Random Thoughts from Childhood Series – Potato Chips

April 5, 2010

POTATO CHIPS

It was late summer 73’ and I had gone down to the office and entered the lower level which was a basement. I walked down this tight narrow hallway and noticed on the left wall three buttons lined top to bottom next to a wood door with a handle.  I stopped and grabbed the handle and pulled up to see what was inside.  The door hit the top and inside was dirty dishes.  A couple of different size plates, a coffee cup, and silverware.   I realized it was a miniature elevator, a butler elevator.  I had never seen one in person before but, had seen them used in some TV programs and movies.  I ran out of the building to find my brother and to tell him what I had found.

I found my brother and in great excitement, I told him about the mini elevator and he went and grabbed two other kids and we headed back to the office basement.  I pointed the elevator out to them and opened the door so they could see what was inside.  Suddenly, one of the kids said take out the dishes and let’s see where it goes.  It sounded good to me so I removed the dishes and placed them on the floor around the corner.  We all stared inside the empty elevator and realized that it was an extremely small area.  Who was going to get inside?  Then the other kids and my brother at the same time turned their heads and looked at me.  My brother said I was the smallest one and told me to climb up inside.  I climbed inside and it was very tight.  I had to pull my knees to my chest but, I fit!  Someone pulled the door down and just as it shut I heard an adult yell “What are you boys doing?” followed by “You do not belong down here and need to leave.”  My heart starts to pound!  I think “Did he see me climb in?”  I sit completely silent and can hear the other kids exit the building and hear the door close behind them.  I wait for several minutes and hearing nothing, I pull the door open and sneak a quick look and notice the coast is clear.  I jumped out and ran for the exit.  I burst through the door and ran to find the other kids.  I had just dodged a bullet.

I met up with the other kids later in the evening to formulate a plan on how we can use the elevator and for what.  An older kid was brought in and he recommended that we use the elevator to get into the kitchen and raid it for goodies.  I thought that was a great plan!  I automatically had visions in my head of cookies, cakes, and candy.  It was decided the raid would happen tomorrow evening after the staff left for the day.  I went to bed in great excitement thinking about the well crafted plan we had come up with and felt that I could barely wait for tomorrow.

I woke up and started my daily routine and the day flew by.  The time had come to place our plan into motion.  We get to the elevator and I climb up inside and the other kids tell me to look for candy, cake and cookies.  The door is closed and the elevator jerks into motion and slowly heads up to the kitchen on the second floor.  The elevator comes to a stop and I pause for a moment and listen to make sure no adult was still inside the kitchen.  I hear nothing and open the door and poke my head out and scan left to right before I climb out.  I climb out and notice the counter tops, appliances, and food racks where made of shiny stainless steel.  I have never seen such a clean room.  I turn left and notice the evening sun setting and how beautiful the deep orange light was as it filtered through the trees outside and entered the west windows.  The light struck the stainless steel which scattered into pieces, reflecting like a disco ball.   It hits me that I see no food at all.  The kitchen racks and shelves where empty and I could see no sign of food anywhere.  I did not plan for this and was not sure what to do.  I walked around and looked in every nook and cranny and nothing!  What kind of kitchen has no food?  I realize I’m taking too long and just as panic starts to swell up inside me, I notice a beam of sun light shooting across the room. The dust particles are swirling inside the light beam and seem to ride the light across the room.  I follow the beam to its end and notice it was lighting up a large tin canister.  I cross the room and notice it’s a container of potato chips.  What a beautiful sight, it was lit up like a fine piece of jewelry inside a glass case.  I get within grabbing distance from the chips and then freeze.  It seemed out of place and what if it was a trap?  Was I the mouse in this case?  The moment passed quickly and I grabbed the canister and headed to the elevator but, before I placed it inside I decided to open and make sure there were chips inside.  I pried the lid open and it was full of chips!  I grabbed one and ate it and that was one good chip!  I placed the canister in the elevator and realize there was not enough room for me and the canister.  I quickly decided to send the chips first, so I closed the door to the elevator and pushed the down button.  The kids below sent the elevator backup to me.  I opened the door and climbed inside and pull the door down.  It hits me that with the door closed, I could not push the elevator button!  I open the door and reach out and push the button.  Nothing happens!  Dang!  The door must be closed for the elevator to work.  I close the door and just as I decide to yell, the elevator lurches and starts to go up.  That’s the wrong the direction!

I knew the third floor held several bedrooms and figured an adult was calling the elevator to put dishes inside.  I buried my face in my knees and did my version of the Wizard of Oz.  I kept repeating to myself “I’m not here…  I’m not here…”  My heart is pounding and it becomes hard for me to breath.  The elevator comes to a stop and just as the anticipation becomes unbearable, the elevator starts going down.  I get to the basement and open the door and the other kids are laughing.  They thought it would be funny to send me to the third floor and I guess it was for them but, not so much for me.  It was dusk now and we hustle back behind cottage one and two.  We place the canister of chips down by a tree that had a rope and tire as a swing and began to gorge ourselves.  I think I had shiny lips for a week after eating all those potato chips and decided the overall experience was not worth ever doing again, so ended my only successful heist.

Random Thoughts from Childhood Series – Toy Gun

February 17, 2010

TOY GUN

Before I can start this story, I must return to the beginning when my brother and I first arrived.  We met the house parent Tony for the first time and he went over a set of rules we must follow.  The one rule I remember is the no gun policy.  We could not have a toy gun, use an object as pretend guns, or use our fingers as guns.

I believe it was a week or two since I got back from the hospital because I still had a patch on my right eye.  All the kids where lining up to get their allowance and I thought for sure I would not get mine because I had been in the hospital and did not do my chores.  I got in line anyway and waited my turn.  To my surprise fifty cent was slid out of the change envelope and handed to me.  The house parent marked my name off and I turned to leave and looked for my brother.  I found him and in great excitement headed to the corner store to purchase candy.  We exited the back gate at Ivy House and hung a left and ran to the corner store.  We entered the front glass doors and headed for the candy section, but before I could get there a beautiful red and white toy ray gun caught my eye.  I do not know what it was about this gun, but it pulled at me like a light to a flying insect.  I picked the gun up and started pointing it at everything I saw.  I had to have this gun!  I called my brother over and said “Let’s buy this gun!”  I looked at the price and reached into my pocket and pulled out my allowance and realized I did not have enough money to buy the gun.  My impulse to have this gun was so strong that I quickly formulated a plan to get this gun.  I was going to steal it!   I grabbed the gun and pretended that I was invisible and simply was going to walk out the store and no one would ever know.  My plan was flawed!  I was not invisible and the store manager yelled “Stop.”  I’d been caught!   The gun was taken from me and the manager asked where we lived.  I said Ivy House and he stepped behind the counter and picked up the phone and called someone.  The manager hung up the phone and told us to go home.

