lost the final spark in a 14-year campaign against failing eyesight, the last speck of light leaving him forever.
He's been through the suicide thing, through the search for a lifeline and has come to a point where he can bow his head at his Thanksgiving meal today to talk truly to God about what he's thankful for.
"I'm thankful for my wife that sticks by my side and my daughter that drives me around," Wilson says. "I'm thankful for my [National Federation of the Blind] chapter and that they believe in me so much."
To appreciate the depth of his words, you need to understand the soul they're coming from and the history of the voice speaking them.
Wilson was born in Williamsburg County in 1942 and grew up in a time when a whole group of people never called him anything but "Boy."
Read more: http://www.thesunnews.com/2010/11/25/1832750/a-light-to-others.html#ixzz16JoSL2tI
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