Join me @ IBOtoolbox for free.
John Kespert
Member Since: 12/28/2012
  
performance / stats
Country: United States
Likes Received: 6992
Featured Member: 19 times
Associates: 1118
Wall Posts: 675
Comments Made: 10070
Press Releases: 326
Videos: 7
Phone:
Skype:    
profile visitor stats
TODAY: 40
THIS MONTH: 2201
TOTAL: 325625
are we ibo associates?
business links
active associates
John Madeira    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Athena Gay    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Dominic Goss     
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Jellyfish Tele    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


howie martell     
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


VOU Deals    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


victor chukwuemeka    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Jimmy Diggs  
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Mohamad Yusoff Bin Sanusi    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Greg Ray     
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Tom Riach    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Zoran Simovic    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Jack Dawson     
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Jr R Nahan    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


Eugenijus Sakalauskas    
Last logged on: 6/26/2019


other ibo platforms
John Kespert   My Press Releases

Tale of a Grade Shool Drop-out – Pt. 7

Published on 11/13/2015
For additional information  Click Here

Tale of a Grade Shool Drop-out – Pt. 7
My Dad Gave Me Dirt”

    Based on that subtitle, If you are expecting this to be an expose of how my Dad who wasn't very kind to me, you're going to discover something quite the contrary. Yes, my Dad did give me dirt, but I am delighted that he did that for me.

    You see, other than the fact that I was no longer able to walk due to polio, in every other way I was like any other boy of my age. One of my favorite kind of toys was, of course, trucks. Dump trucks. Bulldozers. Fire trucks. Even a crane.

    When inside I could sit on the floor in my bedroom or the living room and play with my trucks there. Or if I was in my wheelchair I could play with them on the kitchen table. But outside it was different. Other kids could get down on the ground with their toy cars and trucks, but not me.

    So my Dad did two things that resolved that problem. First he bought an army stretcher, the kind made with canvas and wood. I could be lifted down onto it, and play with my trucks in the yard by the side of our house. (And it also would avoid my getting grass stains or much dirt on my clothes, which I'm sure my Mom appreciated.)

    But even though that side yard wasn't a real lawn like out in front or in the back of the house, the ground was packed down and hard. Therefore my Dad did the second thing...

    My Dad gave me dirt. Yup. One day a real dump truck backed into our side yard and unloaded a mound of dirt. Yes, dirt. Not wimpy sand like they put in sandboxes for little kids to play in. Not the loam kind of dirt folks use to grow gardens and lawns. This was simply dirt, complete with pebbles and small rocks. Perfect for little boys to use with their trucks, cars, and even toy cowboys and soldiers.

    In fact it such a perfect place that soon other boys from the neighborhood would come and join me to play in that wonderful mound of dirt. None of them had such a grand dirt pile in their yards. I even made a few new friends.

    One boy I became friends with was named Bruce. He'd come over from his house a couple of streets away and we'd have a good time together with our toy trucks. When he returned home and his Mom asked him where he'd been, he simply say that he'd been over playing with his friend John. That went on for a time, and I guess his Mom wondered why "John" never came over to their house. So one day she came with him so she could meet me and my Mom.

    That day Bruce's Mom discovered two things. The first was that her son's friend “John” was disabled. Bruce had never thought to mention that before. The other thing, which was just as much a surprise to her, was when my Mom came out to greet her, they instantly recognized each other as friends from high school!

    So, my Dad loved me so much that he gave me dirt. That pile of dirt made it possible for me to play with my trucks like other kids. And it helped me develop new friendships with other boys in the neighborhood. And it even helped a couple of people who hadn't seen each others in years discover they were now living just a couple of streets away from each other.

    I hope you've enjoyed this latest installment of “Tale of a Grade School Drop-out.” If you'd like to take a look at the others, here are the links to them: Part. 1, Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5 and Part 6.


    I also invite you visit my IBO Social/profile page to learn what I'm doing online for business now. At the bottom of that page you'll also see a picture of me and my wife with links to our web pages.

 

Member Note: To comment on this PR, simply click reply on the owners main post below.
-  Copyright 2016 IBOsocial  -            Part of the IBOtoolbox family of sites.