Welcome to Brighton Park...

Brighton Park is the name of the neighborhood I went to live in after my stay with my Dad's aunt. It was and still is a neighborhood made up of hard-working people. The majority are hispanic. The homes are a mixture of newer brick bungalows and older frame homes. Ours was a brick bungalow.

I did not know what to expect once we lived there, but one thing was for sure, I was done taking krap from people. I made up my mind to stand up for myself no matter what. My determination was put to the test the first time I went for a bike ride around the neighborhood. Everything went fine until I was returning home. As I rode on the sidewalk three houses away from mine, a punk jumped out in front of me and grabbed my handlebars, saying how he was the boss around there and who was I? I told him I was the guy who was going to beat the hell out of him if he did not get out of my way. Well, I don't know if I scared him or what, but he moved and I went home feeling his eyes all over my back as I rode my bike to my house. As time passed I met more of the guys around there and I don't know if it was how I looked or spoke, but they wanted to know where I came from. I told them I was from the West Side and then everyone wanted to be my friend. I guess even back then the West Side was viewed as a tough place. And I believe it was since when I went to live in Brighton Park I was not intimidated by anyone. You see, I was used to dealing with Puertoricans, Mexicans and Blacks any of which would kick your ass just for looking at them the wrong way. So these mainly white boys did not scare me in the least. So even the girls wanted to meet me. I did not have a girlfriend to speak about. There had been a girl I liked just a few weeks before that....

This is a complicated story. This all took place when I lived on 26th. with my Dad's aunt. This girl who I knew ever since we were little kids started to look different to me. I was beginning to like her. My Dad's aunt did not help matters either since she would always try to put us together. Now I must add this, this girl was my Dad's cousin, my 2nd. cousin. No the aunt I was staying with was not her mom, she was her aunt also. Her dad had died in 1963 and her mom had remarried. Well, we started to talk more and more. We did like one another but we were cautious since we both had been brought up as Jehovah's Witnesses. We were afraid to do anything other than to talk to each other. I was no longer in school but she was. She attended Harrison High School and I would walk there and then we would walk back home together. Actually, I never got to walk with her all the way home since she was afraid of her mom. We both attended the same church and after the religious meetings we would meet outside and talk. Well this did not sit well with the elders of the congregation so they called a meeting of the parents. I thought it was so stupid since we did nothing more than talk. We were told not to leave the meeting and go outside to talk any longer. Well, we were spied on after that. I still went to the school and met her and her friends thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend so we let them think so even though we did nothing other young people our age were doing . We did not even hold hands. So you can easily figure out we never dated alone, kissed or anything . We however were called before the elders again. Her mom wanted me to stop talking to her daughter. No this was not because we were 2nd. cousins, rather it was because she claimed I was a gang member who used and sold drugs. I could not believe what I was hearing. Here I was losing my eyesight, being threatened by gangs, and now the adults who I looked up to were saying vicious lies about me. Well it got pretty bad. One evening I was going up the back stairs to the building I was staying at, when the police grabbed me and did what they do. I had no idea what was going on. The Ladies who lived on the first floor of the building heard all the noise so they came out and once they saw me they asked what was going on. The cops said that someone called and said there was someone trying to break ing to the apartments. They explained how I lived there and they knew me. So they proceeded to take me up to my apartment. When we were at the top of the stairs the mom started saying in spanish, "They finally got you!" I immediately realized she was the one who called the cops. I found out later from her other daughter that I was right. I never did anything wrong to this lady or to her family, but she hated me. Hated you think, I am using to strong of a word? Well, her daughter the one I liked told me that her mom told them they were moving to Texas. I thought she was joking. She said that her mom was going to do anything and everything to keep us apart.

I could not believe it when they were gone. We never even got to say bye. Yes, I realize we never touched, kissed or anything, but it still hurt. I felt something for her and she said she felt something for me. Maybe nothing would have ever come from it, and her mom made sure of that. I did not hear anything for months and then one day I got a letter from Texas, it was an invitation to her wedding along with a letter. A very short letter. I was shocked. I guess that was the first time my heart was broken.

I moved on with my life and I must say it turned out beautifully.

