Between Blog Posts: Part 3

Over the past month I have been able to find a few second and even a few minutes here and there that have allowed me to let my mind meander about and pull together different images and glimpses into the lives of fictional characters. Even while trying to catch up on the blog, there were still a few much needed moments when I needed to take a momentarily creative leave from reality. It is still unclear as to what will be done with all of these little pieces and whether they tie together somehow or if they are completely separate stories. So, following my notes from New Jersey Transit uncovered in the beginning of August, part 1 recorded in the middle of the month, and part 2 published a couple of weeks ago, I bring you another installment in this sporadic series.

6AM

The neighborhood kids called him Mr. Brown but he had many different monikers throughout his life. Whenever they would call his name in the morning he would turn his head and give him them a slight smile. No one said anything else to him. They let him be and simply watched in silence as he went about his morning routine.

He peered out the window each morning at 6am looking up at the sky. When the sun shone on the horizon he would put on his slippers, a coat when the weather turned bitter, and opened the front door with a slow and deliberate precision that baffled those watching.

His purposeful steps didn’t take him far. They carried him to the corner of his walkway and into a gravel bed surrounding his flag pole. Her he would take the flag tucked under his arm, unfold it, and raise the stars and stripes in a way that is familiar to few but respected by all who witness the ceremony.

Every morning he would pause at half-mast with a kind sadness in his eyes that revealed much more about his routine. In a moment of stillness he seemed to mutter almost apologetically before hoisting the flag to the top of the pole. Securing the rope with a figure eight and solitary knot, he would then turn and return to the front door stiffly closing it behind him as if trying to keep out the memories.

When the sky prepares to succumb to the night everyone watches as he emerges from behind his seclusion almost with a sense of relief that the evening will soon descend and another day will end in silence. He returns the flag to the earth folding into a precise triangle, tucked it under his arm, and carried it with reverence back into his home.

As the amber deepens into red and before the purple hue of dusk, a small glimmer of yellow can be seen waiving lightly from the trunk of his oak tree seemingly giving farewell. The same bitter parting he was offered when his son was deployed.

And now the tattered ribbon tethers the memories of a neighborhood as they all remember the jovial laugh that would fill the small street every time Mr. Brown came home from work. A laugh that only lives in distance echoes. But now there is only night. Now there is only silence. For one more day.

Between Blog Posts: Part 2

Earlier in the month I shared some story notes that I uncovered during a bout of digital archaeology and last week I posted another piece that I jotted down between a couple of blog posts and projects. Well, it happened again. While doing some work and personal research this past week, a small light began flickering in my mind like a projector and played a small scene for me. All that was shone is what is recorded below. This, like the other ideas recorded on this blog, might be interesting to pursue when I have a little more time to commit to this type of writing. But, for now, here is what was played for me…

5AM

Jim was never a morning person and never pretended to be one unless he was applying for a job. This was the conflict that stirred in his mind as the alarm echoed off the empty apartment walls.

He kicked the soiled sheets to the other side of the bed and placed his hand in the cold empty hollow in the mattress next to him. It almost didn’t feel like it was worth it to try and get up but he could stand the thought of lying there alone.

As he staggered to his feet the faux floor whined between his toes. In the bathroom he plunged his worn face in the stagnant sink filled with the same water that had been lingering for days.

The spotted mirror told him all he needed to know reflecting his shadow riddled eyes buried behind his beard.

He rustled through his clothes looking for something that could pass as presentable, something that may have appeared on a store shelf in the last twenty years.

Cleaned and dressed to the standard that had haunted him for the past three years, he opened his bedroom door and walked down the short moonlit hallway to the stack of disposable bowls awaiting him in the kitchen. Like the hundreds of days before, he opened the only stocked cabinet, pulled out a box, and watched the sweet processed puffs as they piled into the paper vessel.

Some people take great care with their diet, Jim was not one of those people.

By the time the sun had begun to inch over the horizon, he was already walking deliberately down the stairs, step by step, counting each one as if the total would be different than all the other days.

