Where The Magic Happens
I work in a store that offers technical support for consumer-level technology. A few days ago, I had an elderly gentleman that we’ll call Pete in. Our receptionist made him a walk-in appointment earlier that day and I ended up taking it. When I opened it all up, the only notes I saw were “Third-party software, hard of hearing”.
I walked up to Pete and greeted him, saw that he was staring at my lips as to read them, then I asked if he knew American Sign Language (ASL). I’ve been trying to learn ASL it as a sort of side-hobby for a few months now. Pete signs “yes” and we continue the conversation in Sign. Turns out the issue is with Skype, which keeps crashing on his roughly five-year old tablet, and he’s been having difficulty video-calling his wife who is Deaf.
She lives in a different continent. She travelled there for a temporary work opportunity and would be there for two years. This being the mid-way point, it’s now been one year since Pete’s seen his wife. Skype is the only way they both know how to communicate efficiently long-distance, as neither are comfortable with email or other text-based services.
As I go through verifying that he knows his password and making sure there’s a backup of his device, Pete and I are signing back and forth and his face was completely lit up. I felt so good to be able to, albeit slowly, speak with him in his language and give him the time he deserved, even if his reason for visiting us had little to do with our physical product.
Once everything was verified and backed up, I uninstalled Skype and reinstalled it, had Pete sign in, and use Skype’s test call to ensure it wouldn’t crash (as it would immediately upon call creation before). Test call went through fine. Sweet. Then the magic happens.
I looked down to write a few extra notes and began to hear some coughs. I looked up and there was Pete, crying while waving to his wife through Skype. Pete called her and she picked up! He introduced me to her and told me that it’d been three weeks since they’d heard from each other. I stepped away to give him a moment alone.
It’s moments like these that keep me going as a technician. Even though I barely touched Pete’s tablet, “fixing” it made me feel like a hero. It’s been a few days and I can still see his smile.
Just thought I’d share, thanks for reading.