From the top of its ornate concrete tower, familiar to the oarsmen constantly rowing below, to the mile of heat and service tunnels running under its dozen buildings, Perkins Institution for the Blind is quiet and country-like, little resembling its early self in the heart of South Boston. The first school of its kind in the country, it was conceived by Dr. John P. Fisher, who, tradition says, buttonholed an unfamiliar but handsome and able - looking young man on Boylston Street one day, and made him the first director on the spot. He was Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, whose wife wrote the now-famous words to the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The institution was named after Col. Thomas H. Perkins, who was once asked by George Washington to accept the secretaryship in his cabinet, but refused because he already owned more ships than the United States government. Between 1832, when the first classes were held in the home of Dr. Howe's father, to 1913, when it moved to an old estate in Watertown, its present site, Perkins has changed location only four times and has had but four directors.

Ever since those early days Perkins has been preparing its sightless graduates to "take a contributory place in life," but now, in a society at war, their place is more than ever distinguished and distinctive. Up to the outbreak of war, these men and women, both partially and totally blind, had filled positions ranging from poultry farmers to teachers and public servants. Now they have adapted their special abilities to war work. Many are serving as airplane spotters, their highly-developed hearing enabling them to locate a plane long before their seeing companions are aware of it. Others are employed in factories, working on specialized machinery, assembled by accurate determination of the size and the shape of the parts. Here their sensitive touch gives them the advantage over the other laborers.

But for the pupils still attending the school life goes on pretty much as usual, with improvised athletics, dances, dramatics, and walks around the green, garden-like acres. Among the students, track and baseball are now the vogue in the sports world. By fastening a piece of string to a wire running parallel to the track, the competitors, guided by holding the string in their hand, can race in a straight line. Baseball is played, for the most part, by those who can see a little, but the other forms of entertainment, such as singing and dancing can be enjoyed by all. In the fall the boys play an adapted game of six-man football. With three who can see a little, and three who are totally blind on each side, a system of forward-passing with little running has been worked out. Walking around by the pond and among the trees and flowering shrubbery, is another favorite recreation. Most of the students can get around quite well unaided, determining accurately where they are by the sound of the echo made by their footsteps off the buildings and trees, or reverberation from clapping their hands.

Perkins has always led the way with the theory that such unfortunates as the blind should not be buried in asylums, but should be taught how to have happy and useful lives, and now, with the country at war, this theory is borne out as its graduates fall into their special place in the struggle.