I was so scared.  I knew Tony was the house parent on duty and all that went through my head was “No guns.”  Not only did I try to steal, but it the item was a gun.  The walk back seemed to take hours though it had only been about ten minutes.  My brother and I walked through cottage one doors and there stood Tony waiting to intercept us.  I stood in front of him in shame looking at the ground.  He told me to look him in the face and asked why I tried to steal?  Without wasting a moment, I said because I did not have enough money to buy it.  To my surprise his chin started to quiver and his eyes swelled up with tears!  He bent down and picked me up and kissed me on the left check.  Not sure if it was because I was wearing an eye patch or that I told the truth.  Anyhow, he set me down and told my brother and me that he was taking us back to the store for us to apologize to the manager.  He walked us back down to the corner store and made us wait at the front glass doors to the store as he went in to talk with the manager.  After a brief moment, Tony motioned for us to come in.  Tony then told the manager that we had something to tell him.  I looked at the manager and told him I was sorry for trying to steal from him. At this point Tony told us to head back to the cottage and wait for him.  We both got back and took a seat on the green couch.   My head was swirling and the anticipation of his return put my stomach in knots.   Tony walked through the door and came up to me.  I stood up from my seat and he knelt down and told me the next time if I wanted something not to steal it, but come and talk with him.  He then pulled from behind his back the ray gun I had tried to steal and handed it to me.  I was speechless!  I was in conflict!  What about the rule?  I simply said thank you and ran off with my new ray gun yelling POW POW………………

Random Thoughts from Childhood Series – Oh What a Day

January 22, 2010

OH WHAT A DAY

I really enjoyed the catholic school that I was placed into because the class size was much smaller than the public school and no one teased or picked on me.  The trade off was that I had to wear a cheesy uniform of plaid shorts, white button up shirt and a clip on tie. There were variations of the uniform and I seemed to wear the wrong combination all too often.  The other trade off was punishment by the head Nun should one step out of line.  That punishment was a ruler to the palm of the hand and the number of times you where struck on the palm depended on the infraction.  I had this punishment several times and OH how I hated that ruler!

I had a habit of spacing out and being completely oblivious to my surrounding.  Maybe I had A.D.D., but whatever the case was I seemed to zone out at the most inappropriate time.  I sat in the front row in class and this one time during lecture, I stood up as if I was the only one in the room and walked to the back of the room where the wall was lined with closets.  I stepped inside the closet and closed the door partway and proceeded to go through the other student’s lunches.  I ate someone’s Twinkie and took a bite out of someone else’s peanut butter sandwich.  I suddenly hear a faint noise in the background and then snap out my trance.  I hear the teacher yelling my name and telling me to remove myself from the closet and come to the front of the class immediately!  All the other students just stared at me in silence as I walked to the front of the class.  I was grabbed by the arm and escorted out of the class and down the hall to the head Nun.  I was placed inside her office and spent a brief moment by myself as the teacher explained what happened to the Nun.  I just knew I would be punished with the dreaded ruler.  I started guessing in silence on how many times my palm would be hit, when suddenly the door opened and the Nun stood there with hands on her hip shaking her head.  The door closed and she said nothing.  She walked to her desk and opened a drawer and out came the RULER.  I wanted to cry, but refused to let her see any tears.  She grabbed my left hand and said I would be getting ten hits! I gasped and screamed TEN!

She would always count out loud, ONE TWO, THREE, after each strike.  The first few always hurt the most and then the hand would become numb.  The punishment began and as she reached THREE the most wonderful thing happened.  I can’t believe it!  It was the sweetest sight, pure nirvana!  The ruler broke in two and I watched in slow motion as the broken piece flipped into the air and ricocheted off her desk and hit the ground.  The hated ruler lost and I won!  Figuring she had to be done, I went to turn and head for the door and she said, “Where are you going?”  I stared in sheer horror as she opens another drawer and pulls out a new ruler.  The terror did not stop there.  The drawer was full of dozens of rulers!  Oh crap!  The really sad part was that I actually thought that was the only ruler and not once considered the existence of others.    Sad I know!  She finishes NINE, TEN, and then I’m told to return to class.

I get back just in time for confession.  This is my first confession and I have no idea what to expect.  We walk single file to the chapel and enter in groups of five.  I’m in the second group that enters and we watch as each person walks into a small closet and closes the door.  I faintly hear each one start with “Forgive me father for I have sinned” followed by something they did wrong.  My heart starts to race and I begin to panic.  It’s my turn and my legs feel like lead as I enter and close the door.  I hear the priest say “Yes son” and I stand there in silence.  My head is spinning and I’m trying to think of something bad I did, but draw a blank.  Suddenly, I know what to say and I begin with “Forgive me father for I have sinned” and I hear “Go ahead.”  I make something up and say “I stole a lollipop from my brother.”  I’m told to do two Hail Mary’s and then I exit the room. Will this day ever end?  I just want to go home to Ivy House.

The irony of the confession was that I lied, which was a sin.  So I committed a sin to tell a sin and completely forgot about the sin I just committed early in the day by stealing someone’s lunch.   I really have a knack of making my life harder than it needs to be but hey, I’m a kid and there’s plenty of time to correct that……………

Random Thoughs from Childhood Series – Hospital Stay

November 24, 2009

The police cruiser arrives at the Philadelphia Eye Institute and I’m whisked inside where a nurse places me into a wheelchair.  I see the officer talking to a lady as he turns and smiles at me, then turns and leaves the building.  That is the last time I saw the officer who helped me.  I’m wheeled back to a room where I get placed into a special chair with funny looking equipment attached to it.  The doctor slides the equipment over to my face and asks me to stay still while he looks into my good eye first and then the damaged eye.  He looks into the damaged eye in silence and only shakes his head side to side.  He pushes his chair back and tells me to relax.  He grabs some eye drops and places several into both eyes and then places patches on both eyes.  He tells me that the nurse will be in to take me to my room.  I sit in darkness and run through the events in my head that landed me here in the hospital.  I become scared for the first time as the sinking feeling of isolation sets in and wonder whether anyone knows that I’m at this hospital.  The nurse comes and assures me that everything will be okay and proceeds to wheel me to my room.  I want to cry but, fear the tears will sting.  I get placed into a bed and I’m told that they need to set an IV line and that I will feel a little prick.  The nurse says she is finished and again tells me that it will be okay.  She tells me that the medicine they are giving me will help me sleep.  I feel warmth crawling up my arm and become scared and then suddenly everything goes blank.