The orange and red of the sky surprised him and a smile nearly curled the corners of his mouth when it was quickly slapped from his face by the noise of the city. His simple routine had taken him nearly two hours and now the remaining minutes of the early morning were few and precious.

While little had changed that morning maybe the day would be different. Maybe this would be the day when the burdens of the past would be lifted. Maybe the events of the day would allow him to forget. Maybe this job would be different than the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that…

Old Hobbies Die Hard

Throughout my life I have had a multitude of hobbies and collections from baseball cards and comics to music and movies to books and coins to firearms and watches. Of course, these are in addition to the accumulation and collection of random information and facts which is a lifelong endeavor. While I don’t know exactly why I have enjoyed so many different hobbies I think it is due in large part because I need to keep myself occupied. More specifically, I need to keep learning about different things… I need to think. This helps to explain why there is such a variety and also why I keep returning to some of those previous interests.

The mechanics, ingenuity, and artistry found in firearms and watches have maintained my interest for years. While many, especially these days, would see these two as completely different from one another my appreciation is quite similar and my interest in them is rooted in some very basic concepts. This is what keeps my mind active as I study how they operate and simply appreciate the functionality and aesthetics of these items.

However, what I have found lately is that coins and currency have a stronger hold on my attention than all the other interests that I have had. The unexpected consequence of taking my son to a coin shop this past weekend is that it has once again piqued my interest in numismatics. As he was going from case to case studying each of the coins nearly organized on the shelves I couldn’t help but think about the time I used to spend searching for that one interesting coin.

Bear in mind that I was never one to collect the high end pieces that are purchased more for investment rather than appreciation. I gravitated to what interested me both in the actual coin itself, both design and origin, as well as the history that comes along with it. I would much rather study a well worn penny that has been used and witnessed a hundred years of history over an encased silver dollar in perfect condition minted this year.

It is also the different countries and periods in history which some pieces represent that fascinate me. This is the perspective that led to my interest in German States, Italian States, French States, Swiss Cantons, and British Palestine coinage. They all speak to a completely different time in history and aren’t immensely popular among collectors so they are usually affordable… and the stories and designs that can be found are compelling. It is that potential for a story that keeps me coming back to this hobby.

However, some things stay the same. We usually begin with the simple wheat penny which is where I started many years ago and where I am starting my son. Who knows, maybe this is something that we will enjoy doing together. Only time will tell but, at the very least, there are a lot of pennies for a lot of thoughts… and stories.

Between Blog Posts: Part 1

Recently, while going from one topic to the next whether that be at work or while writing about different topics for the blog I find my mind wandering a little bit into the other side of my brain. It’s almost as if it fell off that fine line that I am constantly walking between the two hemispheres and all of the sudden the ideas for stories begin flowing through my fingers. They are only glimpses but, like the rough ideas that I shared before which I uncovered in my computer, I wanted to share them here. After all, you never know what I might do with them…

4AM

Ben had been up all night with the only light shining on the dark country road being the one piercing through his kitchen window. The highway asphalt in the distance had been quite for hours and the autumnal wind carried with it the scent of the approaching season. His work was done, for now, but his labor was just beginning.

The hinges screamed as he pulled the front door toward him. A sound that had become all too familiar in recent weeks. But in that moment, in the darkness of morning, he was the only one who could hear the house shrieking.

His legs were heavy from the rigor of the night and while a fog filled his eyes his mind continued to meander through memories. It took an unexpected effort to traverse the walkway but he endured the haunting thoughts and failing limbs finally slumping over on the rusted trunk of his car. 

He swung open his creaking door and collapsed into the tattered driver’s seat. Turning the key he hoped that the engine would start just one more time. He had a lot of things to do that day but his only desire was to stay home. As the exhaust plumed in the rear view mirror he swallowed the last remanence of cold coffee, rubbed his eyes with his red hands, and slowly skidded down the leaf strewn driveway.

The winding road coddled his eyes while the pings of loose pavement kept his lids from closing. It wasn’t long before he could see the lights from the gas station emerge from the crest of the hill, people walking back to their cars with steaming cups, and the traffic light blinking yellow and red like a beacon on a desolate shore.

