Image sources: Left, reecesrainbow.org — Right, freepik.com
My Real Memoir: My First Kid Friend
Eddie Was Different
He wasn’t my first human friend (that would by Crazy Old Alice). But Weird Eddie was my first kid friend. He sort of looked Chinese, and I liked that. He also talked differently, and very little. And even though he was bigger, he didn’t seem as smart as me, but I didn’t mind. His mom seemed grateful when I visited, and offered us non-stop treats. But Eddie had two big obsessions which kept us outside.
First, He Collected String
Even the tiniest pieces were treasures. The moment Eddie found one, he’d add it to his Humungous Ball of String. Which I found kind of boring. But what happened next was amazing!
The time had come for Eddie to carry his Humongous Ball of String to a big tree out front, and begin ceremoniously stringing it from limb to limb. He started with the lowest limbs, and then worked his way up to the highest. And I got to help. Hours later, the tree had become a colossal spider’s web of string!
And Then the Fun Began
Eddie climbed to the top of the tree, and dove down into the spider’s web, bouncing from level to level until he’d reached the ground! So I did it too. And it was epic! And once we’d reached the grass, we did it again! And again. And again. Until we’d finally broken most of the string. Then Eddie began lovingly re-building The Humongous Ball of String for some future colossal spider’s web event!
Eddie’s Other Obsession…
…was collecting grasshoppers. Which at first I thought was neato. He’d add each grasshopper he found to his Red Flyer wagon — after tearing off one its legs in order to make it stay. “No!” I shouted, and ordered him to stop! But he absolutely refused. Which was not OK with me!
So one day, while Eddie was inside, I pulled his wagon to the front yard and set all 200 grasshoppers free just like I had my babysitter Frieda’s parakeets! When Eddie came back out, he was devastated. He screamed. And screamed. And then he dropped to the ground sobbing, and began tearing up of handfuls of grass. I went home, thinking, Boy, Eddie really is weird.
I felt good–heroic and noble. So, even when Eddie’s mom told my mom about the Great Grasshopper Liberation, I refused to apologize. I was grounded for a week, but refused to relent. Actually, I rather liked being a martyr.
Until Momandad Sat Me Down and Explained
Eddie was what some people back then called a “mongoloid,” a type of “mental retardation” that gave him those “Chinese” eyes* I liked. He was nine years old, almost twice my age, they said, but wouldn’t be going to school with me that fall.
After that, I felt bad for Eddie and apologized. In a way, it seemed to me, Eddie was a one-legged grasshopper.
When I did start school a few months later, and found myself surrounded by “normal” kids, I felt a little like Weird Eddie myself. So I made a point of befriending other weird kids…
Like me.
*Some people with Down Syndrome (the old term “mongoloid” was based on outdated, racist theories) have slightly upward slanting eyes.
To read My Real Memoir from the start, click here. To read the next episode, click here.
Good for you with the grasshoppers. Cruelty is unacceptable no matter who you are. It’s sad that he didn’t know that.
What a good heart you had, even as a preschooler, Mitch!
🧡
Wow, Mitch. Childhood could be way more sobering than we initially remember it. So many differences, so much confusion, sometimes.
Very true, Carol.
Last time I heard someone refer Down Syndrome’s as a Mongoloid was few years back. He was my ex-boss. I was shocked when I heard him that time.
Btw, I still cannot forget what you did to Frieda’s birds 🤣
;>)
I had a very good friend when i was a kid who had down syndrome i never noticed her disability when i was a kid i only noticed that she was one of my best friends on the planet. I have forgotten her name. It was a long time ago.
🧡
I am liking that string tree idea. just about 60 years past trying that one. The Grasshoppers are another story. Your tale sounds very familiar Mitch. I bet there was at least one ant crushing and spider/grasshopper leg pulling Eddie in every neighbourhood. We had a lovely girl on our street with Down Syndrome. My mother made sure we knew the proper language around that. My younger sister would play with her regularly while I took up the “don’t tease Brenda, or you’ll answer to my fist” position.
Sir Randy to the rescue!
I’m so glad you freed the grasshoppers. I would like to think I’d do the same. Love your stories.
Aw, thank you, Andi.
What a story… and a great lesson for us all. Thank you, Mitch.
My pleasure, Janet.
Quite an eventful childhood.
I cannot stand cruelty to animals, so I’m glad you freedom the grasshoppers. Hopefully it went on to make a lasting positive impact on Eddie so he would learn not to hurt anymore grasshoppers. I’m also glad you made time for someone who was a bit different. We are shaped by all kinds of people and it sounds like you learnt a lot from knowing him.
I did, Mez.
*freed
It’s remarkable how, as a young child, you took it upon yourself to rescue those grasshoppers from cruelty. Your spunk and kind heart were admirable for a youngster. 🙂
🧡
I really like your friend Eddie, Mr. Teemley, and I like your story too. Even though hurting the grasshoppers wasn’t a good thing to do, I don’t think Eddie knew any better at the time. You were probably too young to know how to explain it to him, too.
I have all sorts of friends from age six to sixty, and I find every one of them interesting, that’s why I call them friends! I also have a friend who has CDKL5 deficiency disorder (CDD). Even though she faces different challenges, she is a very nice friend. Everyone is just a little bit different in their own way.
P.S. I’m writing this comment under my mother’s (Chetna KS) guidance.
🧡
Love your storoy, Mitch. We had a Down’s Syndrome man in our neighborhood when I was a kid, but he was probably in his 40s or 50s at the time. He lived longer than most of them do. Most of the kids were scared of him, but I don’t ever remember being scared. He used to walk past our house on his way from his mother’s where he lived to his sister’s home where he visited almost every day. He was Roman Catholic, and every car he came to he would bless it. He usually talked a bit though I’m not sure if I was able to understand all he said. His family took very good care of him. When his mom died, his older brother, who also had lived with his mother, took care of him. I think Dominic was quite happy, maybe moreso than some of us so-called “normal” people.
Thank you for sharing this, Diane. It makes my heart glad to hear it❣
The natural heart of a child can love without restraint. It’s when we grow up that we learn to become distant and cold.
ah, the innocence of little ones…that’s sweet.
Thank you, Virginia.
Tu as fait revenir de ma mémoire cette fille (dans une colonie de vacances où j’étais moniteur) dont le nom était Deschamps et que ses parents avaient prénommée Fleur. Une partie des adultes trouvaient que ce n’était pas une bonne idée. Ceux qui trouvaient au contraire qu’il y avaient harmonie entre une certaine lenteur chez Fleur et celle des plantes à pétales et odeurs agréables, étaient pour la plupart ceux qui savaient lui parler et lui prendre la main.
Merci pour ton partage.
(Mon anglais n’est pas très bon, j’espère que la traduction automatique fera passer ce que j’ai voulu mettre dans mes mots.)
Très clair, et très touchant. 🧡
Pingback: How Mom Taught Me to Express Myself - Mitch TeemleyMitch Teemley
Pingback: The Year I Turned Shy - Mitch TeemleyMitch Teemley