I’m gently woken up, what I think is the next day, and told someone is in the room to see me.  I then hear my mom’s sobbing voice asking me how I feel.  She then tells me that this is her third day of coming to see me, but I’ve been  asleep.  I feel really groggy and slip in and out of consciousness.  I’m awoken again by a nurse and told to try and eat my breakfast and that afterwards she would give me a sponge bath.  I barely eat and wait for the nurse to return.  I try to open my eyes but, see only darkness.  I reach up with my hands to feel my face and realize that the patches are still on both eyes.  I’ve lost all sense of time and place.  My head is so cloudy at this point and I can barely finish a thought before it drifts out of my reach.  I hate how I feel!  The nurse returns and begins to bath me.  The warm water feels so good, as the sponge runs over my body.  I’m told that the IV will be removed later on today, and I drift back to sleep.

The nurse gently awakes me and I open my eyes and see what I think is an angel standing at the foot of my bed.  She tells me to eat my breakfast and then I would be getting another sponge bath.  I place my hands on my face and feel that I still have a patch on my right eye but, the patch was removed from my left eye.  I don’t feel as groggy this time and start to look around the room to see my surroundings.  The room is small with two chairs against a wall and a nightstand next to my bed with a phone.  I pull my breakfast toward me and attempt to eat.  The nurse returns and tells me that I really need to eat more to get better and asks me if I’m ready to get my sponge bath.  I nod my head yes and she proceeds to bath me.  She finishes and tells that she now has to give me an enema.  What is an enema?  I soon find out!  The nurse has officially lost her angel status.

A week had passed before the other patch got removed from my right eye.  I see a doctor everyday but, sense there is nothing that can be done and feel that I’ve become a case study.  I had to sit through as ten plus doctors took turns looking at my eye and talking to one another about seeing crystals in the back of my eye and how the pupil was irregular.  Not a single doctor talked to me.  I especially hated having the pressure of my eye taken.  The machine had to be touching the eye and had a purple light I had to stare directly into without blinking and then a puff air was shot into the eye.  It quickly became apparent that seeing a doctor was painful and very uncomfortable.  How I longed to leave this place!

I was sent back to my room and told to try and use the bathroom on my own.  I walked into the bathroom and got my first look at my face since the accident.  It was black and blue around my right eye with the whites of my eye red with blood.  The pupil was torn and my vision had not improved since that last time I had looked out that eye prior to arriving at the hospital.  I attempt to use the bathroom and then return to my bed.  I was given pills to take that made me very drowsy.  I awake later in the day to find my mom sitting in the chair.  She see’s that I had opened my eyes and stands to approach me.  She asks how I feel and tells me that all I do is sleep.  She says that she asked the nurses not to drug me so much but, was not sure they listened.  A nurse walks in and tells me that I have a special person on the phone that wants to talk to me.  My mom turns to the nurse and before she can say anything is asked to leave the room to give me privacy.  The nurse says “go ahead and pick up the phone” and then walks out.  I pick up the phone and the voice on the other side is my dad.  I can’t believe I’m talking to my dad!  I’m asked how I feel and how he wished he could be here with me.  We talked for a short while and he told me he had to go because he was calling from overseas but, would call me again in a couple of days.  I said bye and hung up the phone.  It was so good to hear my dad’s voice!  It had been almost two years.  My mom returned to the room and asked me who was on the phone?  I simply said dad.  Nothing else was said.  She came over and kissed my forehead and said she had to leave and would try to come and see me tomorrow.  I got to talk to my dad several more times, my mom came to see me almost every day, and even Ivy House kids came to see me over the next two weeks.  Three weeks had passed and I finally was getting released to return to Ivy House.  I was so excited to be leaving the hospital that I rushed through my goodbyes with the nursing staff and asked to be taken home…………….

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-My Eye

October 9, 2009

MY EYE

I was excited to be finishing my clay piggy bank today.  A few days earlier a group of us kids worked on clay banks and today we get to finish them by painting them with glaze and getting them fired.  The group of us raced out the door and headed to the office building where we would work on our banks.  The group rushed into the door and raced down the stairs to the ceramic room.  Everyone gathered by the shelve that held the pottery while I finished up the rear.  I heard lots of ooh’s and aah’s as I entered the room.  Apparently, one of the clay banks had vines growing out of it.  The clay bank turned out to be mine.  I grabbed it and stared at it for a brief moment and realized someone had placed watermelon seeds throughout my clay bank.  The seeds sprouted and each vine was about three inches long.  Once the weirdness of seeing vines growing out of my bank, it hit me that I would not be able to glaze my bank.  While the other kids started to glaze, I had to start a new bank.  I was really bummed out.  I so wanted to open a can to see what color of glaze was inside.

I just did not have the patience to start a new bank.  I went over to the shelves where the glaze was kept and grabbed a can.  I had this strong internal push to find out what was inside this pint size can.  Apparently, time flew by and it was close to lunch time and we were told to head back to our cottage to eat and take medicine.  (Well it seemed that one of us always had some infestation.  Head lice were the big one that most of us got but, some of us also had body lice and one of us had a parasite called pinworms.  Unfortunately for my brother, he was the one with pinworms.  The worms are very contiguous which required the kids in cottage one to take medicine to help us from contracting the worms.) As the other kids left the room, I positioned myself towards the back of the group so I would be the last one leaving the room.  I grabbed the can of glaze I had been admiring and slipped it under my shirt and headed out the room to catch up with the rest of the group.  The group took off running toward the cottage and I lagged behind a bit.  I made sure I was the last one to enter the cottage but, I could not risk taking the can inside with me.  There was an L shaped fence that hid the trash cans at the front entrance so I tossed the can back by the fence and out of view. I then entered the cottage.  I took my medicine and headed to the kitchen to eat lunch.  I actually forgot about the can and instead played with the other kids.  It was late afternoon before I remembered the can I had left out front.  I went to get it but, first I needed something to open it with.  I snuck into the kitchen and grabbed a spoon and went out the front door over to the can.  I looked around to make sure no one was watching and picked up the can and headed to the back of cottage one.