As he turned the corner he could hear a rumble cascading across the road. By the time he turned his head the truck had already breached the passenger door. His body was thrown across the intersection until finally resting face down in front of the weathered array of lingering campaign signs.

When the police arrived, they found nothing to identify him, a car which had disintegrated into an unrecognizable heap of scrap, and a heart that had long since stopped pumping. The only thing that they knew about him is what witnesses heard him gargle from between the blades of grass…    

“It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.”

Sunday Search: Pulling Together My Own Story

Whenever the topic of family history enters the discussion we are always talking about the past… when we came over, who fought in what war, interesting occupations, etc. Anyone interested in genealogy is familiar with the cadence of these conversations and knows that it doesn’t take long before a common thread is discovered between two families… although sometimes it is also interesting to discuss the differences. We, as family historians, are always digging into the past to try and find those additional details that have previously eluded us or find new information seemingly lost to the family for generations.

That seems to be the pattern and the routine with which we are intimately familiar. However, while this may be the bulk of our research, there are other areas of family history that are too often overlooked. The first is something that I have written about before which is to talk to those relatives who are still with us and learn what you can about what they know about the family as well as learning about their own life. We spend all this time trying to fill in gaps and too often the generations that are still with us are overlooked and, when they are gone, we will be back at the beginning trying to put the pieces together.

This covers the vast majority of the family history but there are still pieces that are usually left in the box. Our own lives, while not as interesting to us as the lives we have spent so many hours dissecting, are also an important part of the family tree. Since we are cognizant of the process and the details that are so important to the complete pictures of generations, we are in a position to ensure that our generation is represented. For me, part of my story is in the pages of this blog but that is only a recent snapshot with occasional glimpses into my own past.

We have a duty to our own family and to future generations to ensure that all the stories are told, across the generations, including our own. It may seem self-centered or even egotistical and pretentious to some but this is not something that we do to brag about this or that, it is a means to keep a complete history of the family. So, the next time you sit down to explore a few more data bases, take a few minutes and write down a couple of facts about your own life and, when you get a chance, write down questions that you can send to your siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, parents, etc. Before you know it, you will have a pretty long list to include in the annals of your own research.

Sunday Search: Another Generation Of Baby Photos

Each month that passes, we do our best to take a picture of our son so that we can record his growth over time. Sometimes we manage to get the picture taken on the exact day of the month while other times we might be off by a day or two. Each time we think about the pictures that we have seen of ourselves and it is hard to believe that we are now on the other side of the lens. This time, however, I didn’t look back at some of my baby pictures, I looked back much further and sorted through some of the much older family photos that I discovered over the summer. They were actually included in the same group that I wrote about last month.

My great grandmother, Helen Fulton, was only 30 when she passed away from a stroke but there are numerous pictures from her life both from before she married my great grandfather, William Jacob McKannan, and throughout their 10 year marriage. The first picture, which prompted this post, is from about 1893 or 1894 when she was just a baby...

A few years later, we have a photo of her as a little girl taken in about 1900 (I can actually see my niece in this photo)…

By 1910 (according to the census), my great grandparents were living next door to one another. My great grandfather was living with his uncle (along with his mother and sister) while my great great grandfather was working for the Pennsylvania Railroad while my great grandmother’s family moved in with her grandmother. Some things can be written off as coincidence while other situations, like this one, seem to be fate. My great grandparents married two years later which is around the time when we can surmise that this picture was taken…

A few years later, both McKannan children were married and my great great grandmother, Susan Laura Corner, was still holding her own at home while the railroad continued keeping my great great grandfather away from his family. It was during this time, in the mid-teens (I surmise early 1914 since my grandfather was born in October 1914), when this family photo was taken with my great great grandmother in the middle surrounded by her growing family…  

As I have written before, by the end of 1922 my great grandfather was left a Widower caring for his two sons having lived through the loss of his wife and two daughters over the past two years. But the photos and memories remained allowing the family to remember her, what she looked like, and the happiness that filled her brief life. You never know how life progresses or when life will come to an end but the images continue to maintain the vibrant details, from birth to death, of the family history. It is a great feeling to be adding another generation of details to our tree with every passing month.

