The Triumph of the Weird Kid

 Kids can be outright cruel especially to those considered to be weird or an outsider in anyway

In Elementary School I was an easy  target for those kids.For one I had thick lips There was a memorable incident where my mom had a hard time leaving a parking space as kids on their bikes surrounded her car calling me “Big Lips”

I was a terrible athlete,once having to be escorted home by the gym teacher as kids were going to beat me up for striking out in a big baseball game. I was always the last kid picked in any pickup game with kids begging for any way of avoiding choosing me and when I had to be chosen I was welcomed to the team with groans

I often brought books to read at recess instead of playing Army with the other boys.

My young ambition didnt help my case with others my age either. After the events of November 22,1963 I decided that when I grew up I wanted to be President of the United States. Proclaiming my ambition in a class where most kids hoped to be firefighters teachers or professional athletes set me apart from other classmates and it set me up for another layer of ridicule.

“You cant be President” “Being President is a job for white people” was the general response at my predominatly black elementary school when the subject of what one wants to be when one grows up came up.

I wasnt very good in art class either. (Yes, there was a time when art was a part of a public school curriculum.) My drawings were crude and my projects made from clay were mediocre at best. That said I enjoyed when the assignment was given to make a drawing of my favorite TV show.

The person who allowed me to cope with what I endured in Elementary School was my mother and her confidence in me. Over and over I’d hear from her “You can accomplish anything you want to if you put your mind to it” Not only did my mom instill confidence in me but her trust also created a sense of defiance. In my mind I thought “Who are these kids who think I cant be President? I’m going to prove them wrong!”

Most kids drew pictures of such shows as “My Favorite Martian” or various cartoons. I had two favorite shows at that time, one was Mr. Ed the talking horse. I could be counted upon to be in front of the TV on Sunday nights to watch Mr Ed’s latest antics. I even had a Mr Ed talking puppet. The other favorite was the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite. I was glued to Cronkite’s reports of the Kennedy Assassination and I became a daily viewer of the news afterwards. If I was to become President it was going to be important for me to be on top of world and national events.

I probably could have avoided further ridicule if I had drawn a picture of Mr. Ed. After all there were others in the class who liked Mr Ed. I didnt and drew a picture of the CBS Evening News set instead.

Of course at the top of the picture was the lettering: CBS EVENING NEWS WITH WALTER CRONKITE. That was probably the best part of the picture. The desk was crudely drawn but I did include the microphones that were on the desk as well as the rotary landline telephones. My Walter Cronkite was drawn as a stick figure but I made sure I drew Cronkite’s mustache. This was an art class assignment I was happy to do. I was proud of this picture and was happy to present it to the class.

Putting it mildly the class did not share the enthusiasm I had for the picture. “Oh no..he watches the news??” “He thinks he’s going to be President?” There were many better pictures drawn but the teacher because of  groans and laughter threatening to take control of the class applauded my effort.

I cannot remember what prompted me to send the picture to Walter Cronkite but with help from my mom who obtained for me the mailing address for CBS News I mailed the picture to him. Mom did warn me that Cronkite was a busy man and not to expect a reply from him.

Indeed it seemed like a long time before I heard back but one day in the mail came a rather large envelope and the stationary read CBS News. It was addressed to me! Inside was a letter from Walter Cronkite himself. He thanked me for the picture and told me he shared it with his colleagues. I thought I wonder who he showed it to..Charles Collingwood? Roger Mudd? Eric Sevareid? That wasnt the best part however as also in the envelope was an autographed picture of Walter Cronkite

Hearing from him was one of the happiest moments in my life to date. Walter Cronkite liked the picture I drew of him. I had to bring the letter and the picture to school.

Even kids that had made fun of me were shocked at the result of my picture. Most elementary school kids were not watching watching the news but even young kids knew who Walter Cronkite was. For once the weird kid had his way at school.

And that’s the way it was…

A South Minneapolis Spirit

 I believe in spirits..

I believe in an invisible spirit realm both good and evil that hover over us here on earth. Sometimes those spirits take on forms to carry out certain missions here on earth. Sometimes they take the form of animals..snakes and dogs come to mind but there could be others. At other times they take on human form.

I believe I was visited by such a spirit a few years ago and that spirit saved my life.

Let me tell you the story.

In what seems like a lifetime ago now I went through a period where I wasnt feeling well. I was dealing with dizzy spells feeling feverish and shortness of breath. I’ve never been one to get sick often, in fact with the job I had at the time I’d often add my alloted sick days to my vacation days in order to enjoy a longer vacation. While it wasnt fun I believed sooner or later this feeling would pass. Weeks went by and the feeling didnt pass.