In the back we had an above ground pool that I believe we only got to use one summer.  It seemed that the maintenance was more than Ivy House had anticipated.  The pool water looked like a nasty science project gone wrong.  As I walked to the pool, I kept my head on a swivel to make sure I was not seen nor followed.  I notice men working on the utility poles just off Ivy House grounds.  They didn’t seem to notice me so I kneeled down by the pool and pulled the spoon out of my pocket and began to pry up on the can lid.  Just as I had the lid almost popped open, I took a quick look around to make sure the coast was still clear.  I turned back to the can and pried one last time and as the seal broke on the lid, BANG! It exploded into my face.  I dropped the can and put both hands to my face.  I stood up and staggered a couple of feet and then collapsed to the ground screaming.   I was afraid to remove my hands from my face and had great trouble standing up without using my hands and arms to help push myself up.  I heard footsteps running toward me and someone reached down and scooped me up.  The person was a man that kept asking me where I was hit.  I was confused by the word HIT!  As he carried me toward the office, I found myself removing my left hand from my face and slowly opening my left eye.  Everything looked to be normal out my left eye.  The man carrying me was husky and had facial hair and wore a yellow hard hat.  He rushed me to the office as he was yelling for help and I could see a group of adults running out the front door and coming towards us.  I was asked repeatedly what was wrong with me and where it hurt.  They saw no outwardly damage on my body such as bleeding or trauma at first glance.  I overheard the utility worker explaining to the other adults that he heard what he thought was a gunshot and witnessed me fall to the ground.  He thought I had been shot by a gun.  The explosion was that loud!  The other adults asked me to remove my hand from my right eye so they could check for damage.  I slowly removed my hand but, would not open my right eye.  I heard someone say the outside of my eye was very swollen and was turning black and blue.  I was taken inside the office and asked to open my eye.  I was petrified to obey their request and after several more times of asking me and assuring me that it would be ok, I slowly opened my right eye.  I could see no object in detail and everything in my vision had a yellow orange hue.  There seemed a lack of knowing what to do next by the adults.  Finally, someone called the police.

A police cruiser pulled up in front of the office and the officer quickly approached the front door.  I could only make out gibberish between the officer and Ivy House adults.  The officer walked briskly over to me and picked me up and rushed to his cruiser.  I was placed into the back seat by myself and with the lights and siren turned on the officer sped off.  I was strangely calm at this point and relished the fact that I was in a police car with the lights on and siren blaring. I remember at one point having to grab the front seat to keep from sliding off the backseat as we went around each corner.  Suddenly the officer whipped into an emergency room entrance, hopped out and retrieved me from the backseat and rushed me into the hospital.  I saw the officer flag a doctor and the doctor came over to look at my right eye.  I saw him turn and he then whisper something to the officer and before I knew it, I’m rushed back outside and placed into the cruiser.  The officer speeds off to the next hospital. I’m rushed into the next emergency room and placed onto a bed.  A doctor comes in and looks at my right eye.  He leaves and comes back in with saline solution and proceeds to flush my right eye.  After several flushes I overhear the doctor telling the officer that there was nothing he could do for me and that I needed to be taken to a specialist.  I was scooped up once more and placed into the cruiser and raced to the next hospital that turned out to be the Philadelphia Eye Institute.

Apparently, the mistake I made, other than taking the paint can to begin with was that I left the can in the sun on a very hot summer day. There was great confusion as to exactly what had happened. The can was supposed to be kept at room temperature and by placing it outside in the sun, the pressure built inside the can and when I broke the seal the lid exploded up into my face hitting me in the right eye.   At least that’s the theory I was told once I returned to Ivy House and I will agree that sounds about right……….

Random Thoughts from Childhood Series-The Visits

September 22, 2009

THE VISITS

There were several types of visits from family members while in Ivy House.  The first one involved a family member coming to Ivy House and meeting in a cottage.  I don’t recall ever having one myself with an adult family member at cottage one, but I do remember this one kid having a family member show up.  It played out with the adult walking to the cottage and us kids acting like puppies in a pet store jockeying for the best position to get attention.  A group of my peers and me performed the bump (a dance in the 70’s) for this one adult.  It must have been overwhelming for this adult as she was simply trying to enjoy her visit, but was being pestered like flies at picnic from all us kids.

I do recall several visits at the office with my little brother and sister.  The office provided a more private setting to meet and kept other kids out.  Each time my brother and I met our younger siblings in a private room with books and toys.  We would be escorted in the room and an adult would close the door leaving just us four in the room.  This visit was always awkward for me.  I never knew what to say or how I was supposed to act or what the meaning of the visit meant.  I never knew when the visits would happen which took place only about two or three times while I was in Ivy House.  These meetings normally lasted about an hour.  The closed door sessions made me feel like a rat in an experiment.  Us four kids with the door closed and adults watching through windows.  Each one played out the same.  My little brother playing with toys by himself on other side of room and I would be staring at my sister while my older brother said “Hey.”

The last type of visit was off Ivy House grounds.  If you were lucky enough, I thought, you would get to stay at a family’s house for the weekend.  These visits like the rest where never announced a head of time nor did you ever know if this would be your first or last visit while in Ivy House.  They could be four months, nine months, a year, or more between each one.  There never seemed to be a rhyme or reason for the timing between visits.  My brother and I on several occasions got to spend the weekend with our mom.  A year had gone by before our first visit with our mom.  This was the first time since being place at Ivy House that either of us got to see or speak to our mom. I was extremely excited to see her the first time and thought my brother and I were going home for good.

We got to her small apartment,  shown our room and then we plopped down to watch TV.  She went into the kitchen to make us a meal.  She came out and sat between us and started to cry.  She told us how much she missed us and how she was going to get us out of Ivy House.   At this point, I thought my brother and I were done with Ivy House and figured she had miss spoken about getting us out.  I was kissed on the cheek and she headed back to the kitchen.  I spent the rest of the day swimming in my excitement of being home.  I went to bed that night feeling on top of the world.  Sometime during the night I left my room and climbed in bed with my mom.  The next morning she made us breakfast and the three of us sat and ate together.  As the day wore on my mom’s demeanor changed from happy to hostile.   She started making comments about how Ivy House was not taking care of us properly, how we were dressed in rags, and how Ivy House would not let her have us.     Then the bomb shell!  Pack your stuff because I have to return you to Ivy House.  I start crying and ran back to the bedroom.  My head is spinning and I’m flooded with emotions.  I don’t understand!  My mom became short and yelled at us to get our stuff.  Suddenly all these questions started running through my head.  Why do we have to go back?  What did we do wrong?  Do we have to go back?  Then the anger kicked in and my thoughts turned to my Mother.  Don’t you love us?  Where have you been since we got to Ivy House?  Why have you not visited or called us in Ivy House?  Why would you send us back?  I said nothing!  I grabbed my stuff and stomped out to the car crying.  On our way back to Ivy House, she stated that she would get us out of Ivy House by next weekend.  She dropped us off at the office and I stood there crying as she drove down the street.  I ran back to cottage one and headed to my room.  I cried myself to sleep that night.  The next morning the emotional pain stilled lingered, but it was offset by knowing we would be going home for good by the end of the week.