Sifting Through The Forgotten Cards

There are a few boxes on my office bookcase that I rarely look in. They are usually tucked below the boxes that receive more regular perusals which contain the loosely sorted family photos that I have accumulated over the years and the one with the random office supplies that always seem to come in handy every now and again. These other boxes are frequently added to when certain items are deposited into the mail box but that is the most interaction I have with the box… stuffing some of the cards and invitations under the lid to be seldom seen again.

However, while continuing my organizational endeavor, I opened these boxes just to see what I had put in them over the years. It is actually a great way to reminisce about some of the past family events, recall fond memories with friends, and look back on some of the holidays that have passed. It is interesting to look at the different kinds of cards that people have given me over the years. Some serious, some touching, and other funny. It is a pretty wide variety.

There are items within these boxes that made me pause for a minute and think about all that has changed over the years. All these cards and invitations are things that have already happened and with so much to look forward to in the future, it is a unique dichotomy when you hold these items in your hand. And, of course, there are some items, some cards that have taken on an entirely new meaning as I have gotten older like seeing my grandmom’s signature on a holiday card. I still miss getting those cards every year.

There are also the items that I am glad that I have held onto rather than simply pitching shortly after receiving them. I guess it is part pack rat and also part knowing what has become important to me when putting together the family history. Some of these types of things, the simple cards and notes, are more often than not lost during the course of life. These things are really what bring the memories back, sometimes more so than pictures. Being able to hold these items and see the handwriting of my grandmom, my parents, and my wife are what can trigger the memories of great times in my life. I should really open this box more often.

Sunday Search: Missing Documents

 

Over the past few months there have been moments when I have made surprising progress researching my family trees and there have also been instances when I have hit some pretty significant walls. No matter how hard I have tried to hit the brick or how heavy the hammer, the structure remains solid. While there is still some small glint of hope that these records will turn up, it is not an endeavor that will likely produce significant results anytime soon… I guess I will have to get the chisel out and try to find the answers that way.

After all, that is how I found the few details that we know about John Uttley’s service in the Philadelphia Police Department. After dozens of calls and many hours leveraging various resources I was able to find out that while the full personnel files have long since been destroyed, there are pieces (i.e. rank, badge number, date of swearing in, rank, accounts in the newspaper) scattered across multiple sources. It isn’t much but it is a heck of a lot more than we have had in the past. Other endeavors haven’t even produced this level of information.

My great grandparents (William Edgar Yeagle and Bessie Wirth Uttley) divorce is something that is still interpreted different ways depending on with whom you speak. His first family, which is my line, sees the dissolution of marriage in one way namely that it was his drinking and abuse that caused the divorce. However, his second family, according to his granddaughter with whom I briefly spoke a couple of years ago, sees things a little differently in that it was my great grandmother that caused the issues in the marriage. When I called the court records office in Philadelphia City Hall (where they got divorced), there was little information that they could share as the records have long since faded and the only information on hand was that of the actual decree (without mention of cause). But at least that record can be produced unlike some others.

The marriage certificate of Paulus Redcross and Frances Beverly continues to be one record that we are continuing to search for through various offices, depositories, and whatever other means out there. It is something that we know exists as it is recorded in the Amherst County, Virginia ledger but the actual document seems to have disappeared. Not faded or destroyed (as far as we know) it is just gone. No one has been able to provide any definitive explanation although there are plenty of theories out there which is a completely separate topic altogether.

All of these documents have the potential to provide my family with a wealth of information (and answers) beyond what the existing documents ever could but there is significant doubt as to whether we will ever be able to read them. While we will continue seeking answers to other questions and look to fill in the family tree, these are things that we will always be looking for even if the possibility of finding them is slim. While these situations may be a deterrent for some, it only serves to motivate me to find and write the story without them (or at least try).  

The Lost Genealogy Show

In a recent discussion on LinkedIn there was another genealogy program brought to my attention. After reading the back and forth around the pros and cons of the mainstream programs (i.e. Who Do You Think You Are, Finding Your Roots, and Genealogy Roadshow) I was interested to watch the YouTube video to see if this program did a better job especially with regard to process. Honestly, my expectations were not very high as I have seen numerous attempts at programs online but I figured that I would give it a shot.

