I left the Convention Center to go grab some lunch across the street with a few friends.

Getting around by wheelchair.

^{Photo by Josh Board}

When I got back to Comic-Con, I noticed a booth near the front doors that I hadn’t remembered seeing. It was for disabled attendees.

Next to that booth, a company called Network Interpreting Service was providing translators for any deaf attendees.

I talked to Kyla, who worked with them. She signed as she spoke with me (which is the norm). She explained, “We provided interpreters for one-on-one situations, if they want to go shopping. We can also have a translator for the panels any deaf person may be attending.”

I asked if it was hard for a translator to keep up with a panel, if multiple people are speaking at once?

Kyla responded, “No. Our translators are good.”

She didn’t know the exact number of deaf people that attended, but said it was quite a few.

I saw a sign at the booth next to her that said you could borrow a wheelchair for three hours, with a $20 deposit.

I saw at least 20 people in wheelchairs on Friday. One even had a German Shephard service dog.

One guy named Henry, was very polite at one booth. He was smiling and joking with the people in line, and when he got to the front he said, “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Literally.”

I asked him if it was tough at Comic Con in a wheelchair.

He said, “It’s tough anywhere in a wheelchair, and the Con isn’t any worse. In fact, the crowd is so nice, it’s easier sometimes. Crowds are always tough, but everyone gives me enough room. I feel guilty when they feel they have to go above and beyond. I shouldn’t get special treatment or be allowed to go to the front of the line. I can wait my turn. People are also willing to help me, whether that’s grabbing something I can’t reach, or whatever it may be. With 25,000 people you’re working your way through, I end up feeling bad when someone walks into my chair. They don’t expect to turn around and have something right at their hip.”

A woman that didn’t want to be named, spoke to me after her husband went into the bathroom. He was blind.

She said, “He can move around easily without being on my arm, using his cane. This is a big crowd, though. We feel safer this way. We only come here every five years or so. He collected comic books as a kid, and he likes to talk to the vendors about certain issues.”

I see her husband coming out, and thank her for her time.

As I walked into the bathroom, I heard a guy in a wheelchair coming out. He told somebody, “No, this isn’t my wheelchair, it’s my mother's. I can’t really walk that far and it’s easier to attend Comic Con with this.”

Even though it’s a small percentage in the crowd with disabilities, it’s nice to know that the Convention Center does a lot to make it easier for them.

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