The week flew by and with great excitement I started telling the other kids how I was leaving for good on Saturday.  My trash bag was packed and I waited by the main doors of cottage one looking out the pane glass windows for my mom.  I was so excited that I could barely stand still.  The morning dragged into lunch, but I refused to eat because I did not want to miss my mom walking toward the cottage to get me.   By late afternoon I sat on the floor next to my belongings and had a strange feeling that she would not show.  A house parent walked by and patted me on my back and said it would be OK and then continued to his post.  It was dinner time, but I did not feel like eating.  I picked up my bag and dragged it back to my room and cried myself to sleep.  This same example played out several more times while I was in Ivy House.  I know that my mom meant well and sincerely believed what she was saying, but at such a young age I saw things very black and white.  That meant she lied and could not be trusted!  My brother and I were alone again!  I’m not sure the emotional high of each visit was worth the wrenching pain I felt each time this saga played out.  After each off grounds visit I would go through the same emotional bombardment as I did the first time I was placed in Ivy House. A matter of fact, I believe it would have been much less disruptive to me if the off grounds visits never happened.  However, I guess I should be thankful for the ones I had because many of the other kids never had this opportunity…….

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-All for One, One for All

September 9, 2009

ALL FOR ONE, ONE FOR ALL

My brother and I left Ivy House grounds to go goof off and play down the street.  We were on our way back and in sight of Ivy House when suddenly the both of us are confronted by three boys acting very aggressively. The boys surround us and ask for our money.  Neither of us had any money and told them so.  They proceeded to call us liars and pushed my brother.  I turn and look towards Ivy House and see a group of about seven boys heading in our direction.  I think “Oh crap” we are really in trouble now and just as I finish this thought, the three boys start to back down and distance themselves from us.   I think “Here is our break and I’m ready to make a run toward Ivy House.”  I hear the large group of boys yelling at the three that where near us to leave us alone.  As the group got closer, I realized the group where from Ivy House.  The three boys ran off and some from the group ran after them briefly to simple make sure they left.  The group asked if we where okay and my brother and me responded “Yes.”  One of the boys said he saw the three boys approach us and figured they were trouble and rounded up a group to make sure we where okay.  They were older boys from cottage three and I heard one of them say “If you mess with one of us from Ivy House, you mess with all.”

I’ll have to say that hearing that made me feel empowered and proud.  This was the first time I had any peers come to my defense.  I realized that all of us kids at Ivy House were a part of “something” and that “something” whether good or bad was going to unfold and reveal its self over time and that I simply was along for the ride.  I was also struck by the fact that it’s just not about me, but about all of us kids at Ivy House.   It did not matter your ethnic back ground, gender, or circumstances that brought us together.  We all had the same thing in common; the place we called home.  For me, I felt the other kids staying at Ivy House were like additional brothers and sisters and we had a common bond.  The bond was that we all knew what it was like to be without our families and never knew when or if we would ever see them again…..

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-The Psychologist

August 22, 2009

THE PSYCHOLOGIST

I woke the next morning nervous, but curious about the person I was to meet today.  Even though there were no witnesses to my act of violence, I was still ashamed of my behavior at the park yesterday and feared eating breakfast with the rest of the kids. I believed I would rightfully be judged for my dreadful outburst at the park.  I sucked it up and headed down to eat.  No one said or acted like anything had happened and my trepidation subsided.  I headed outside to play with the other kids.  After several hours of playing, I went back to my cottage and ate lunch.  I cleaned up my mess from lunch and headed back outside.  I had been playing briefly when a house parent came out and asked me to head to the office.  “Oh boy” I thought and headed down to where I was told to go.  I enter the front door and I’m escorted down the hall and into a room.  Sitting inside was a man with a beard that I had not seen before.  The door closed behind me and I was asked to take a seat.  By now, I’ve become pretty accustomed to my situation and surroundings that I find myself in and of course thinking the worst.  I think to myself, “I have no excuse for my behavior at the park and have no idea what I will say.”  My heart pounds with anticipation of the questions that may be asked…….

The man leans forward and asks “Your name is Mat, Right?”

Me: Yes

Man: “How are you doing?”

Me: I mumble “Fine.”

Man: “How do you feel about living here at Ivy House?”

Me: Um (I do not understand the question)

Man: “You know how do you feel about your living arrangements?”

Me: What?  I don’t know ( what’s living arrangements?)

The man stares at me and reaches for a file.  He fumbles with the file and opens it and then starts turning pages in the file.  He takes a deep breath and states he is here to help.  He tells me that I’m not in trouble and that he is going to ask me questions.  He tells me to answer them as best I could and that there is no wrong or right answer.   All I heard at this point was that I was not in trouble, so I relax.  This really loosens me up as I slump in my chair and prepare myself for any additional questions.

Man: Tell me about school?

Me: I don’t like it.

Man:  Why is that?

Me:  I don’t know.

Man: Give me an example of what you don’t like?

Me:  I don’t respond.  (What’s an example?)

Man:  What kind of things makes you angry?

Me: I don’t know.  (Things?)

This goes on for about an hour.  My head is spinning!  I sense he is trying to help, but his line of questions eludes me.  I’m finally told my time was up and I could leave.  I exit the room and think “What was that about?”  I desperately try to process what just happened, but cannot.  I open the front door of the office and head outside.  I see kids playing and run to join in on the fun….

I do not think in the early 1970’s there was many child psychologists, so I believe I was seeing an adult psychologist based on the fact that he asked adult questions.

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-A Day at the Park

August 16, 2009

DAY AT THE PARK

I was going into my second summer at Ivy House and my emotional outbursts had diminished quite a bit.  However, like a dormant virus it could strike at anytime with no warning.  Though I looked adjusted and played with the other kids and would laugh and have fun, I was still a fully operational explosive device waiting to go off.  I had no control over the when and where I would explode, let alone know what the catalyst would be to set me off.

It was late summer 1973 and I was preparing to enter the second grade.  A group of us younger kids were taken to a local park to spend the day.  I removed my shoes and left them at the van and ran off with the other boys to head down to a creek and look for crawfish.  We spent sometime over turning rocks and having no luck in finding any crawfish, we headed further down the creek to find a better location.  Along the way I found an empty coffee can and decided to grab it, as it would be the perfect holder for my catch.  The other kids and I started to lift rocks to expose any crawfish and after a few minutes we hit the jackpot!  Every rock we lifted thereafter had crawfish under them and I started filling my can.  I think I had ten or fifteen crawfish when I heard the adult that brought us, yell “It’s time to go.”  The other boys headed back to the van, but I stayed back and continued to look for crawfish.  Sometime had gone by before I remembered I had to head back to the van.  I started to panic because I could not see nor hear the group I came with to the park.  In a complete panic, I tried to jump across the creek and came up short, resulting in me landing on rocks that cut into the bottom of my right foot.  I glanced down at my foot and saw a long cut that resembled a paper cut, but slightly deeper.  I got up and pushed forward climbing out of the creek bed and as I enter the top, I ran into a girl from Ivy House.  I recognized her face, but did not know her name.  She saw the can of crawfish and screamed!  Her automatic response was to swat at the can causing me to drop and loose my catch.  I picked up the can and stared at the girl for a few seconds, though it seemed longer, and in a fit of rage, I swung at her forgetting the can was in my hand.  The can struck her in the forehead.  She dropped to the ground with her hands covering her forehead crying. I started screaming at her and running and jumping up and down around her like a maniac and even kicked dirt on her.