While the intro to “Legend Seekers” leaves a little something to be desired the program itself is excellent. It is kind of the best of all worlds in that it is not reliant upon celebrity and it does not overburden itself with trying to take too broad a view of a family tree. Rather, the focus of the program is on a singular event in the family tree of a regular family. It is the kind of thing that all of us immersed in our own family history do on a regular basis just in a more condensed and presentable format.

While there is a lot that is left on the floor with regard to the process, there is still much more information regarding the resources that are available for people to conduct their own research and to whom they can turn to find the information that they are seeking. There are also tips and additional information to assist the viewer in their own search particularly regarding Census records and the wealth that can be found in cemeteries. While many of us who have been doing this for a while know this information it is always worth being reminded and it is of huge value to those who may just be getting started.

The program also shows the slight bumps and detours that we all run into. However, similar to mine and many other experiences that I have read, persistence can sometimes pay off as it did in the search for the Lively family in this episode. This is both an interesting and motivating program for those who are interested in researching their own family.

With all of that said, I do have one rather large problem with the program… this is the only episode that was made due to the lack of funding and not having been picked up for a full season. There are so many stories out there in every family that it would be great to see the stories that, for the most part, remain untold. Heck, I can think of a half dozen in my own family (a few of which I have mentioned on this blog) that I would like to see produced in this manner. Hopefully, sometime in the future, the show will return and give us a better example of what the real process is like… I would much rather spend the time watching more episodes of this rather than the aforementioned mainstream programs.

Time To Eat The Donuts!

Now that we are in the midst of the Hanukkah holiday, Jews around the world are lighting their menorahs and stuffing their faces with latkes (potato pancakes) and Sufganiyah (jelly donuts). I might be doing the same if I had planned ahead a little better. Oh well, there is always next year.

Over the past few weeks I have been packing as many boxes and bins as I could in the little free time that I have had. One of the many things that has long since disappeared is the menorah that we have lit the past couple of years. While I could rummage around in the tightly organized containers, there is even less time available and too much more that has to be done between now and our move.

So this year is going to be chalked up as a moment of transition in our lives (like we needed something else to carry that moniker). Maybe we need to take the holiday off this time around and start fresh with our son next winter. So while we do not have the hanukkiah out right now, we already have a place picked out in our new home. Maybe we will even have the time to light some candles toward the end of the holiday.

But there is much more to Hanukkah than lighting candles and eating carbs. At its core, Hanukkah “celebrates the triumph of light over darkness, of purity over adulteration, of spirituality over materiality.” Those of you who might be brothers will see many parallels to this in Freemasonry. In fact, it summarizes quite nicely the core of masonic teachings. This of course is in addition to our teaching new masons about the construction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.

However, I digress. The story of Hanukkah, which can be found on Chabad.org, is as follows:

More than twenty-one centuries ago, the Holy Land was ruled by the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who sought to forcefully Hellenize the people of Israel. Against all odds, a small band of faithful Jews defeated one of the mightiest armies on earth, drove the Greeks from the land, reclaimed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and rededicated it to the service of G-d.

When they sought to light the Temple's menorah (the seven branched candelabrum), they found only a single cruse of olive oil that had escaped contamination by the Greeks; miraculously, the one-day supply burned for eight days, until new oil could be prepared under conditions of ritual purity.

To commemorate and publicize these miracles, the sages instituted the festival of Chanukah. At the heart of the festival is the nightly menorah (candelabrum) lighting: a single flame on the first night, two on the second evening, and so on till the eighth night of Chanukah, when all eight lights are kindled.

It is the holiday of miracles and morality, dedication and determination, holiness and humility. It is during these eight nights that we stand in awe of the gifts that abound around us and thank G-d for everything that we have been given. This year, we have a lot to be thankful for and I look forward to sharing this holiday with my son next year.

Filling In The Foliage In The Family Tree

The most recent addition to the family research...
the final resting place of Laura Belle Redcross and Marcellus Nickolas Love.

