Good Words – Hidden Language
YOUNG SCOTT, at six years old, SKIPS DOWN a SIDEWALK along his grade school playground, DRAGGING A STICK along a CHAIN LINK FENCE. HE sees his GRANDPA waiting for him up ahead and RUNS to him.
SCOTT: My grade school, Hillcrest Elementary, was just a few blocks down from my house, my grandparents’ house — where I was once again living. Grandpa walked down every afternoon to walk me back home. I liked to drag sticks across the chain link fence as I ran up to him. And on this day, he had news.
YOUNG SCOTT: Is he here yet? Is he here yet?
SCOTT: My little brother, Mike, had been born and had come home.
YOUNG SCOTT RUNS up ahead along the street.
SCOTT: I was aware my mom was in the hospital having a baby and this was a time — in the mid 1970s — when hospitals would keep you beyond the current standard of one day after having a baby. It seems like my little brother was never going to come home. But, today, during the second week of September 1976, he did.Continue reading →