Well, off to foster homes I was sent. My mother and “father” were getting a divorce. Little did I know that my father was not my father, my name, which was not really my name. Now at 16 it was all making sense. Now I see why I was not allowed to play little league (as they require proof of age). I had never seen my birth certificate, now I knew why.
My dad, he was a very successful man. He had made his first million young. Born and raised in the Bronx NY. Went to a couple Ivy league schools and got the jobs, respect and money he desired. I am sure that when he ended up in Illinois he saw that as a failure – though he was President of a Fortune 500 company. He moved us to New Jersey to be closer to his family (and further from my mothers). We actually lived next door to Allan Alda for four years, saw him about three times. Grace was our live in maid – she took care of us (four kids by now) as my parents were gone more often than they were around.
Now, I was living on a farm in Garden Prairie Illinois – and I was supposed to feed the cows. I was sharing a room with three other foster kids my age who were all as hard as a felon after years in prison. I was new to this, they knew the deal and the system. My first day there the other kids there decided that it was a good idea to go sniffing WD-40…I walked about 20 miles back to home. My mother was still in jail, my father was out of town – I slept for the first time in a long time in my own bed (after breaking into my dads house).
Time went on…and I was arrested for leaving the foster home and knew that I was not safe any more in my dads house. Though I was less safe in foster homes. I then was homeless. I slept in laundry rooms, elevators, hospitals, and any other place that was warm. Christmas eve 1989 I was 16, alone, homeless and walking down the main road in the city I lived in – right down the center of the road at night in the snow…I walked and tried to get the attention of the police who I knew had a warrant for me as I was a run away from DCFS and they would take me to a warm place that I could get food and warn for X-Mas. No police stopped that night. I stayed that night in a heated elevator at a parking garage, Christmas day I ate at a homeless shelter and slept in a laundry room of an apartment building. That was a good day really. Someone had done laundry that was about my size – I was able to steal a pair of jeans that were my size as well as some heavy winter shirts.
When I think of Christmas, that is all I think of – that year, waking alone in the snow. Here I was – a year ago X-Mas was a deal, granted every year since I can remember my parents were wasted for X-Mas and got into a fight, On more than one occasion we had the police or someone at the house for the holidays. Drinks, drugs, and spending way to much money was X-Mas at the house. That is how it all started really…
When I was in 4th grade my mother got mad at something, now sure what – something. She came into my bedroom and hit me in the head with a Nylint Golden Eagle steel toy truck. That was before my birthday in December, not sure what day it was. I woke up in the hospital days later with some story that I fell down stairs. Sure. I had my jaw wired and was scared as you would be as a kid in that situation.
That year for X-Mas I got a bike, that was my way out. A bike…a GT Pro Freestyle Tour…I now had a way out. I was on that bike every waking moment…and I was good at it. I was on that bike the day I got it and ever day after that. When I was on two wheels I was free, I could get away, forget, hide, travel, I was in charge.
I got good too, the thing that I had as a kid on a freestyle bike is that I was not afraid. Not afraid of anything. That was actually the year that my best friend as a kid drowned in the lake we all lived on (Lake Hopatcong in NJ)….as Pink Floyd would say, another Brick in the Wall.
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What if the Hokey Pokey is what it is all about?
My dad, he was a very successful man. He had made his first million young. Born and raised in the Bronx NY. Went to a couple Ivy league schools and got the jobs, respect and money he desired. I am sure that when he ended up in Illinois he saw that as a failure – though he was President of a Fortune 500 company. He moved us to New Jersey to be closer to his family (and further from my mothers). We actually lived next door to Allan Alda for four years, saw him about three times. Grace was our live in maid – she took care of us (four kids by now) as my parents were gone more often than they were around.
Now, I was living on a farm in Garden Prairie Illinois – and I was supposed to feed the cows. I was sharing a room with three other foster kids my age who were all as hard as a felon after years in prison. I was new to this, they knew the deal and the system. My first day there the other kids there decided that it was a good idea to go sniffing WD-40…I walked about 20 miles back to home. My mother was still in jail, my father was out of town – I slept for the first time in a long time in my own bed (after breaking into my dads house).
Time went on…and I was arrested for leaving the foster home and knew that I was not safe any more in my dads house. Though I was less safe in foster homes. I then was homeless. I slept in laundry rooms, elevators, hospitals, and any other place that was warm. Christmas eve 1989 I was 16, alone, homeless and walking down the main road in the city I lived in – right down the center of the road at night in the snow…I walked and tried to get the attention of the police who I knew had a warrant for me as I was a run away from DCFS and they would take me to a warm place that I could get food and warn for X-Mas. No police stopped that night. I stayed that night in a heated elevator at a parking garage, Christmas day I ate at a homeless shelter and slept in a laundry room of an apartment building. That was a good day really. Someone had done laundry that was about my size – I was able to steal a pair of jeans that were my size as well as some heavy winter shirts.
When I think of Christmas, that is all I think of – that year, waking alone in the snow. Here I was – a year ago X-Mas was a deal, granted every year since I can remember my parents were wasted for X-Mas and got into a fight, On more than one occasion we had the police or someone at the house for the holidays. Drinks, drugs, and spending way to much money was X-Mas at the house. That is how it all started really…
When I was in 4th grade my mother got mad at something, now sure what – something. She came into my bedroom and hit me in the head with a Nylint Golden Eagle steel toy truck. That was before my birthday in December, not sure what day it was. I woke up in the hospital days later with some story that I fell down stairs. Sure. I had my jaw wired and was scared as you would be as a kid in that situation.
That year for X-Mas I got a bike, that was my way out. A bike…a GT Pro Freestyle Tour…I now had a way out. I was on that bike every waking moment…and I was good at it. I was on that bike the day I got it and ever day after that. When I was on two wheels I was free, I could get away, forget, hide, travel, I was in charge.
I got good too, the thing that I had as a kid on a freestyle bike is that I was not afraid. Not afraid of anything. That was actually the year that my best friend as a kid drowned in the lake we all lived on (Lake Hopatcong in NJ)….as Pink Floyd would say, another Brick in the Wall.
----------------------------------------------------------
What if the Hokey Pokey is what it is all about?