Over the weekend I spent some time talking with the other genealogist in the family, my aunt, about the impasse that we are now facing. We have both spent the last several years working on the family tree trying to fill in the leaves, trim the branches, and follow the roots as far as they will go. We are now at a point where all of the information that can be found online has been found, catalogued, and added to our tree. We are at a point when it is going to take a considerable increase in effort in order to achieve even the smallest of results…. traveling and physically searching for documents.

While that is a huge part of the ongoing work that we need to get done there is also a completely different task which we need to accomplish. For much of the family we have the documents, the lineage, the connections from A to B, and we know of events that occurred in their lives. However, there really is no narrative that has been written on each of the generations to give us some color and fill in what was happening not only in their lives but also what was happening in the world around them. Facts can only tell you so much. The story is what makes the person, for lack of an original term, come to life.

While you have all read about Jacob Wirth and his death aboard the USS Tecumseh which I wrote about back in November, I haven’t really done the work to tell some of the other interesting stories from the tree. Sure there have been plenty of lists like the ones I have compiled for the Sons of the American Revolution and outlining connections to the Monacan Indian Nation, I haven’t done my job as a story teller in recreating the lives, connections, and service in the family. And there are so many beyond those few that have previously been listed.

Sometimes it’s not about the events in their lives, sometimes it’s about the lives that they lived. While those lives may seem unremarkable to many, they are part of what made this family and guided us along the way. What if my grandfather never moved the family up to Pennsylvania from the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia? What if Samuel Ardis lived past 28 years old? What if my great grandparents never divorced? What if each of the immigrants just decided to stay put?

Obviously, we will ever know the real answers to the hypothetical questions. We will also never know if the stories we tell are completely accurate. But we can at least attempt to breathe life back into our ancestors and try to better understand the lives that they lived, the hardships they faced, and the decisions that they were forced to make. This should be interesting.

Crafting Perspective

Everyone can look back at different points or events in their life and say what if. We all have the lingering regrets that surface if we dedicate too much thought to the past. I don’t care who you are, you know that you have had moments when those thoughts would run through your mind wondering if things would have gone differently if you had made a different decision. While most days these thoughts are nowhere to be found, I have the occasional day when the memories linger like a heavy fog on a cool humid morning.

Regrets, in the right amount, are a healthy part of life. It is the time when the analytical and creative minds meet at a common point and time in your past and try to figure out the scenarios that could have played out. It is actually a fascinating process if you remove yourself from the decision… basically, by taking an objective view of the situation you are able to enjoy the projections and story lines that can be created. It’s like a chose your own adventure book (remember those?) but with a vividness and reality that is seldom achieved through the words on a page.

Of course, in order to do this you have to come to terms with your past decisions. Sure there are moments that you may not be proud of or that may piss you off. Some things were completely in your control and others you had now control over the situation… regardless of the situation you have to leave it in the past. Besides, the clichéd little chestnut is true, all of those events and moments in your past have made you who you are today. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I am pretty darn happy with who I am and where I am at this point in my life. There are some things that I wish were a little different but nothing that I would really change.

If you are able to keep things in perspective the creative logic that is applied to your own past can provide you with pages of content and hours of entertainment. I have created many stories and scenes by leveraging my own past and tweaking it to create an alternative timeline to fit the needs of the character and story. As a bonus, once you put a different name in the situation and build an entirely different story arch it, for the most part, removes that trajectory from your own mind and therefore eliminates a avenue of regret.

It may seem odd but it works. This is what makes the creative process so personal at times and why many of us invest so much in the stories that we tell. It is a part of us, a part of our past, a part of our reality… it allows the possibilities of the past contribute to who we are today in a positive and productive way. In the end, embrace the past, good and bad, as well as the realities that did happen and possibilities that never materialized. All of these things are what feed your mind it is up to you weather that is a good thing or bad thing.

Go Google Yourself!

I use Google on a daily basis for numerous reasons but mostly as a means to find photos for this blog, tracking mentions of various companies, and finding news about different subjects. It is a great tool that makes the daily tasks a lot easier than it used to be. I’m sure I am not the only one who remembers using a card catalogue and flipping through pages and pages of useless information. Well, maybe not completely useless as it has done wonders for my random knowledge over the years. In fact, much of my recent genealogy work has more closely resembled this method rather than the modern instantaneous gratification that we have all become accustom to.

