Adjusting to city life Leon Rosen was born with a 50/50 chance of inheriting a condition that deteriorates the retina of the eye. He lived a typical childhood in a rural Wisconsin town, attending school and doing farm and factory work in the summers until he was 15, when he began to lose his vision.
Rosen gave up his driver’s license but continued with his schooling, obtaining his Associate’s degrees in accounting and finance and then working as an independent tax accountant for several years.
As his vision continued to deteriorate, he sought help from a nearby rehabilitation agency and continued his education further with a Bachelor’s degree in business administration and a Master’s in vocational rehabilitation counseling.
A momentous transition came in 2004 when an internship for his Master’s program pulled Rosen from the small towns he knew so well to Minneapolis.
"Where I came from, street addresses were nonexistent. I had to learn about street addresses. I wasn’t familiar with public transportation. It was a cultural melting pot. It was a huge shock," Rosen says.
But the Adjustment to Blindness training he attended at Vision Loss Resources showed him the freedom and opportunity that big-city amenities like public transportation  | | Paige Hall | can provide for people with disabilities.
After sharing an apartment for two years, Rosen moved into CCHT’s Paige Hall in 2006.
"It’s a great location," he says. "I can walk less than a block in any direction and I can go anywhere on public transit." He says the proximity to downtown transit stops shortens his commute by about an hour a day.
It’s also helped his budget, as he spends $150 less than he spent to split his previous apartment. He says he can "eat a little better" as a result.
Rosen says people like him often fall through the cracks, ineligible for government aid or food stamps but struggling to meet their basic needs each month. As he seeks work in his field, an affordable place to live is essential.
"People who invest in CCHT—I just thank them dearly. Most likely, without this organization, I’d probably be living in a homeless shelter right now," he says.
Now 43, Rosen says he takes a positive view of life. The white cane he uses to navigate the city has revealed to him the kindness of strangers. "I’ve learned that most every individual has a good side to them," he says. "There’s a lot of good in most people."
Back
|