A homeless man with mental disabilities shares his story.
My name is Jack, but everyone calls me Looney-Tunes. They say i got some screws loose in my head. I'm sorry; can't help that. It's the way I was borned. I was borned retarted (retarded).
I ain't had an easy life. My Mommy and Daddy didn't wanna take care of me so they put me in a nursing home where old people go. I lived there until I was a teenager. I then moved in with my auntie who took care of me 'til she hurt her back; I then lived at a home for retarted people; when that closed down, I ended up on the streets. That's where I am now. I don't got any home to go to. I'm homeless.
On the streets, I got friends who watch out over me. They make sure I got good clothes to wear, food in my belly, and a place to sleep, especially if it's raining or hot outside. I 'preciate that. I really do. Otherwise, people look down their noses at me (and my buddies) and that makes me cry.
I hate it when people are mean!
I was borned with something called Down sindrom (spelling?). I have a mind like a little boy; I learn extra slow and it takes me a long time to learn something new. Even though I am a growed up man now, I still act more like a little boy. I love to sing, color, and look at picture books when I can get to the liberry (library). I love going to the kid's section; they got lots of books that I can look at.
I also like to draw, eat my favorite mael (hot dogs and mac and cheese! YUMM!), and spend time with my friends here on the street. Most nights we sleep at the shelter if it ain't full up; if it is, then we try to find a place where we can lay our head and go to sleep for teh night. Sometimes we sleep in alleyways, under a bridge, or in the park 'fore the cops chase us out.
Well, I don't got too much more to write, so I'll go. I'm gonna see if I can talk Sid and Monty into sneaking into the movies; there's a picture show I'd really like to see. It's about cops; it's called "Courage". That sounds like it would be a good picture show! I will write in here again when the words come; they don't come easy to me, y'know.
Ah, Karen, how you keep coming up with stories and characters that tear at our conscious and minds is amazing to me. So sorry, though Jack says he doesn't want people to feel sorry for him, so sorry for the life Jack has had to live.
Your friend in Southern California; Mark
Great story here Karen, and Ronald I don't believe it is true Karen writes mainly fiction, but she has a way of making us feel for her characters like they are real, the sign of a very gifted writer
In Christs Love
Michelle~
I hope this story isn't true. From what Karla wrote, I believe it is. Because I don't think someone with down syndrome can live on the street for very long. You have captured the essence of what it is like to have this disability very well. Reminds me of Loretta, the fifteenth child of our neighbors across the river.
One time on I was there to talk to the eldest, Tom, suddenly a little dog with paralyzed hind legs that still was able to have puppies, had me by the Achilles on my right heel and was dragging me away! Tom explained that I had gotten too close to Loretta and that little disabled dog was protecting her.
Loretta's mother passed a few years ago, long after her father who was disabled with arthritis but still had many children. If she is still alive, I wonder if her brothers and sisters are still taking care of her as she ages.
Thanks for reviewing my stories. I seem to be concentrating on the poems lately. I spent so much time writing that I don't have much time to review.
Ron
I'm glad Jack has people looking out for him. I just hope they don't take advantage of him, with him having a mental disability. Excellent story, Karen, well done.
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