Every once in a while I take advantage of this modern convenience and see what happens to be floating around out there that is tied to my name. It is quite the interesting exercise and, to a certain extent, a little disconcerting. Have you ever done a Google search of your own name?

It’s a given that all your social media accounts play a prominent role in the search results but there is also, at least for me, a lot of other information that surfaces. From mentions in articles, old corporate blog posts, press releases, reading announcements to, if it so applies, any piece of information that is part of the public record including your address, phone number, and pictures of your friends and family. If you are a writer, you can also find some class assignments based on your work (this was both surprising and entertaining).

Such is the time in which we live. Whether you like it or not, your name is out there for everyone to see. While I am a pretty open and outgoing person, some others don’t have the same perspective. This is why I am constantly conscious of what gets posted, what pictures are taken, and the people and organizations with which I associate. Everything is out there for anyone to find and you don’t want that random picture to surface that was taken immediately prior to you blacking out.

It will be interesting how subsequent generations react to such openness and whether or not the barriers remain between personal actions and professional consequences when the moments of youth live on in perpetuity on the internet. For me, I remain cognizant of what is posted and what is said. I do my best to minimize the censoring of my opinions and perspectives in an effort to remain completely transparent and honest with those who may come across these words and I enjoy the fact that I am able to record my own life and maintain an ongoing record for future generations. Good or bad, this is who I am and this is one of the main things that will show up in a Google search.  

How Can We Explain Autism To Children?

Ever since my wife and I had the privilege to spend some time with a family with two autistic children a few months back (you may remember that it was one of the first posts on this blog) I have been kicking around the idea of writing another children’s book. The main reason is that I couldn’t find a book about autism geared toward the picture book age. Doesn’t mean there isn’t one out there I just haven’t been able to find it.

As if this project wasn’t hard enough, I am coming from a place where I have zero experience with autism. It made the process both easier and much harder. Easier because I had to focus on the few clear examples but much harder because I am long winded anyway and even more so when I am just learning about a subject. So, after a couple of months of thinking and rethinking and wondering what the heck I was doing I finally got to the point that I was able to put a few words on the page.

Below is the first, and very rough, attempt to tackle the subject. There seems to be something there worth saving but it also needs a lot of work mainly because I can’t see the words yet. It is repetitive but that is completely intentional. I don’t know exactly how I am going to tweak it but I am almost certain that changes will be made often until I can fine tune it.

Abby Knows Best

Abby is like any other little girl.

Abby likes little dogs, she likes watching cartoons, and she has her favorite dark green bear.

Abby was always different.

Abby doesn’t go to the same school as the other kids in the neighborhood.

Abby goes to a school where all the kids are just like her.

Abby is autistic.

Abby likes to visit her own little world where she twists over and over again.

Abby doesn’t talk but she speaks with her hands and through pictures.

Abby is sometimes hard to understand but she understands everything she hears.

Abby can’t read books but she can read people.

Abby doesn’t make eye contact but knows what is going on around her.

Abby shies away from contact but she always knows when you need a hug.

Abby doesn’t like loud noises but she loves the sound of her mother’s voice.

Abby likes playing with her dad and her older sisters.

Abby is happiest with her family.

Abby is a special little girl who knows love.

So, now that you have read the first draft (actually the second draft), what are your thoughts? Is this understandable for both parent and child? Most importantly, for those of you who know much more than I do on the subject, is it accurate?

Please let me know what your thoughts are on this project as I am, like I said before, definitely not in possession of any significant knowledge in this area. I know what I see and what I feel. Sometimes that is enough and sometimes it isn’t. I just want to do my part, as small as it may be, to raise awareness and cast a different light on these children who are not handicapped they just have a different way of life that we can't fully grasp. We are all made differently and we all interact in our own way with one another and the world around us. Different doesn’t mean better or worse it just highlights the uniqueness and individuality of life. That is what I want and what I hope shines through in the story above.