I was working at a small retail shop in South Minneapolis. The shop was located on Lake St. Lake Street is one of Minneapolis' major throughfares stretching from lakes Bde Maka Ska and Lake of the Isles eastward to the Mississippi River. The Lake Street Bridge then crosses over to the other Twin City and where it becomes Marshall Avenue. Where the shop was located was on the East Side of Lake Street and just 3 blocks from the 3rd Police Preciect that burned during the George Floyd riots. 

 The holiday season was approaching. Besides the usual stress that comes with working retail during the holiday season there was added stress for in the years I had worked at this store people got fired shortly after the holiday season ended and at a small retail shop as this was one could make reasonable assumptions as to who might be on the chopping block after the holidays. This year I had reason to believe this was the year I would be on the chopping block.

One thing this company did provide was decent health insurance for its workers. For years I’ve had a deep distrust of doctors and the entire medical industry.I’ve never been one to make a doctor’s visit unless I felt I had to but this sick feeling wasnt going away and with the sense I would not be employed for much longer I took part of the day off and made a visit to the health clinic in my old West Bank Minneapolis neighborhood.

The West Bank neighborhood of Minneapolis was where hippies punks and bohemian artists of all stripes would live work and gather. It was one of Bob Dylan's stomping grounds in Minneapolis before he left for New York. It wasnt uncommon for me to run into and share a beer with one of Dylan's early mentors Spider John Koerner at Palmers Bar which was like a West Bank community center. It is now primarily a home for Somali immigrants

The visit seemed pretty typical of a doctor’s visit..the nurse checked my weight heartbeat blood pressure gave me a blood draw then I was on my way back to work. No one said anything to me so despite the fact that I was feeling like shit I assumed nothing was wrong and sooner or later this feeling would indeed go away.

I was glad that when I returned things were slow in retail. We went through long stretches that afternoon where we had no customers. I’d use those periods to lay my head on the desk.

Closing time at this retail store was late afternoon and it was perfectly okay that if there were no customers I could do my usual closing duties ten minutes before close and be out the door the moment the store closed. This was fine with me as a bus heading home would usually arrive within minutes of my departure from work.

There were no customers and I was about to start my closing duties with 10 minutes before close when a customer walked in. She was an older looking woman who merely nodded when I told her we’d be closing shortly. She slowly and quietly began to browse through the aisles. She didnt seem particularly interested in anything and she simply nodded again when I asked if there was anything I could help her with.

10 minutes..5 minutes..2 minutes and it was time to start turning the lights off. Even when I began to turn the lights off this woman was slow to leave. Finally she did and did not buy anything. She never said a word the entire time she was in the store. I hurried to finish my closing duties.

I used to play a game when I’d see my bus approaching and I was away from the bus stop. I would transform into one of baseball’s base stealing giants. I’d call myself Maury Wills or Vince Coleman and the oncoming bus would be the catcher trying to throw me out. 9 out of 10 times I’d steal the base and reach the bus stop in plenty of time. I left the store in time to see my bus approaching but there was no Maury Wills in me this afternoon. I was not feeling well at all. I missed the bus

30 degrees above zero  is cold but not that cold by Minnesota standards, Under normal circumstances I’d have no problem waiting another 15-20 minutes for another bus however on this day 30 degrees felt like -30 and I just wasnt up for waiting for the next bus 

 I called my buddy Mitch told him I wasnt feeling well and asked if he could drive me to my apartment in St Paul. Mitch instructed me to wait for him inside the nearby McDonald’s and he’d be there in 10 minutes. I wasnt in Mitch’s truck more than a minute or two and we hadnt left the parking lot at McDonald’s when I received a phone call. It was from the clinic. I was informed that my blood counts were dangerously low and to head to the hospital immediately for a blood transfusion. I remained in the hospital for 4 days.

I could overhear nurses talking outside my hospital room.

“He WALKED into the emergency room?” “How did he do that?”

I discovered I had Stage 4 Non Hodgkins Lymphoma located in my bone marrow.

I have since recovered and have been cancer free for 8 years now.

I later learned that my blood counts were so low chances are if I had not been delayed in my closing duties and had caught the bus to my St Paul apartment I was likely to have had a heart attack or stroke that evening and I wouldn’t be here now telling the story.

That spirit saved me from a certain death. Today I believe thousands of spirits are hovering over Minneapolis defending a beautiful city against a cancer that would try and destroy it