The Sarnia Journal has partnered with local photographer Art Connolly to feature his captivating “Humans of Sarnia” series as he delves into the lives and experiences of everyday people in Sarnia.
When you first meet John Wall, you’re immediately struck by two things—his towering 6-foot-4 frame and his sharp, infectious sense of humour. It’s a combination that fills the room and makes you forget, at least for a while, that life hasn’t always dealt him the easiest hand.
Born in Tillsonburg, Ontario, John entered the world at an astonishing 14.8 pounds—the youngest of ten children in a big Mennonite family. “I’ve been breaking records since day one,” he laughs. When John was six his family moved from Canada to Mexico to a family homestead, where the Mennonite community built their lives around faith, family, and hard work. After a few years, the family returned to Canada, settling in Tupperville, Ontario, where they lived on a homestead and the family had a contract to pick cucumbers to sell, in addition to picking tomatoes for other farmers.
After attending Wallaceburg District Secondary School, John discovered his love for woodworking—a passion that would shape much of his life. He started his career after high school at Matt'r's Wood Products outside of Wallaceburg for 9 years before moving on to Sarnia Cabinets. John later joined Inter Tech Instrumentation, a company that built modular homes for instrumentation for refinery purposes. His work took him as far as China and Singapore. “We’d ship the homes over, and a crew would go install them,” John says. “It was hard work, but it was an adventure.”
That adventure took an unexpected turn when, after a long flight home, John’s vision began to blur. A visit to the doctor revealed that the blood vessels in one of his eyes had ruptured. The diagnosis was diabetic retinopathy—a progressive condition that damages the blood vessels in the retina. “They started doing surgeries and stuff,” John explains, “and it just slowly kept getting worse instead. They said I was going to get better, but it never did. I was basically left with three percent vision.”
By May of 2014, John was forced to stop working. The transition was tough, but through it all, he found ways to keep laughing. “During the early days, both my daughters were in diapers,” he recalls. “Yeah, it’s fun figuring out diaper changing without sight. The trick is wipes—lots of extra wipes!” he says with a laugh. “I keep telling people I should do stand-up comedy one day.”
And truthfully, he probably should. His humour is quick, honest, and often self-deprecating—a trait that seems to disarm the discomfort others might feel around blindness. “People ask me all the time if my other senses are heightened,” he says. “The only difference is now I just pay more attention to the ones I’ve got left.”
John has since set up a small woodworking shop in the basement of his home. Thanks to modern technology, supportive friends, and a fierce determination to stay independent, he continues to build everything from range hoods to coffee tables. One of his favourite tools is his talking tape measure. “It’s a good tool for independence,” he says with a grin. “Plus, now I don’t have to worry about getting lonely while I’m working—it talks back.”
His craftsmanship has developed a following. People appreciate his creations for both their quality and the story behind them. But not every experience has been positive. John recalls an instance when someone tried to pay him half price for a piece, saying, “You’re only worth half of what everybody else is because you’re blind.” John shakes his head. “I was disappointed, sure. But I don’t want to carry anger over it,” he says. “I want what I make to be fair value for other people. I want to be unique—something different, not discounted.”
Still, he finds humour even in awkward situations. “One time I was at my sister-in-law’s party, and this guy came up to shake my hand,” John says. “I just stood there staring. He thought I was trying to start a fight until my sister-in-law explained that I was blind.” He chuckles, adding, “Now I just say hi to everyone, especially people on their cell phones. They answer their cell phone and say ‘hello,’ and I’m like, ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ I also say hi to walls and shopping carts—it keeps life interesting.”
Through every challenge, John’s dignity, resilience, and good humour shine through. He refuses to let blindness define him. Instead, it’s become a part of his story—one of perseverance, creativity, and finding laughter even in the dark.
You can message John through his FaceBook page at https://www.facebook.com/john.wall.605175
Humans of Sarnia founder Art Connolly is a man fuelled by curiosity and a passion for connecting with people in Sarnia. Inspired by the renowned “Humans of New York” series, with a camera in hand, he captures the very essence of the individuals he encounters, preserving their stories through his lens. Follow his series on Instagram and Facebook.
