Philip Keller is legally blind.
But this hasn't stopped the former Cleveland radio personality from seeing the light.
Rather than cracking jokes in drive time, Trapper Jack, as he's better known to legions of radio fans, now spends his time in search of miracles and what he sees as evidence of God's presence among us.
He's still quick with a quip or two, particularly about his blindness — saying jumping out of plane to skydive was not nearly as stressful for him as it was on the seeing eye dog, or the fact being legally blind isn't fatal unless you unknowingly step in front of a bus.
His abrupt departure from WDOK in 2012 (the station's decision, not his) was really a beginning rather than an end.
Sure, he spent some time moping around his Rocky River home and feeling sorry for himself, wondering what life had in store. But Keller said leaving radio helped him discover his spiritual voice.
He'd been a wayward Catholic for much, if not all of his years in radio, bouncing from market to market before settling in Cleveland.
God was always nudging him in subtle and not-too-subtle ways.
Perhaps finally losing his vision to a progressive condition known as retinitis pigmentosa in the early 1990s was the first real sign that God had other plans for him.
The spiritual stirring really began when he first interviewed Dr. Issam Nemeh on his radio show. The doctor has been credited with several miracles at prayer services and private sessions at his medical office in Westlake. Many have turned to him as a last resort.
The two became friends and Keller would travel to Nemeh's appearances to act as a master of ceremonies of sorts.
He even hosted a podcast called "Blind Faith Live," interviewing those who claimed to be healed by the power of prayer from Nemeh.
That podcast ended last year and was replaced by Keller's latest endeavor, "Touched by Heaven," on which he speaks to folks from all walks of life who've had an incident or series of events that led them closer to God.
Keller will be the first to say he's just an ordinary guy — with the exception of the glamorous radio career and the blindness thing — who for whatever reason God chose to give a spiritual shove.
There was no burning bush, and Keller is quick to point out he wouldn't have seen it anyway.
But there were visions. Three of them in fact.
The first came at 2:30 a.m. in 2003.
He woke up at that ungodly hour to get ready for his radio shift, opened his eyes and instead of seeing nothing — he saw everything.
Keller said the room was illuminated even though there were no lights on. And he could see for the first time in a decade.
"I was seeing perfectly," he said. "I was having an encounter with God."
The second time was in the middle of the day, when for a brief moment or two, he could see once again.
"Vision on. Vision off," Keller said. "What he was saying to me, what he was telling me was 'let's have a conversation.' "
And so began, he said, an internal conversation with God and a path back to the church.
"God didn't heal me," Keller explains. "He just had to awaken me."
So Keller said he's kept his promise to be a better Catholic and to spread the Gospel and the word that one can "see God in the everyday."
He says you don't have to look hard for the breadcrumbs.
Going through some family mementos, he found the birth announcement from when he was born many moons ago. It showed a picture of a radio with the words "A new voice is on the air."
"That's not a coincidence," Keller said.
It was a sign of a grander plan or design, he said, that led him to a 40-year career in radio and now interviewing others about their encounters with God for his podcast.
Looking back, Keller said, it seemed he had everything: a good-paying radio gig in a major market, celebrity status and all the perks that brought, but one thing was missing: "I just wasn't happy."
So that flash of vision in a darkened room was like a thunderclap.
"It was life-changing," he said. "My God was in that room."
The third vision was not exactly as calming and reassuring — at least at the time.
He was standing in front of mirror when a vision of himself took shape in the reflection. His head was split in two and there was black smoke pouring from it.
"God was saying, I want you to see that you are the one changing," Keller said.
So now he lives the life of a disciple, spreading the Word on the internet and in person at conferences and church gatherings like a recent one in Medina.
As long as someone's willing to listen, Keller's willing to talk.
This is all a bit ironic, said his wife of 30 years, Beth, as he is not exactly a chatterbox in everyday life. "He's quiet as a mouse at home," she said. "He saves it all for his audience."
Keller considers himself lucky that God was persistent with him.
"He watches us," he said. "We all know the behaviors that need to change.
"If you don't, just ask your spouse."
Craig Webb, whose wife Jennifer has a lengthy list of changes he needs to make, can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or 330-996-3547.