By Patrick A. Barrett

(Editor’s Note:  Pat is a board member of the NFB of Minnesota, and a past president of our Metro Chapter in which he is very active.)

January generally means mounds of snow and plates piled high with spaghetti in St. Cloud, Minnesota.  For many of us in the National Federation of the Blind of Minnesota (NFBMN), we have looked forward each year to the Central Minnesota Chapter’s successful spaghetti dinner fundraiser.

This year was their 25^th annual event.  The chapter members did a super job with planning and putting it together.  The spaghetti and garlic bread were delicious.  Yet, our long-time friend and leader Andy Virden, was missing.  He was hit and killed by a car in March 2011.

Fourteen of us from the Metro Chapter of the NFBMN went to the dinner this year.  It was a little chilly when we arrived, and so I went into the first door of the building that was unlocked.  I smelled the enticing aroma of spaghetti sauce, and I went in.  I was surprised that the room was a little empty.  I learned later that I had come in the overflow side for the dinner.  However, when I came back with my plate heaped with spaghetti, I noticed it was already filling up steadily.

I sat with Sharon Monthei, Rob Hobson, Steve Jacobson, and Jean Rauschenbach.  My wife Trudy usually comes, but she was in Idaho helping her dad take care of her critically ill mother.  When I was in line with Sharon, we talked about the fact that we still did not know much about Andy’s accident.  We believed city officials were giving the NFBMN the run-around.  There were moments when the conversation paused.  I noted the absence of Andy’s laughter in the room. 

I visited with a few of our Central Minnesota Chapter members.  I put my arm around them, and told them they had done a great job with the event.  We missed Andy.  Yet, we believed Andy was viewing the event and was pleased. 

I went back for seconds.  I made a resolution to myself that I would not go back for thirds (Steve and I were in a contest last year to see if we could consume three platefuls apiece), because I was cutting back on carbs.  When I returned to the table, Jason and his friend Paul had joined us.  I learned that Jason had been a counselor with State Services for the Blind (SSB) for a couple of years in the St. Cloud area.  I introduced them to everyone else.  They said this was their first time at the spaghetti fundraiser, and they were enjoying it.

I checked my watch, and the van would be leaving in 20 minutes.  I went to the bar for a drink in memory of Andy.  He had treated Trudy and me to a soft drink last year.  I ordered a Diet Coke with lime.  I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, so I do not believe in drinking alcohol.  Though the drink wasn’t as strong as Andy would have preferred for himself, my thoughts were strong toward him. 

It just so happened that I was sitting next to Jason and Paul at the counter.  Jason and I agreed that Andy’s accident was tough on the driver.  We also talked about the many service organizations for which Andy was a hard worker, and his efforts to educate the public on the capabilities of the blind. 

“To Andy and his achievements,” I said to Jason. 

“To Andy,” he declared.  We clinked our glasses together, and drank up.

Twelve years ago, when I was at the NFB national convention in Atlanta, Georgia, I remember a great encouragement Andy had given me.  I had been working at Express Scripts, Inc. for about three years, in the private corporate sector.  It was my first job away from services affecting the blind.

“Not everyone should work in the blind services areas,” he counseled warmly.  “I am glad we have you doing a good job in the private sector.”

Andy Virden was a great friend to blind and sighted folks not only in Minnesota but also throughout the country.  He loved serving others.