Moving from 2449 W. Grenshaw

As I mentioned in one of my previous post, I lived at 2449 W. Grenshaw til I was 16. The reason why I had to move from my childhood home is rather interesting.

Since my eye sight was failing I decided to keep to myself. Well the guys in the neighborhood somehow took the way I acted, or better still, the way I did not interact with them to mean I was in a rival gang. They could not accept that the reason I did not say hello or otherwise acknowledge them was because most of the time I could not see them well enough to recognize who they were. The local boys were of two gangs, the Harrison Gents and the Taylor Jousters. At the time they were not at war against each other.
Well, on one occasion one of my cousins came over and we decided to take a ride on my bike to buy some hot dogs, on the way there we encountered some of the local boys, and my cousin, who was a Spanish Cobra, represented himself as such. We escaped that one. However, now I was in for it. No explaining in the world would convince them that I was not a Cobra. They tried to beat me up on several occasions but I was faster then they were. One day, or I should say one evening when I could not see them coming, they chased me into my hallway with a bat. I got away but my parents decided I could not stay there any longer. I was sent to live with my Dad's aunt on 26th. and St. Louis, also in Chicago. Not a great area either with the Latin Kings and the up and coming two six. I mostly stayed inside. I did however venture out to buy something to eat. On one of these times at the Jack-in-the-box, when I sat down to eat a guy came to my table and asked if I was a King, I told him no that I did not belong to any gang. I did not know what to expect next, but he sat at my booth and started to tell me that most of the guys there were Latin Kings and they wanted to see if I represented myself as one of them or if I would say I was a two six. He stayed there til I finished and then he told me to wait a minute. I waited expecting the worst to happen next. He went and met with his boys and then signaled for me to meet him by the door. He asked me where I lived and I told him. He said that he talked the other guys into letting him talk to me alone, so that he could walk me home. He apparently believed me. He walked with me half way home and told me to watch my back since he could not help me after that day. I got to my aunts house and sat there and wondered, what next. Did I look like a punk? Apparently these gang-members thought I was some bad assed dude that had to belong to a gang. I did not as I repeatedly told people. One thing that did not help the matter either was the fact that an eye doctor my parents took me to see, prescribed some dark glasses for me since my eyes were so sensitive to the sun. I guess wearing these led many to believe I was a bad-ass.

Well, after this my mother convinced my father that I could no longer stay with my Dad's aunt. She also knew I could not return home to Grenshaw. She tried to convince him that they should look for a home somewhere else. It wasn't easy since the house we lived in belonged to his dad and he really did not want to leave there. Well, my mom and I went house hunting. She knew of some nice newer homes she had seen in an area where she had gone preaching. So we went to the area and were told of a bungalow that was for sale which did not have a for sale sign. We went to the house and rang the bell. A man answered and asked if he could help us. I told him why we were there, and he said that yes his house was for sale but that he could not show it to us. I asked him for the real estate info, and he went and got a card with the name and number of who we needed to speak with. As we were going down the front steps he called us back and said he saw no harm in letting us go inside. We were very excited. We stepped in and noticing how clean everything was, we removed our shoes. Yes, my mother did teach me manners. Well, my mom fell in love with the house. I did too, it looked like something out of a movie. A huge jump from where we lived. As soon as we got home I called the real estate agent and asked about the house. He told me about it and how much money the owner was asking for. He was asking $25,000. Back in 1971 this was a lot of money. When I told my dad he said no way could he afford that. My mom insisted on him seeing the house at least from the outside. He finally said fine. He saw it and liked it but still insisted that we could not afford it. I called the agent back and asked how much money down we would need and what the monthly payement would be. He gave me a rough idea. I passed it on to my dad. He was still against it but we went to see the real estate agent at his office. We drove from there to the house and he walked my dad through it. My dad made them an offer he was hoping they would refuse. He offered $21,000. They did refuse that but they came back with a counter offer of 21,500. This to me sounded great, but what did I know at the age of 16. Well it took everything my mom and I could muster to convince my dad that this was a great opportunity. Well he agreed and in February of 1972 we moved in to our new home. It was like living in a dream. We actually had space between our house and the house next door, and we had a garage. We had storm doors and windows. It was just too much! Finally I could live at home and freely walk the streets of my neighborhood, or could I?

