I think that it's fitting that I'm grand-opening this blog on what came so close to being Uncle Dick's 99th birthday. He passed away almost a month ago on March 5.
When I think of Holland, I think of many things such as wooden shoes, children wearing Dutch costumes, stories about Hans Brinker, etc.
And, of course, I think of windmills--which remind me of Uncle Dick (whose career was being a teacher and principal at Seventh Day Adventist schools with his final one being the one in Anderson, Indiana) for a reason that I'll be sharing with you in a little bit.
First off, however, I'm going to share with you what this blog is about: information about people with Down Syndrome.
There's a lot of talk about alternative lifestyles these days, and being a person with an extra chromosome is definitely an alternative lifestyle--and one in which there's no dispute re: whether the person who has been blessed (or, in the opinion of some--too many, in fact--cursed) with that extra chromosome was born that way or made the choice to become that way.
I have come to the conclusion that people who have Down Syndrome should be described as not having a disability but, instead, having a different ability.
I believe that we're only just beginning to realize the potential in these individuals with something extra.
As I have said, Holland reminds me of a lot of things, and I'll be sharing more about them in future blog-entries.
Today, however, I'm going to ask you to be sure to click on the link at the top and to the right of this blogging area that will take you to the inspiring essay written by Emily Perl Kingsley and her feelings about having a son with Down Syndrome.
In a near-future writing here, I'm going to be sharing more about Uncle Dick and how he has figured into the picture re: my dream of becoming a special education teacher--along with sharing more about just what an amazing dash he lived between the two dates of April 3, 1914 and March 5, 2013.
For now, however, I'm going to tell you about the "...Round & round like a windmill..." story...
We're going back in time to 1964--the year of The British Invasion.
I'm eleven years old and spending a fun week with Aunt Jenny, Uncle Dick, Carolyn & Jimmy (my cousins) and their very special dog, Phyllis.
If there were a soundtrack for this time, this song (always playing from the back yard of the house next door) would be on it.
They had just recently moved to Ft. Wayne, IN from Madison, TN and were the first residents in their pre-fab home.
One night, there had been the type of rain described in the story of The Real Princess where "the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain came down in torrents"--with this being especially true of the rain coming down in torrents. It definitely did that--waking Carolyn and me up when it came through the window into our bedroom, wetting down us and our bed.
The window was supposed to have been able to be shut by cranking this crank, but Carolyn and I had no luck with that, so it was time to find out if Uncle Dick knew what to do. He cranked it a few times but couldn't do anything either, so he had to go outdoors in a downpour and close our window by shoving it shut.
A day or so later, Carolyn, Aunt Jenny, and I were back in the bedroom working on a dress for me when Uncle Dick came into the room with some guy. It seems as if he were someone who was coming around to check to see how new owners were enjoying their pre-fab homes and finding out if anything needed to be fixed.
Obviously, the window did.
Now, Uncle Dick has this kind of dry wit, and the way he would say things was so funny. He went over to the window and motioned to the crank while saying, "Now this thing just goes round & round like a windmill but doesn't do anything."
Something about the combination of that dramatic all-wet experience that we'd recently had coupled with my uncle's dry and calm way of describing it just *totally* cracked me up, and I began laughing as if I'd swallowed a feather.
I didn't know about Mr. Gimbol on Green Acres back then, as Green Acres hadn't become a part of TV yet, but I can look back now to say that this guy looked something like him.
He did look rather funny in the position he'd gotten into to check out the window (kinda bent over with his butt up in the air), but he hadn't been the one to inspire my laughing--which I'd already begun upon hearing Uncle Dick's dry remark.
Frankly, I think you would have just had to have been there to totally feel the experience, but I hope I'm giving you some idea.
Anyway, Aunt Jenny suggested to Carolyn and me that we should take a break from our sewing and go to the kitchen for a snack so that Uncle Dick and the man would be better able to get the window fixed. That sounded good to me, so we exited the room with me still laughing hysterically.
When we got to the kitchen, Aunt Jenny explained to me that the reason she wanted us to leave the room was because of the way I was laughing. She was afraid that the man would think that I was laughing at him. I told her that I wasn't laughing at the man but, instead, at Uncle Dick's remark about the crank going round & round like a windmill but not doing anything.
She said that she understood that, but I needed to be careful in the future or I might make somebody feel bad--and that was when I realized how funny the guy actually looked and that he might have realized that he looked funny and thought that my laughter had been directed at him.
Anyway, I got a lot of mileage out of Uncle Dick's words, I can still hear his voice in my head saying those words even now. It was a long time after that before I could hear the word "windmill" and keep a straight face.
For now, I'm going to close this, but I'll be writing again soon with the next entry continuing the Holland theme--this time, talking about having friends with the last name of Holland...