As this was going on, I had this sensation like I was outside my body watching the event unfold.  I knew what I was doing was wrong and felt like there was two of me, one bad and one good.  I wanted to stop, I really did, but the good me could not control what was before it! I felt completely out of control….  I so regretted hurting this girl, I really did!!!  This episode had a major impact on me and forced me to try and deal with my behavior issues.  So much so, that this would be the only time I ever attacked anyone while in Ivy House…

I suddenly snapped out of my rage.  I took stock of the moment and quickly threw my can back into the creek.  The wrong of this whole event hit me like a Mack truck!  I panicked and dropped to all fours and began to crawl my way to the top of the bank dragging my right foot as I ascended.  For good measure, I began to cry.  This made it look as though I was really injured and hurting.  This helped hide my shame of how I just reacted and treated this girl.

I don’t really remember what became of the girl, but I was taken back to Ivy House and had my foot cleaned and was told that I had explaining to do.  I was taken to the office and placed into a room.  An adult came in and said I would be meeting with a special person tomorrow and told to go back to my cottage.  I headed back to the cottage looking down at the ground in shame and wondered who this special person was that I was to meet….

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-System Malfunction

July 31, 2009

SYSTEM MALFUNCTION

When I entered Ivy House I felt guilt, fear, anger, loneliness, and emptiness.  Not only did I feel abandoned, but I acquired distrust for adults.  As a young child viewing everything as very black and white, it was always adults that caused me pain during this time of my life.  It was adults that got divorced (my parents), an adult that abused me (mom’s boyfriend), adults removed me from my family, adults placed me in Ivy House, and adults sent me to school which was run by more adults.

To compensate in dealing with these new flush of emotions, my body would react in two distinct ways.  These responses were completely involuntary. With my body already saturated with multiple emotions, ( some I had never experienced before), any additional inflow would result in a complete crash.  When I had an outburst, it worked something like this.  More emotions would flood an already saturated body creating a caustic cocktail.  My fail safe, I’ll call it my internal circuit breaker, was to trip which would keep my emotions from overwhelming me.  It would instead malfunction and not trip. This would cause my emotions to overwhelm my system resulting in one of my uncontrolled outbursts.  However, when dealing with adults something a little different happened.  When confronted by an adult or meeting with an adult about my behavior, my emotions would come to a trickle and my circuit breaker would trip, which put my body in a kind of  lock down mode.  My vocabulary would plummet to about six words;  no, yes, I don’t know, and ‘cause.  On top of that, a protective barrier would encase me.  This turned me into Fort Knox!  No adult could touch me!  I’ll dub this the “Terminator Syndrome.”  With no emotions, how could I get hurt?  I usually sat in silence and used a combination of my six words and a shrug to respond to adult questions.

These involuntary responses made me appear crazy and out of control to the outside world. They were not the responses I wanted to project, basically an uncontrollable melt down kept taking over my body.  I was screaming inside to get out, but was paralyzed by my body’s response to a perceived danger of the outside world.  That in turn, made me at times unable to control my emotions and/or actions.  While the outside world was trying to help me and banging to get in, I was inside banging to get out!  Only time and persistence from me and the outside world was going to crack this safe…..

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-Changes

July 27, 2009

CHANGES

I sit and contemplate my punishment while I finish my lollipop.  Maybe yelling at me or throw in some belt whipping, open hand hits, punching, and finish off with throwing me against a wall.  Heck, this is what would happen to me before Ivy House, so these are the ones that come to mind.  The room door opens up and two adults walk in.  One is male and the other female.  The lady was holding a file. I recognize the man, but have not seen the lady before.  The man takes a seat on the other side of the room and the lady pulls up a chair and sits down while opening the file she is holding.  She begins by politely introducing herself and says she is here to help me.  The man sits quietly and never says anything, he just observes.  The lady starts by asking me “Why did you try to run away?”  She had follow up questions like, “Why do you feel that way?” “How does that make you feel?” “What is it that you do not like about school?” and “What can we do to make things easier?”     Other than telling her “I did not like school” and in no particular order, my response with any of the questions she asked was “I don’t know,” “Because” and my personal favorite, shrugging of the shoulders.  She seemed to take my responses well.  She never raised her voice and seemed to be very sincere.  Both adults got up and stepped outside the room.  I could hear whispering, but could not make out what was being said.  The man re-entered the room and asked me to return to my cottage.

Ivy house was somewhat structured.  What I mean by somewhat, is that Ivy House was not a free for all nor was it run with an iron fist.  All of the kids were given some type of responsibility.  Each of us had to make our beds in morning, keep our rooms picked up, and had to rotate setting and clearing the dining room table for each meal.  Providing we did all our chores, every Saturday we would receive a 50 cent allowance.  Additionally, on Sunday’s all of Ivy House would load up in vans and go to church as a group.  Then after church we would go back to Ivy House and eat as one large group in the office cafeteria.  Furthermore, we were allowed to leave the house grounds to go to local parks and corner stores without chaperons.  There were also group activities like flag football where we would play the other orphanages.  Whenever there was a parade in Philadelphia or a circus came to town we got to go.  There was even a time when Coney Island was opened all day for disadvantaged kids and we got to go and spend the day. Everything from food to rides was free.  I guess what I’m saying is Ivy House was as family oriented as you could be for us kids that lived there.

So it should’ve not surprised me that they went to the lengths they did to try and help me.  After my whole running away fiasco, I finished out that year in public school.  I did not know at the time, but that was going to my final year in public school while I was in Ivy House.  The start of the second grade I was place into a private catholic school.  While everyone else at Ivy House boarded the school bus each morning, an adult had to drive me and pick me up each school day from my new school.  Additionally, to help me with my speech impediment, Ivy House sent me to a speech therapist several times a month, which required someone to have to take me and pick me up.  Finally, Ivy House brought in a psychologist that I would meet at the office twice a month.  Though all these things Ivy House were doing for me did not have an immediate effect, it showed me that they cared!