Interesting day...

Today I went downtown to take care of some legal matters. While I was there I met an African American young lady. As we started talking she told me her husband was visually impaired. She went on to tell me that a few years back one morning he woke up with blurred vision only to find out later he had a tumor. Well, the tumor was removed but he still has vision problems. She told me that he does not want to leave the house and won't even visit family. I talked to her on how important it is for him to get help. She agreed and then I told her how she needs to take care of herself so that he does not drag her down with him. She then told me that she already is feeling that way, so I tried to help her understand that it is not her fault and she must not start to feel guilty for feeling how she does. From her expression I believe she needed to hear that. She mentioned she would not even feel right going out since he did not want to go. So, again I mentioned to her that her life cannot stop because of him. This will not help him and most definitely hurt her. Anyway I enjoyed speaking with her and I hope that something of what I said brought some sort of comfort to her. I am glad it was me and not some guy out there who would take advantage of her vulnerable state of mind. Maybe it was meant for her and I to meet in our journey through life. By the way her husband is an educated man who was a police officer before he became ill. I really hope he seeks help before he loses her.

A trip down memory lane...

I went back as far as I could remember. I got to the age of 3 or 4. I recall living on Filmore St. on the second floor. I remember playing with little die-cast cars under the ironing board as my mother would iron, not too safe now that I think of it. I would place the cars on the legs of the board and watch as they crashed to the ground. I also remember we had a coldspot fridge with the freezer on the bottom, I would lie on the top of the freezer door and swing back and forth. Whenever the lady downstairs thought I was making too much noise, she would hit her ceiling with her cane. I also recall going to pick-up my sister from kindergarten. Back then long logs like those now used for telephone poles, were used as car stops in parking lots. I would balance myself on those all the way to King School where my sister was. I remember asking my mom when I would get to go to school also. Another thing I remember was all the spools of empty thread I used to own. You see my mother made most of her clothes and I think most of my sisters also. So, she always had a lot of thread and when she was done with it I would get the spools. Maybe it doesn't sound like much but I had a whole lot of fun with those. Those were for me my lego and building blocks. sometimes I would get some string and place it through the center hole of the spools, as many as I could fit, and that became a train.

Well, one weekend my father's cousin came to town with his wife and since they had no where to stay, my father told them they could stay in our apartment. We went and stayed by my grandfather's house for the weekend. Well, when we went back home, the landlord was waiting for us at the door, and he said we had to move out. Apparently my Dad's cousin did not act too well while he stayed in our place, so we were thrown out. Unlike today, we were not given any time to move out. We moved out that very same evening. We then went to live at 2449 W. Grenshaw St. where I would live for the next 12 years of my life, until I was sixteen.

I do have many vivid memories of those following 12 years of my life. Some good some not so good. I remember playing outside a lot of the time. I would play marbles and tops. I would also ride my bike. I had a very good friend who I called Junior. I was called Papo by all. We had a pretty good friendship until we got older and he went to Catholic school and I went to public school. Yes, that made a difference, they thought they were better than us. And they made us feel that way whenever they had a chance.

As I got older I started to realize that the part of my life which I excused as clumsiness, and my father as stupidness, was actually something I did not share with all other kids my age. You see, I always came indoors as the sun set and I never really paid attention to the fact that I could not see very well in the dark, I thought everyone saw the same as I did. But as I heard the kids outside playing for hours after I had already come inside, I would wonder what was going on. The part my father thought was stupidness on my part was how I would always walk into light post, parking meters, fire hydrants and even people. I forever had bruises on my forhead. I remember one evening I had a new blue suit on and we were walking to our church meeting and I walked and fell into a pile of garbage and got filty. Than to top it off, I got wipped when I got home. I did not understand why these things would happen to me. I started to buy into my Dad's theory, I was just stupid.

It got worse as I noticed I could not do the same things even in the daytime anymore as I use to. I could not see very well from my sides. I would attempt to play softball with the other kids and when the ball was hit in my direction, it would fall right by me or worse, it would hit me in the head. They now started calling me stupid, which was one of the kinder names I was called. I started to spend more time in my room alone.

