In this world of incredible, mind-boggling technology, the simplest device can still have a profound effect.
Take an inclined plane, for example. I learned from a childhood science book that it's one of the three basic machines – along with the lever and the wheel and axle.
Saturday, I got to watch as a lowly inclined plane – a mere sloped surface – changed a life.
Phillip Flowers, 41, always worked in restaurants. For 15 years, he was manager of an IHOP.
During that time, his diabetes steadily worsened. His vision dimmed. His circulation faltered. A leg had to be amputated below the knee three years ago. Still, he got around pretty well on a prosthetic leg and a crutch.
Then about six weeks ago, he lost the other leg.
When he returned to his home in Oak Cliff, now in a wheelchair, he realized that those few steps up and down his front porch made him a virtual prisoner.
So he improvised. He would roll his chair out to the edge of the porch, climb out of it, sit on the edge of the porch, drag the heavy wheelchair to the ground and then climb back in.
"It was the only way you could do it. Ain't no other way," he said matter-of-factly.
"And it's harder getting back up on the porch," he added.
Fortunately for Phillip, there is something called the Dallas Ramp Project. As we talked on his front porch, an energetic crew of volunteers was busily constructing a sturdy wooden ramp for him.
A mere inclined plane in a high-tech world, but it would make all the difference for Phillip.
"This is the best volunteer work I have ever done. No question," veteran ramp builder Rob Britton had said as we drove to Phillip's house that morning. "The work is simple. It's satisfying. There's no bureaucracy. And you can change someone's life in a morning."
By profession, Rob is an advertising executive for American Airlines. But many Saturday mornings he straps on a tool belt and becomes Rob the Builder.
This program began modestly 20 years ago. The Richardson Kiwanis Club built a few ramps a year for people in need.
Then demand exploded. And The Dallas Ramp Project took on a life of its own. Volunteers now build about 225 ramps a year.
With something as vital as a wheelchair ramp, you might think some government program would provide that for the needy. But you would be wrong. It's just the volunteers of The Dallas Ramp Project who bring freedom to homebound people.
The good news is that they do it with great efficiency. When the city of Dallas did have a ramp program, materials and administrative costs pushed the price to nearly $5,000 a ramp, said Ramp Project president John Laine.
With volunteer labor, donated supplies and zero administrative costs, The Dallas Ramp Project builds ramps for about $250 each.
That ought to warm the heart of every taxpayer.
The only bad news is that more ramps are needed than the project can build. A backlog of homebound people grows.
It could meet the demand except for one thing – team leaders.
The program has enough donated money and material. It has plenty of volunteers to provide general labor.
But there's a big need for folks with basic building skills to direct the teams. And I mean very basic skills. It's rudimentary carpentry – so easy, even a thumb-banger like me could do it.
Interested? You can learn more at www.dallasramps.org or by calling 972-235-7309. Or just show up at 7 a.m. on the second or third Saturday of a month, or at 9 a.m. on the last Monday of a month (except this one), at project headquarters, 4720 Simonton Road. Join the fun as a worker bee for a while to see if you would like to step up as a team leader.
It really is fun. The mood is lighthearted. The work is hands-on. And the end result is ...
"Wonderful!" proclaimed Phillip Flowers when his easy-rolling ramp was done. "I can't thank everyone enough."
Just a simple inclined plane, but a greatly improved life.
E-mail sblow@dallasnews.com