He got his first drivers license at the usual age most teenagers get drivers licenses, passing the driving test on a car with a standard transmission. He learned how to type on an Underwood manual typewriter. He played the snare drum in the high school marching band. His first part-time job as a college freshman was at an indoor gun range and security company as a dispatcher. He didn’t wear clip-on ties, because they look dorky, so he created a better solution. He grew up and made his way through corporate America before the days of the Americans with Disabilities Act. He gives off the appearance being a Thalidomide Kid, but looks can be deceptive.
He doesn’t go around wringing his hands over what society ought to do, and that’s because his hands aren’t like yours or mine. He frankly uses words that the politically correct have dismissed as arcane – disabled and handicapped — not challenged or differently abled. Calling a spade a spade, he asks a very important question that many just don’t ask when it comes to living with what God gave him: “What is it that I don’t have to have help with?”
Charlie Hall isn’t the average foreigner living in the expatriate haven San Miguel de Allende, where many foreigners concern themselves with retirement pleasures, living on Social Security, tourism, performing good works, or even gang membership. He owns and operates etched glass and candle-making factories in Mexico, serious businesses which hire disabled people, showing them that they, too, can navigate their way through life with productive employment.
At the age of 48, Charlie doesn’t quibble over whether his glass is half-full or half-empty, because it’s brimming over. And so, too, is his blog, To Dream to Touch, where he hashes out the trials of the ordinary businessman, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, New York subways, speeding tickets, and breaking the mold.