CASTING BREAD UPON THE WATERS OF TIME
A blog entry that I posted over a year ago about Ed Hogan of the CYO was recently brought to my attention by someone related to the subject of the blog.
Ed Hogan's daughter wrote to me and was pleased that her father whose birthday was Valentine's Day should be remembered as the same kind, wonderful person he was.
I am so glad that the blog has served its purpose. It is my fervent hope when I write an entry especially one that names a real person from the past that someone in the future reads it and can relate to a dear one in his or her background. For every word that I have written about Ed Hogan and each kind act I recall, he himself enacted on a daily basis so many more.
Even in detailing our brief encounters, I could have mentioned how once he became aware of the need of the disabled young, he actually organized a dance class and a bowling night that my sisters also participated in.
Here is the earlier entry:
The Father Barry CYO on Denver Street in Pawtucket
Everything seemed to change in 1949-50 but it wasn't all bad. Disaster would wait until 1953 to strike.
But something new came into our lives when my mother became aware of the CYO Center on Denver St near the convents of the Sisters of Mercy and the White sisters--both now obliterated.
I don't know the extent of their programs now but I think the CYO building is still there.
No it is not --I just drove by to check and it has been torn down also to make way for what looks like a new gym building for Saint Raphael Academy.
But in 1950 -52 I do know that under the direction of Mr Ed Hogan they ran a day camp at Goddard Park in the Summer months. AND that he added a special two week camp for handicapped children--and he decided that could include my two sisters Janie and Sheila.
I do not know how my mother applied or even learned of this camp--it must have been someone in the parish or maybe through the good offices of JENARITA FOX, a Special Ed teacher of a class at Grove St School that my sisters attended.
My mother took it all a step further and brought me to meet Ed Hogan and asked if I could also attend the camp--that I loved to swim and had never been to a camp-- and that at home I was in charge of my two sisters. So he made me a "Junior Counselor" for two weeks and I was allowed to attend the camp free of charge and to help with the handicapped campers.
We were so happy to see a CYO bus pull up at our front door and we would all three run down the stairs and get on the bus. We carried little bags that held our towels and bathing suits and swim caps. And each of us had a lunch box.
I was beginning one of the greatest living and learning experiences of my 7 years, My sisters were with other children who had difficulties--not just Down Syndrome but some were deaf and dumb and some were autistic, and some simply refused to speak.
My job was to help with lunch, to step in if there were any fights, and to help the campers get into their swim suits and shower and change back into clothes after the swim. I also helped with ARTS AND CRAFTS. I learned a few new things like knitting, clay work and advanced Gimp.
The Camp operated with a BUDDY SYSTEM and it was my job each hour to blow my whistle--YES I HAD A WHISTLE!-- and to do a Buddy Check. This was especially crucial if we were in the water. If anyone was not near his buddy, we would take both children out of the water. That worked well and most were always close to their BUDDIES.
Will it surprise anyone if I say that my sisters loved it-- especially Janie. She loved company and she loved to talk--like me.
So she would babble without let up to the children who would not talk. NO INTERRUPTIONS!
There was one silent little boy who was fearful of just about everything. Janie would lead him everywhere and never stop talking about what was going on.
One day in the locker room after the swim a little miracle happened-- I was helping Janie and Sheila get dressed, and I was buttoning their pinafores. The boy was struggling nearby to get out of his wet t-shirt, with it over his head, he yelled out the first words he had spoken in years HELP ME, JANIE.
WE all heard it and someone ran out to get a Senior Counselor--
but that day he said no more. In fact he started to cry as we all crowded around, and Janie said "Leave him alone." And we did and Janie took up her usual tasks: Drying him off, adjusting his clothes and babbling about the day. When he came back the next day, he still would not speak when prompted, but with Janie he would repeat some of her words or just laugh along.
That Camp ended too soon for all of us.
I, who was so busy trying to hide my shameful stuttering, came to wonder if that Boy's silence was not just an extreme form of STUTTERING FEAR --he avoided all speech.
And I vowed not to avoid speech, but the big lesson that I learned was how much anyone hates to be always on the receiving end of HELP and CARE.
Each of us longs to be useful and to help. The BUDDY SYSTEM is a brilliant antidote to pity and self pity. Everyone is helping someone else.
The CYO CAMP was Ed Hogan's way to help my family and so many people in Pawtucket to learn how to help themselves by helping others.
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