Cory McKelvey is a performer in his heart of hearts. He has worked as a professional actor, singer and dancer, and he still speaks of the slow, intricate entwining of a pas de deux with reverence.
But imagine all the cherished things of life gradually fading out of reach. Small things like reading a book, seeing the face of a friend or loved one, and the big things, too, like a successful performance career and the ability to dance across a stage. And yet, in spite of the loss of nearly everything he used to hold dear, Cory’s abiding emotion is deep gratitude.
“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away,” he said.
Cory was born with a congenital defect in his right eye, rendering that eye sightless, and he has experienced the gradual diminishing of sight in his left eye. He is now functionally blind and living on the streets.
“I can see light and dark patches,” he said.
From an early age, Cory fell in love with books and the stories in them. Although he was teased and bullied for peering over a constant armload of books with his thick glasses, Cory always knew where he could go for comfort.
“Books were my friends,” he said. “I knew if I was willing to concentrate, the author would tell me something new and wonderful.
“I miss books the most, the way my eyes rolled over the words. And I miss the smell, the warm, papery mustiness.”
Cory learned to answer the bullying by becoming a wrestler and running track in high school.
“I wrestled to gain respect from my peers,” he said, “but what I really wanted to do was dance.”
So the day he graduated, Cory signed up for ballet lessons. He was awarded a full scholarship to study dance at the University of Oregon.
“That scholarship was one of the most wonderful things that’s ever happened to me,” he said.
His love of performance and storytelling led him straight into the theater in his early 20s. Throughout the 1970s, he danced, directed and performed in downtown Portland theaters such as the Cubiculo and the Jefferson Center for the Performing Arts. Night after night on stage taught him to rely on others for cues, energy and momentum.
“I learned to rely on others,” he said. “I learned to leave my ego behind for the first time.”
Now Cory relies on others in a different way. He can’t read street signs or see where the sidewalk ends. He had a phone with optical character recognition, but his phones have been stolen four times. Being blind on the streets makes one particularly vulnerable.
“I’ve been ripped off so many times, I can feel it coming,” he said. “My motto is adapt, improvise and overcome.”
Cory relies on his listening skills and, more and more, on his friend Lucas, who walks him around the city and sleeps nearby at night.
“He takes care of me. In turn, I share all I can with him,” Cory said.
“The thread of drugs and alcohol has been constant for me. I nearly killed myself at one point when I was 45.”
Cory joined Alcoholics Anonymous to help him address his addictions, and it has been a lifesaver.
“Either you believe you are a creation, or a lucky roll of the cosmic dice,” he said. “I believe I’m a creation, which means there’s a creator and a responsibility that goes with that.”
Cory would love to find a way back into theater. He would like to do radio theater, direct or teach. Until then, he uses his Street Roots job as a creative outlet.
“I make rhymes and sing when I sell,” he said. “I like to greet people, make them laugh.”
He is working on securing a spot to sell the newspaper in the Lents area.
When Cory began to lose his sight, he was “desperately despondent.” For the first time in his life, he gave up.
Now his advice to others is: “You are stronger than you think.
“One thing that has always saved me,” he said: “I love people.”