My mother did realize something was not right. She would take me to Childrens Memorial Hospital for eye test. Since she knew very little english and unlike nowadays, people really did not care about making sure parents fully understood what was going on. It is sad to think that all those years my mother was searching for an answer, the answer was right there but no one took the time to explain it to her. During all this time my grandfather on my mothers side was blind. I don't know if my mom ever thought there might be a connection. Maybe not since they blamed my grandfather's blindness on an evil curse they called the evil eye they claim a lady put on him. Well, whatever my mother thought I will never know. I continued to stumble through life. Well, when it was time to go to high school, my mother took me for my physical exam. She proceeded to take me to a Puertorican eye doctor. I still recall his name, Julio Ferrer. As soon as he looked into my eyes he staarted to tell my mom how I would continue to lose my eyesight and how I should continue to attend special school and classes. Well, my mom was shocked almost as shocked as he was when she told him that she had never been told I had anything wrong. And whats more, she told him how she new nothing of special classes or anything. He gave what I had a name, Retinitis Pigmentosa. He filled my mom in through her tears and made an appointment for me to see a retinal specialist. Well, Dr. Fishmen confirmed what the other doctor told us. He took the time to explain everything in detail to me. There I was 13 years old and finally hearing how I was not stupid after all. Oh, by the way, my grandfather's blindness was not caused by any evil eye.

Well, finding out the truth did not make it any easier to accept. It was hard. And I did not want anything to do with special school or classes. I felt that the few friends I had left would only make fun of me and laugh. And believe me in those days they would have. So now I tried to live a lie. I would pretend I could see as well as the next guy. Most of the time I failed badly. But I had lived my life this way, not being able to see many things for a long time, the only difference was it now had a name. Not many people knew or cared to learn what it was. I had gym teachers throw away the notes from my doctor stating I should be excused from activities which could injure me. I still remember his words, "No doctor's note is going to excuse you from my class". I hope he rotts in hell for that!

many different types of lenses and different colored ones were tried on me with no success. I went to My first year of high school. I tried to make it work. Now when i bumped into someone knocking them into their locker, I was viewed as a tough guy. Little did they know how embarrassed I was. I had a really hard time in my classes. There were two classes I went to only a few times, no, not because I didn't like them it was because I could not see the number in the glass which was painted over the doorway. Most of the time when I finally found the correct door, the bell had rung and I was not allowed to go in. Once again I was viewed as a tough guy. I wanted to learn, I loved to learn. I decided i was not going back. I think my mother understood, my father on the other-hand was disappointed that his only male son was not living up to what he expected. You see my Dad has always loved sports and he wanted me to be the same, but he also wanted me to be involved in sports with the kids from the church. Well I gave it a shot. I have always liked sports myself, I just was not able to pretend. I recall when being placed on a team I would be more than happy to try and hit the hell out of the softball. And I got pretty good at timing it just right. however when it was time for our side to play the outffield I would make excuses. After a while I was no longer picked to be on anyone's team.

There is so much more, but I will end this post now...

False expectations...

You know as we grow up we have certain expectations of life. This would mean that we expect certain things from ourselves and others. Well, we were half right. We can and by all means should have certain expectations of ourselves as a person, but to have such regarding others is false. I use the word false since it is the opposite of true. We can and must be true to ourselves, but that is where it should stay. Not that others can't be true to us, but for us to expect it would just be setting ourselves up for disappointment. As you read this you might be thinking I have a grudge or that I am a very bitter person. You actually couldn't be further from the truth. I have learned through life that when we depend on others we can easily be hurt. While when we depend on ourselves and others do give of themselves to us, it is an added blessing. You see when you recieve from another without any previously imagined outcome or result, we can only benefit and be surprised and pleased instead of hurt or disappointed.

I know you who read this blog are probably tired of hearing me say that no one owes us anything, but it is the truth. Most people who live waiting for someone else to do for them actually live a very empty life.

