Through the past brightly
It’s the same old story, yeah Everywhere I go,
I get slandered, libeled, I hear words I never heard in the Bible
And I’m one step ahead of the shoe shine
Two steps away from the county line
Just trying to keep my customers satisfied,
Satisfied
— Paul Simon from “Keep
the Customer Satisfied”
REMUS 1 /2/22 — That’s always been my goal. I’m obliged to come up with 700 words, week in and week out for publication in this fishwrap and my aim is to always come up with something somebody, somewhere, can relate to and perhaps even elicit a chuckle or even a polite guffaw. Using the lowest common denominator (territory I’m intimately familiar with), whenever I write, my main goal is simply — not to suck.
You can be the judge.
In my last two columns, I briefly mentioned working as an instructor/counselor at the WATCH Program in Sonora, California, back in the early ’80s. Here’s how that came about.
I grew up near the Adirondacks in upstate New York. On our honeymoon, Debbie and I visited the jaw-dropping Canadian Rockies. When we escaped from Michigan shortly after our nuptials, we decided to make a home in the Sierras. Big-ass mountains, trout fishing, skiing, motorcycling, 300 days of sunshine a year— yessiree, Bob, that sounded like just the ticket for a 30-year old Counter Culture couple.
The only trouble was finding a job in a largely rural community during the Reagan Recession. Unemployment from Meijer kept us alive while I haunted the Employment Office daily. When I spied an intriguing index card on a bulletin board, I ripped it down and pocketed it. All’s fair in love and feeding your family.
The employer was looking for a candidate with a Bachelor’s in Education or Social Work to instruct and counsel developmentally-disabled adults. Work Activities for Tuolumne/calaveras Handicapped (WATCH) now known as WATCH Resources, a nonprofit corporation, began providing services for adults with intellectual disabilities In
1972.
One of my BA’S was in Multi-disciplinary Social Science, a pre-law program. “Close enough,” I said. I think I padded my resumé with a couple fictional appropriate experiences. To my good fortune, I got the job. At the time of my hire, WATCH was located in the rickety old Poverty Hill schoolhouse in Stent, essentially a Gold Rush era ghost town. With the exception of a half dozen residential structures, Stent consisted of the schoolhouse occupied by WATCH and the Stent Bar. Shortly before my arrival, WATCH added a doublewide trailer.
Stent lay just down the road from Quartz — another Gold Rush era ghost town. I loved Tuolumne County. It was like living in an episode of The Lone Ranger.
Given that it was my first day on the job, I pulled up on my motorcycle an hour before the 9 am start time. The Program Director was there, along with a dozen clients but the rest of the staff didn’t show up until around 8:55.
I walked into the trailer and encountered a middle-aged woman in sort of a chiffon dress, sitting at a table, drinking a cup of coffee, smoking a cigarette. “Today’s my first day, “I told her. “How long have you worked here?”
“I don’t work here,” she answered, “I’m a client.
It wasn’t my first time interacting with people who, in a less enlightened time, were referred to as “mentally retarded” In fifth and sixth grade, I rode the “short bus” from our home in Chittenango, to Immaculate Conception Elementary in Fayetteville, on its way into Syracuse, because it was the only county transportation available at the time.
By the end of my first day, I was in love with the WATCH clients. There was a wide range of developmental disabilities — from my new friend, Sally in the red dress, to little non-verbal souls like Patti, who spent a good portion of her time, scooting around on the floor, making soft cooing noises.
One of my favorites was Cammie, who spoke very little other than in profane non sequiturs. (“Expletive deleted”) she’d say as I walked by.
I’d spin around, in mock anger. “What did you say to me?” I’d sputter.
Cammie would smile slyly and whisper, “I said I like you.”
Thus ended my first day on the job.
And so it went.
(Editor’s note: all names changed)