The light-less fantastic

Two women dressed in their Sunday best nudge each other as they eye the packed dance floor in front of them.

“George sure does like to cut a rug, don’t he?” one muses.

Every Friday morning in north Spokane, members and volunteers of Day Out for the Blind fill the dance floor of their Holyoke Avenue home. The organization provides free social activities like lunches, bingo and dancing for the blind community.

“We do everything we can to entertain them,” says volunteer Doris Gruettner, 90, after gliding around with Charlie Greer, who’s been blind since birth.

Greer, 87, has been with the organization since 1971.

“It’s where I learned to dance,” he says. “They were kind and patient.”

For Retha Seaman, Friday morning is the social highlight of her week.

“She always knows when it’s dance day,” a volunteer says. “She’ll just go out and dance by herself if she doesn’t have a partner.”

Seaman, dressed in a flowered blouse, crème sweater vest and white Reeboks peeking out from under her dress pants, is jigging to a ’40s beat with gentleman after gentleman. A couple of well-dressed ladies, too.

“Here the women are not bashful,” says volunteer Will Pennell, 98, watching a member tap the shoulder of a dapper, seated man. “But they outnumber the men, so sometimes women dance together.”

Jean McKenzie whizzes by in a flowing white skirt and bright pink top. She always has a male partner vying for her attention.

“Turn loose of her, OK?” an anxious man says to her current partner, Doc, before grabbing her hand and pulling her back out.

Day out for the Blind will celebrate their first anniversary on Friday in the Holyoke building, which they remodeled from a warehouse into their permanent meeting place last year.

This is a dance floor where everyone’s equal, sighted or not. According to president Goldie Costanzo, the group aims to draw the blind out of their homes and remove the stigma from admitting visual impairment.

Costanzo, who went blind in 2001, stands up in front of the dance floor to make announcements to the 65 members.

“If you have something to add, wave your hand like mad or else I can’t see ya,” she says to laughter.

For Kelly and Joan Campbell, who both lost their spouses a few years ago, Day out for the Blind was more than a weekly activity; it brought them together.

“They came in separately and are now united,” a volunteer says.

“She’s the sweetest little gal I ever knew,” Kelly says of Joan. “And she’s a good dancer. We danced all the way to Hawaii and back.”