‘The Miracle Worker’ and Helen Keller

Yesterday, William Gibson’s play The Miracle Worker, which is based on the life of Helen Keller and her faithful companion Anne Sullivan (the miracle worker), was shown at the FEU auditorium by the President’s Committee on Culture headed by executive director Dr. Rustica Carpio.

On Sept. 8 and 9 (both at 9:30 a.m. and 2:30 p.m.), and Sept. 10 (7:30 p.m.), the play will be staged at the James Reuter theater.

Hopefully, for a deeper appreciation of the play, I am reproducing from my book Above the Throng excerpts of my interview of Helen Keller when I was a neophyte reporter. Ms. Keller then was not with Anne Sullivan but with Polly Thompson who, like her predecessor, dedicated her life to guiding Ms. Keller. Here with the excerpts.

Helen Keller has been both deaf and blind for more than 73 years. Yet, she "sees" and "hears" more than the average person. And she is infinitely happier.

There is always a faint trace of a smile on her face, and the smile often breaks out into childlike laughter.

Her countenance has the serenity of one completely at peace with the world, the brightness of one fully aware of and responsive to everything about her, and the kindliness of one who would wish to share her joy at being alive.

Many interviews have been granted by celebrated personalities but what the 75-year old Dr. Keller gave will remain unique. It was carried on in this manner:

Polly Thompson, her interpreter and companion since 1936, would enunciate the question slowly and carefully. Dr. Keller, one hand over Ms. Thompson’s mouth, would repeat each word after her. Often, she would miss several words, but her intelligence and perception were such that from a few key words, she could derive the gist of sentence after sentence.

Often, Ms. Thompson would complete the question by "spelling" them out on the palm of Helen’s outstretched right hand (the device is known as the Manual Alphabet), making a few quick gestures.

To the questions, Dr. Keller would reply in short, halting sentences or words. Her attempt to speak sounded like the strange lisping of a child learning to talk. But that she could talk at all was admirable: she heard not a word of what she said.

What is your conception of God? someone asked. "I conceive Him as divine, and I feel His love and goodness toward humanity." She implied that He was kind even to the deaf and blind who, she emphasized, could live useful lives if they learned to overcome their handicap. Dr. Keller said that world peace was her fondest dream. "I have been talking peace all of my life."

She singled out Churchill and Nehru as great men, saying of the former, "He is brilliant. I was thrilled by his handsome face," and of the latter: "He is a great poet, philosopher and statesman," adding, "He has a fine sense of humor." At this, she touched Ms. Thompson’s mouth and laughed.

During the interview, Dr. Keller would tap her companion’s hand in her great enthusiasm and desire to know what was being talked about. Ms. Thompson would tap her back and say, "Wait a minute, Helen.")

What about the great women she had met? Eleanor Roosevelt was one. Had she heard of the Philippines before? She replied, "Of course. But not lately." And of President Magsaysay? "Very little. But he is a fine man and I am looking forward to calling on him."

She walked back to her room (at the Manila Hotel), guided by the patient Ms. Thompson, but only after she had felt the outlines of the many admiring faces around her.

I was one of these admiring "faces" and as I left, Helen Keller’s supremely edifying story came to my mind, a resumé of which bears repeating here.

She lost her sight and hearing when a strange disease afflicted her as a baby of 19 months. Because she could not hear, she naturally could not learn to talk, and because her compounded handicap prevented her from acquiring "seeing" and "hearing" experiences to relate to each other, giving her even the most rudimentary education seemed impossible. Consequently, through the first years of her life, she was wild, violent, uncontrollable and rebellious.

What her parents needed were the qualified services of one who was willing to take on the challenging task – apparently it had no precedent – of teaching the child, a task which would require superhuman patience.

Such a one came in the person of 21-year old Anne Sullivan, a graduate of Perkins Institution. Destiny must have played a part in the Kellers’ choice of her because she was at one time blind herself, having recovered her sight only after an operation.

As such, she could realize to a considerable degree the enormity of the child’s problem as well as the near insurmountable difficulties of training Helen. (Anne’s arrival on the scene was later described by Helen, in the story of her life, as her "soul’s birthday".)

Through infinite and unfailing perseverance, the undaunted teacher finally succeeded in establishing a connection in the child’s mind between objects and words through the aforementioned alphabet, a process requiring the spelling of words on the blind person’s hand.

Miss Sullivan’s incredible success with her deaf-blind-mute ward may be gleaned from the fact that the latter finally attended Radcliffe (incidentally, my own college) from 1900 to 1904, with the faithful Ms. Sullivan sitting beside the eager student to whom she diligently relayed all the lectures by means of the manual alphabet. Everything learned had to be memorized, however, unable as Helen was to hear the lectures or to read any book. Notwithstanding, she graduated cum laude with an AB degree, besides showing a special talent for writing.

Despite physical isolation from all normal activity, she became keenly involved in the significant concerns of her generation, achieving legendary stature as humanitarian, educator, feminist and writer, while drawing the world’s admiration for the magnificence of her courage and the rare beauty of her spirit.