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-Running

July 12, 2009

RUNNING

More school issues: I had a bad habit in class of eating my pencil like a piece of corn on the cob.  I really never knew I was doing this until a kid in the class would make fun of me by calling me “Beaver”.   I only had this habit while in school.  I was razzed for not being able to keep still in my chair.  I would rock in my chair and not even know that I was doing this until the other kids would start laughing and pointing at me.  It’s obvious that I did not help my cause by bringing this type of attention to myself!  Finally, when the report cards were sent home, I was called to the kitchen area in cottage one to discuss my grades.  I was told that I had straight “E’s” and that they were very proud of me and started patting me on the back and saying “Way to go!”  A brief moment went by and the screaming began.  After carefully reading the fine print the house parent realized that “E” did not stand for EXCELLENT, but stood for failing!  I hate school……

I started to skip school on a regular basis. As you face the front of the school, there is an open grass area with a pathway that leads to the center with a set of steps that lead you up into the main school building.  On each side there is a long wall with thick hedges planted on each side of steps running the length of the building.  For almost a week, each day I would get off the bus and skip school by hiding behind these hedge rows.  I would enter from the side of the hedge and crawl my way to the center of the row.   I would lie against the wall and peer through the branches to see what was going on each day.  The days were very long, especially when the temperature was sitting at 35 degrees plus I went without anything to eat.    I would use the leaves and cover my feet and legs to get extra warmth.  I was finally caught on Friday and simply did not care what would happen to me.  I was determined not to return to school……

I woke up early the next morning and put on my cloths and my fastest pair of sneakers.  Yeah, that would be my red high top converse “chucks.”   I was starting to get nervous about running away and went and talked to a boy down the hall that was the serial runaway.  I slipped into his room and shook him lightly to wake him up.  He looked up at me and asked “What do you want?”  I explained that I was going to run this morning and asked for him to give me tips.  He sat up in bed and said “I will do better than that, I’ll go with you.”  That was great news!   I thanked him and headed to the kitchen to eat my breakfast.  All my problems would soon just disappear!  After a moment, my partner in crime takes a seat next me and inhales his breakfast.  He tells me that we will wait until the other kids head to the bus stop at the front of the office and we would slip out the back door and head for the gate at the back of Ivy House.  We finished breakfast and headed to our rooms to get jackets and anything else we might want to take.  I decided to take nothing with me, but the cloths on my back.  The other kids start to leave for the bus stop and we hang back.  I start to get butterflies in my stomach and have a flood of fear come over me.  I tell my partner and he says “Stay calm, I’ll get you out of here.”  I state that is not what I mean!  I’m over come with guilt because we are getting ready to runaway and it suddenly does not feel right to go through with the plan.  He assures me everything will be fine.  I settle down and prepare myself for the run.

We head out the back door of cottage one and run to get to the back gate.  My heart is pounding and my head is racing!  We hit the back gate; He goes through first and as I exit the gate, I look back and see a house parent bursting out the door of cottage three!  He yells “STOP.”  I think “Oh *hit.”  We both hang a right out the gate and run along the busy street.  I kept peeking back to see were the adult was and he was closing fast.  My partner is running much faster than me and suddenly cuts across the busy street.  I hear screeching tires and horns blaring.  Oh god, I’ve lost sight of him after he crosses the street.  My head is racing and I’m scared to death if I get caught, so I run like I’ve never run before.  I approach the corner up ahead and see a group of people waiting to catch a bus.  I glance back and suddenly someone grabs my arm and says “What is your rush?”  Some guy waiting for the bus was the one who grabbed me and held tight as I wrenched to get away.  The adult chasing me catches up and grabs my arm and thanks the gentleman for stopping me.  My heart was racing and my body is flooded with emotions.  Man, I’m going to get the biggest butt kicking of all time, I think to myself.   We wait for a moment for the man to catch his breath and as he does this, I notice the expression of fear on his face.  Not anger, but fear!  What would he be afraid of?

I can tell on are walk back that look of fear turned to a look of relief.  He asks me “Why did you try to runaway?”  For the first time I actually responded to a question given by an adult and say “I was trying to get away from school.”  There is a little more chit chat, but I walk in silence fully expecting a beat down.  He takes me to the office and places me in a room to wait.  As he leaves, he reaches behind a desk in the room and pulls out a lollipop and hands it to me.  I say thank you and try to figure out if this is an act of kindness or is a cruel trap for the next person to come in and take it from me!      As I sit and wait, I contemplate the big mistake that I just tried and realized this is one mistake I will never make again.  I sit silently sucking my lollipop and thinking of all the terrible things that are probably going to happen to me for being stupid……….

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-School of Pain

July 1, 2009

SCHOOL OF PAIN

Time was not healing my pain or loneliness.  I felt like I was stuck in a whirl pool being pulled down with no way of getting out and could not figure out how to communicate to anyone on how I was feeling.

School became my nemesis!  I had great difficulty relating to the other kids at school and struggled with class time and assignments.  As the school year progressed, the pressure in me kept building and I became a volcano waiting to erupt.  I caught the school bus on a cold winter morning, grabbed my seat like I had done a hundred times before.  I stare blankly out the bus window as the bus arrived at school.  I walked to class and take my seat.  As the class begins, the teacher takes out a stack of cards that have pictures on them and we are to tell her what is on the picture.  My head is racing and I’m praying that I will get a card that I can pronounce correctly without looking really dumb and embarrassing myself.  Each student pronounces his or her word.  Sail boat, Airplane, Car, Building…..  Then it’s my turn and my chest feels very tight.  The teacher pulls a card and asks me to tell her what I see on the card.  I freeze, I’m completely griped with fear and my chest becomes even  tighter. Out of all the possible cards,  I get one of the words that I cannot pronounce.     The picture is of a TRUCK.  I can’t pronounce the TR and always replace it with an F.  The teacher calls me to the front of the class and asks again for me to tell the class what I see.  I state that “I cannot because it’s a bad word.”  The teacher pushes me further until I blurt out *UCK!  The class first gasps then laughs at me.  The teacher has fire in her eyes and sends me to the principal’s office.

The principal calls Ivy House and talks to an adult.  The conversation lasts about five minutes.  The principal hangs up the phone and asks me to come into his office.  I take a seat in front of his desk and I’m asked to explain myself.  Like I’ve done countless times before, I shrug my shoulders while looking at the ground.  I’m told that I will not be riding the bus home, but instead was being picked up by someone from Ivy House.  I’m picked up and sit in silence as we drive back to Ivy House.   Once again, I’m lectured on my behavior, but the sound I hear is simply like listening to the Charlie Brown phone.  I go to bed that evening vowing to never go to school again.

