Miss-Delectable
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http://www.democratandchronicle.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20051119/NEWS01/511190325/1002/NEWS
On Friday night, Snuffy MaGee's front barroom was filled with teachers, college students, business owners and others enjoying the end of their work week with a drink, some darts and laughter with their friends.
What made this particular happy hour different from most was the sea of waving hands of the people using sign language to communicate.
And the loud music wasn't a problem for bartender David Kidder, 35, of Rochester. He's deaf and reads lips well.
"Yuengling (beer) is a tough one to read," said Elissa Dennis, the bar's general manager who has also learned some sign language.
She turns up the music's volume — so the crowd can feel the vibrations — and makes sure the captioning is on the televisions, even though most of the people are engaged in face-to-face conversation rather than watching TV.
Dean DeRusso, 35, a board member of Northeast Deaf Recreation, said his club has hosted the happy hours for six months at the bar, mostly because that's where Kidder works on Fridays and Saturdays.
"We could have one with a hearing bartender, but it's easier to communicate with him and our orders are more accurate," said DeRusso of Rochester.
Club events are free, open to all and designed to encourage deaf and hearing people to interact.
Jeff Green, 22, who is taking a sign language class at Monroe Community College to help him with his master's degree for teaching, heard about the happy hour from his teacher.
"We have to interact with the deaf community and then write a paper about it," Green said. "This sounds a lot more fun than going to a coffee hour. I learned a ton."
It was the first deaf happy hour for Katie Schmitz, 44, of Rochester. An assistant professor at Rochester Institute of Technology's National Technical Institute for the Deaf, she didn't make it far inside the bar before she was engaged in conversation with friends she hadn't seen for months.
She talked about BMW motorcycles with Ray Kenney of Perinton, and was surprised to see Leslie Button of Cortland, who Schmitz thought was still living in Las Vegas.
"I never go to happy hours with hearing people," Schmitz said. "It's a nightmare. Here, I know I can communicate with everybody. And it's a nice way to connect with people I lost touch with."
On Friday night, Snuffy MaGee's front barroom was filled with teachers, college students, business owners and others enjoying the end of their work week with a drink, some darts and laughter with their friends.
What made this particular happy hour different from most was the sea of waving hands of the people using sign language to communicate.
And the loud music wasn't a problem for bartender David Kidder, 35, of Rochester. He's deaf and reads lips well.
"Yuengling (beer) is a tough one to read," said Elissa Dennis, the bar's general manager who has also learned some sign language.
She turns up the music's volume — so the crowd can feel the vibrations — and makes sure the captioning is on the televisions, even though most of the people are engaged in face-to-face conversation rather than watching TV.
Dean DeRusso, 35, a board member of Northeast Deaf Recreation, said his club has hosted the happy hours for six months at the bar, mostly because that's where Kidder works on Fridays and Saturdays.
"We could have one with a hearing bartender, but it's easier to communicate with him and our orders are more accurate," said DeRusso of Rochester.
Club events are free, open to all and designed to encourage deaf and hearing people to interact.
Jeff Green, 22, who is taking a sign language class at Monroe Community College to help him with his master's degree for teaching, heard about the happy hour from his teacher.
"We have to interact with the deaf community and then write a paper about it," Green said. "This sounds a lot more fun than going to a coffee hour. I learned a ton."
It was the first deaf happy hour for Katie Schmitz, 44, of Rochester. An assistant professor at Rochester Institute of Technology's National Technical Institute for the Deaf, she didn't make it far inside the bar before she was engaged in conversation with friends she hadn't seen for months.
She talked about BMW motorcycles with Ray Kenney of Perinton, and was surprised to see Leslie Button of Cortland, who Schmitz thought was still living in Las Vegas.
"I never go to happy hours with hearing people," Schmitz said. "It's a nightmare. Here, I know I can communicate with everybody. And it's a nice way to connect with people I lost touch with."