There was a 30-second trial of the darkness that enveloped those in attendance at the Foundation for Fighting Blindness’ inaugural Richmond Dining in the Dark event held last Thursday.

After the quick splash of darkness and warnings of what to expect for the next 30 minutes – as well as additional thanks to Chesterfield county’s fire marshal for approving the night’s event – all the cell phones and electronics were turned off and the doors were sealed with heavy black drapes.

The fund-raiser, honoring Midlothian resident and ophthalmologist Dr. Byron Ladd and community leaders Diane and Paul Manning for their contributions to research, was chaired by Mechanicsville resident Megan Mudd. The honorees and dinner chair, each of them gracious and dynamic individuals, had their spotlight stolen just a little bit by the servers who presented the main course that evening.

Event assistants put on their night-vision goggles. The diners took a quick note of where the wine glasses, tea, water, and the silver wear was placed in front of them on the table and the countdown began—5, 4, 3, 2, and 1 – to total darkness.

The server for my table, Tawanda Davis of Roanoke, Va., was a wonderful hostess. Davis began losing her sight at age 8. She confidently informed us that she would place her hand on our right shoulder, then down the outside of our arm and for us to turn the palm of our hand up so she could hand us our dinner plate. We still did not know what the entrée was being served.

Each of us at the table passed the bread basket around as well as the butter plate with minor success. I attempted to pour a glass of red wine, but gave up after I realized I didn’t have a clue to the depth of the glass and felt intimidated by any red wine stain. The conversation among the tables in the room seemed extremely loud. Every now and then a sudden flash of light would escape from a cell phone screen, followed by several “Boo”s and calls to “Turn it off.”

Once Davis handed me my meal, I asked the others at the table for a few pointers. We still had no idea what was being served. Some suggested we use our fingers because no one was watching. But it struck me that a person who is visually-impaired would not have the luxury of not worrying about social norms. What would you think if you saw someone holding and gnawing on a slice of tenderloin?

I picked up the knife and fork and gingerly used one finger to figure out where things were on the plate.  I tried to cut into the meat, but I couldn’t figure out if I was pushing it off the plate. I thought I stabbed a small potato with my fork only to bring the fork up to my mouth empty. I found asparagus and thought I’d finally have success only to eat the wrong end of the stalk. And when I took a bite of the roll I had buttered in the dark, I realized I had spread way too much butter on the bread. I was starting to get frustrated.

Davis came back to ask how things were going with our meal. That’s when I asked her about the challenges she faces on a daily basis. For her, fear is a huge component. It’s not always easy, but she finally realized that being isolated is difficult and she likes to eat at restaurants too. One hint she gave was to use the 6 p.m. method, where you start at the bottom of the plate and push your food toward the center. That way, she explained, the food doesn’t end up on the table. The mother of three boys also added that the best way to pour any beverage is to keep the glass straight and use a finger tip hooked over the rim to judge the amount. I tried to eat again using her hints and finally cut a sliver of beef tenderloin and successfully ate it.

By then, my eyes searched for some sort of light source and began to ache at the strain.  The conversational noise was beginning to become a constant hum and the total darkness had disoriented all the senses. Suddenly, a light beamed from the corner of the dining room. Remaining on my plate were two thin slices of beef tenderloin, carrots with the green sprouts, asparagus, potatoes, and a single blackberry that I had avoided. My fellow diners had cleared their plates and set their well-used napkins aside. Although the event had ended, the lasting impression of those 30 minutes of dining in the dark would remain with me for a long time.