That night I’m very restless and keep going over the events in school in my head.  Then my mind drifts off to my mom.  What if I did not try to help her at the top of the stairs!  Would all of this be happening?  Is she alive?  Is she looking for us?  Will my brother and I ever get to go home?  My mind drifts back to dealing with school.  I’m simply a drop of blood in a sea of sharks at school and I’m determined to put an end to this problem.  I think of solutions to my problem and just keep coming back to my only way out.  That’s it; I’m going to RUN and get as far away as possible from this pain and suffering!  I just know this will fix everything, it has too!  I rest in my cleverness and fall off to sleep…….

Random Thoughts From Childhood-Dark Clouds Building

June 27, 2009

Dark Clouds Building

I was gliding into fall and ready to start the first grade.  A few weeks before school was to start, my brother and I were taken to the office to meet someone.  The adult with us opened a door and asked us to enter.  As I stepped through the door, there standing on the other side of the room was my little brother and sister.  I’ll have to confess that I actually found this to be very awkward.  My little brother was playing with toys and my sister just staring at my brother and me.  I really did not know what to say and was simply confused as to the meaning of the visit.  We only got to spend maybe 45 minutes and then we were asked to leave.  I know the visit was to serve as some kind of therapeutic type meeting, but for me it had the opposite effect.  Up to this point at Ivy House I was so busy adjusting and goofing off that I really had not given the family separation a lot of thought, but after meeting my sister and brother briefly, it became a reminder of what I had lost.  This was the beginning for the internal struggle and loneliness that was going to grip and control me for the foreseeable future.

All the kids at Ivy House waited in front of the office to catch the bus to school.  I boarded the bus and grabbed the first seat available and took in the city sights on the way to school.   I was scared as I entered the classroom and took my seat.  So many firsts for me in such a short time frame, it was all I could do just to try and function normally.  Somehow I made it to recess and right away there are some kids making fun of me.  How is it that the school kids know my predicament?  I told no one and it seems the kids already know!   The first dig thrown out was “Don’t you have a mom or dad?” and “You have no home.”  And as if the first day could not get any worst, a group of older kids take my lunch ticket!  Dam, I hate school!  I dreaded recess and tolerated class time.  My first day came to an end and I was glad to board the bus.  I could not wait to get back to Ivy House.

In the days to follow, I started to ramp up emotionally and had great difficulty controlling them.  I soon realized I did not control my emotions, but instead they controlled me!  I’m not sure what triggered the first event.  I just started tipping tables and chairs inside cottage one and was grabbed by Paul, the acting house parent that day, and could see his lips moving, but could not hear what was coming out of his mouth.  I pulled away and ran out the front door.  Paul and the rest of the kids followed.  Paul chased me around the front lawn, but I kept weaving back and forth and he could not grab me.  At one point he slipped and fell.  All the other kids where egging me on and laughing.  I became tired and headed for a large tree.  I used the tree like a squirrel would do and kept circling it to keep Paul at bay.  I was out of breath and decided to climb the tree to get away.  Just as I grabbed the first branch and went to pull myself up, Paul grabbed my leg and yanked me down.  I was thrown over his shoulder and taken back to the cottage.  All the other kids were hooting and hollering as I was taken inside.   Paul headed down the hall and I thought he was taking me to my room, but instead took me into the bathroom and placed me in the shower and turned on the cold water.  (This would not be my last cold shower) I was told not to come out until I calmed down.   After a few minutes, I turned the cold water off and Paul escorted me to his office at the front entrance of the hallway.  I was asked to explain myself.

I was at a huge disadvantage.  I did not know how to express what was going on with me.  I mean, dam! I only have been speaking for maybe four years and was far from mastering the English language.  On top of that, I had speech impairment!  So I did what only I could do, I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the ground.  I was given permission to leave and headed down to my room to get dry clothes.  The beast within had shown its self and was a prelude for things to come…..

Random Thoughts From Childhood-New Surroundings

June 21, 2009

New Surroundings

What was this place called Ivy House on a funny name street called Conshohocken Avenue? The grounds had four buildings made of red brick surrounded by a half stone wall and chain link fence on top of the wall. The main building was at the only entrance into Ivy House and faced Conshohocken Avenue. I called that building the “office.” The other three buildings where set back to the rear of the office, running left to right in a not so straight line. These buildings where referred to as cottages. Moving left to right, cottage three housed the older boys (teens), cottage two was for older girls (preteen and up), and cottage one was coed six years up to twelve years of age. My brother and I would be calling cottage one home…

We arrived just after lunch and where permitted to explore the grounds. I spotted a set of play bars, a concrete play pipe, and a huge tree in an open field next to the office. In kid fashion, I put a b-line in that direction. I crawled through the pipe and swung on the bars, in this superhero type of speed. Then I stood looking up at this massive tree. There was only one thing to do…. Climb it! It was trickier to climb then I first thought. The bark was very smooth and made traction difficult to get up the tree. I made about four feet up into the tree and found myself stuck on a large slippery branch with not a single person in sight to help me get down. I began to cry… Sometime went by before an adult found me and helped me down. I was told the tree was called “The Running Tree.”

I was escorted with my brother to cottage one and as I entered the steel front door it opened into a commons area with a fire place on the right wall, TV on stand, and seating for about a dozen people. As I made it through the entrance, I was taken to the left into the eating area. There were four picnic type tables lining the center of the room. The kitchen was beyond this room, but I was not given a peek of that area. I was then introduced to the two adults that stay on the premises at all times. That was one adult for each hall that was in cottage one. They where referred to as “House Parents.” The first hall I passed was for all girls and the house parent room was at the entrance of the hall. The house parent assigned to the boy’s was named Tony. Tony had curly afro like hair and had a very stern demeanor to him. He escorted my brother and me to our new room. The hall was very long and narrow with all nine rooms on the left side. Our room was on the very end, just past the main bathroom on right. The room was small with a floor to ceiling built-in closet on the right and two small single beds arranged in an L shape. The beds had a single mattress placed inside wooden boxes. We were given sometime alone in our room and then told to come to the kitchen area to eat dinner and meet the other kids. I made my way to the bathroom first and as I was finishing, two kids entered and we just stared at each other. The silence was broken by one of the kids asking me if I “dime.” (Dime is slang for telling on people) Of course I never heard of such a phrase and figured they must be asking if I had a dime. So my response was yes. The two kids ran off down the hall yelling the new kid dimes! By their yelling, I knew my answer was incorrect. My anxiety builds…………

Side Note: Ivy House was actually run by the Salvation Army. I later found out that it was not an orphanage, but designed to provide home like atmosphere for displaced kids. It allowed single parent mothers time to get treatment and recover from whatever their particular issue was (drugs, abusive boyfriend/husband, etc.) and then return the kid to the mother.

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