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...
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