By John Johnston
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Photos of Jennifer Holladay's graduation.

Hundreds of white chairs, neatly arranged on the Thomas More College lawn, sit empty. Rain has forced commencement indoors on this mid-May Saturday.

The dreariness doesn't diminish what Jennifer Holladay is feeling. In her dormitory room, she readies two sets of black caps and gowns. One is for her. The other, for her guide dog, a Labrador retriever named Rainy.

Jennifer slips into her gown, and Mindy Merrill, her best friend since grade school, pins Rainy's garb over her harness.

As they step outside, Jennifer's excitement bubbles over: "I'm going to graduate!"

MOMENTS OF LIFE

This part of an occasional series that documents moments that connect us. This year, the series focuses on firsts that are life's milestones. We welcome your suggestions. Contact John Johnston at 768-8516; e-mail: jjohnston@enquirer.com.

THE STORIES

• First trip to the dentist • First flight • First baby • First comedy gig • First T-ball game • First college graduate

Her parents, grandmothers and twin brother are coming. Her mother, Joan Holladay, is a computer assistant for an elementary school. Her father, Dale Holladay, owns a heating and air conditioning business. Almost 22 years ago, the Boone County couple could not imagine that their daughter would be the first in the family to earn a college degree. They simply hoped she and her brother would survive.

Joan didn't know she was carrying twins. She hadn't gained much weight. Six months into her pregnancy, she arrived in her doctor's office with severe cramps. She lay down and startled everyone by delivering two tiny, 21/2-pound babies.

The infants went into cardiac arrest during the ambulance ride to Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center. The driver diverted to a closer hospital. For a couple of hours, the Holladays didn't know where they were.

"I just thought ... they cannot be alive," Joan says.

Jason and Jennifer survived. But Jennifer, in particular, faced an uncertain future. When she was less than 2 weeks old, and her weight had dropped to 1 pound, 15 ounces, she had surgery to correct a heart murmur. Another surgery was needed to deal with complications from meningitis.

Jason remained hospitalized for the first three months of his life. Jennifer, for four. She required bottled oxygen for almost a year. Caring for them was a total family effort that included grandparents.

About a week before Jennifer came home, the Holladays learned she was blind. She sees light and some shadows.

Joan says she and her husband instilled in Jennifer the notion that she was not handicapped.

Jennifer learned to ride a bike. She joined 4-H and showed animals at the Boone County Fair. She participated in speech contests at school. Four years ago, she graduated from Conner Senior High School.

"I always knew I would go to college," Jennifer says.

She visited only one school, and it happened to be 15 minutes from home. Thomas More College in Crestview Hills is run by the Catholic Diocese of Covington. "It felt right," she says.

•  •  •

The summer before she started college, Jennifer traveled to New Jersey to the Seeing Eye, which matches guide dogs with people with visual impairments. She trained with Rainy, then brought her home.

Before classes started each semester, they visited Jennifer's classrooms. Rainy learned the routes: the steps to climb, the turns to make, the halls to traverse and the doors to enter.

Jennifer faced the same challenges and stresses common to all college students. And then some. Halfway through her first semester, she had an appendicitis attack. She was out for two weeks but still completed all her course work.

Also painful, but in a mentally challenging way, were the chemistry and statistics classes Jennifer delayed taking until her senior year.

"We never put pressure on her to get the top grades, just to do her best," her mother says. "She always put pressure on herself."

She majored in communications, with a minor in psychology. She didn't confine her education to the classroom.

Last summer, Jennifer interned with Cincinnati Association for the Blind, doing public relations work (which is what she'd like to do after graduation). She learned bus schedules and streets. Three days a week she rode a Transit Authority of Northern Kentucky bus downtown, then transferred to a Metro bus. The first time, she missed her stop. Another day, her first encounter with a panhandler frightened her. Once, a panhandler's dog tried to attack Rainy.

"I learned a lot about life," Jennifer says.

•  •  •

The graduating class lines up in the administration building. As they find their places, there are hugs, handshakes and words of congratulation.

"How do we look?" Jennifer asks her friend Mindy. "How does Rainy look?"

"Precious."

There's time to chat with friends such as Christin Armstrong, a classmate since freshman year. "Jennifer is a great girl," Armstrong says. "I'm proud of myself ... but she's awesome."

The line begins moving. It leads outside, past the empty chairs on the rain-drenched lawn, into the convocation center. Brandon Jansen, who is also graduating, reattaches Rainy's cap before the graduates proceed onto the floor. Hundreds of friends and family watch, wave, and snap pictures.

U.S. Sen. Jim Bunning delivers the commencement address, emphasizing the importance of hard work and effort, and desire.

When it's time for graduates to receive their diplomas, they proceed one by one onto the stage. Dale K. Myers, dean of academic affairs, announces each name to a smattering of applause.

There is a pause. The dean reads the name Jennifer Marie Holladay. Then he continues:

"Throughout her academic career at Thomas More College, Jennifer has been accompanied by a faithful companion, Rainy. This four-footed friend has attended every class, listened to all the lectures without barking out any comments on the subject or the quality of the lecture. It must be recognized, however, that Rainy did occasionally catch a short nap during a lecture, not unlike an occasional student. Nevertheless, it seems appropriate that we award Rainy a diploma to accompany the diploma that Jennifer receives."

At that, thunderous applause.

Rainy wags her tail. Jennifer breaks into a smile. She's still wearing it when she greets her family. Her mother hugs her and presents her with a single red rose. Her father embraces her and says, "Congratulations, sweetie."

E-mail jjohnston@enquirer.com