I call my life a journey and in this journey there are chapters. As one closes another opens. I welcome anyone into my journey through life. Don't feel bad if at first I seem distant, that is just my survival instinct. You see I am cautious of feeling certain feelings for someone only to learn they don't feel the same towards me. So I have built this invisible barrier which protects me. It is however not a barrier which can not be broken, it can, and I welcome anyone with good intentions to break through, I will not put up a fight once it is clear to me that your intentions are wholesome. You will find that I am a very loving and kind individual. I have learned many things in my journey through life. I will say that some of the things I've learned weren't of my choosing, but they were lessons learned nonetheless. I am a much calmer person now. I realize that certain things are going to happen which I cannot control no matter what I say or do. I therefore love and strive to do good so that I may bring a little happiness to others lives. As I always say, maybe someday in someway the good I do will return to me, and hey, if it never does, that is ok since I no longer have false expectations.....

Just walking...

You Know I was thinking on how we all take things for granted when they are going well. This also includes relationships. We all do it and if someone says they don't or never have, they are a bold-faced liar.

I am not saying it is the right thing to do, it just happens that way. When things are going good we just go with the flow. We enjoy the fact they are going well. When we hit a snag in a relationship we then strive to correct it. Sadly, sometimes it is a case of too little too late. When we realize that we have lost someone we deeply love, need and want in our lives, they have gone in search of something and or someone else.

Well, that's life and we just need to face it and do the best we can with what we have left of our lives.

I want to switch now and talk about other things we take for granted simply cause they aren't an issue yet. I am talking about things we do naturally. Things like walking, talking, eating, laughing, reading, sight-seeing and so on.

I always loved to walk. I would walk with no destination in mind. I would walk just to walk and clear my mind. I believe that was my medication at the time. All I had to do was walk and I would feel better about myself or a situation. After I couldn't walk as freely as I had been used to because of my failing eye sight, I started to feel depressed, and eventually had to go on meds. There was really no reason for me to feel down, I just did. I missed my long walks. I missed going to stores just to look around. I missed seeing the different expressions on people's faces. I never realized how important walking was for me.

Today, I went to CVS to pick-up my blood pressure medication and as I walked I realized that my eyes were closed. Yes, I was walking with my eyes completely shut. You see, not so long ago, I was able to see the difference in the shades of brightness and shadows on the sidewalk, even though it was very dim, it was something. As I walked today I realized that I no longer see any difference in the shades of light otherr than a white-silver cloud for day and black for night. I could not see colors for a long time now, but being able to distinguish small differences in light would help me keep my orientation. WOW! How we take for granted just walking a straight line without having to think about it. I walked at a rapid pace before. Now I walk in a snails pace. I need to listen to everything around me so that I can walk relatively straight. I listen out for the slightess sounds to orient myself. I mean I even listen to the space between me and a building. Yes, the sound changes as you get closer or farther from the wall. I discovered today that I found it necessary to come to a complete stop when I could not hear any cars moving. I was using the sound of the cars to keep me moving in the correct direction. I discovered a whole new world of blindness today. I took it fairly well, I did not panic since I knew I would not solve anything by getting upset. I will need to continue to practice walking by myself. I won't lie and say it is not a scary ordeal, it is but this is the life I have been given and it is not going to change anytime soon. So, back to my topic, even the small things in life should not be taken for granted, since in the blink of an eye they can be taken from us.

I write this blog about my life as I have today, not to recieve pity or any special treatment, I do so, so that others can learn from my expieriences in life. I don't wish anyone to lose their eye sight or any of their faculties, but if you do, take heart, discover new ways to do things. And when you feel alone in the world and you start to question why you should even go on.... Do just that go on with life do the best you can with what you have. Take every opportunity to do something which makes you feel good about yourself. Laugh out loud even if others think your nutts. Do it for you! Believe me when I tell you, no one is going to come to your rescue just because you wish it to happen. You need to be strong and rely on yourself. Yes, I will be the first to admit that it is hard and many times a deep sadness comes over you because you wish things were different, well guess what? They aren't different, it is what it is. No one is going to give you any special treatment, so don't expect it. When You start depending on others you quickly become a burden to them. No one owes us anything. Do what you have to do and make the best of what you have been given to work with. May God bless us as we venture into the world just wanting to belong to someone and to have someone love us for who and what we are and have to offer...

Are these things possible...

Can love survive when only one feels it...
Can happiness return...
Can realistic dreams be met...
Can loneliness belong to the past...
Can one's heart beat for another...
Can all this happen...
Can it happen to me...