General Electric

General Electric RF Employee Raises Autism Awareness 27 Apr 2012 Source: Communications "We have spent the last seventeen years rolling in and out of hospitals, ER's, OR's and countless specialists offices...incurring incredible time, financial burden and emotional barriers... it is all we know, it is our norm..." says Scott LeRette, field manager for CareCredit. Scott LeRette's family has experienced every emotion imaginable since their first son was born. Austin, now 17 years old, was born with an atrial septic defect (ASD), a large hole in his heart as well as some veins that were in the wrong place. They knew from the beginning that he might also have the brittle bone disease, osteogenisis-imperfecta, just like his mother... and he does. He has broken almost every type of bone in his body including his back two different times. When Austin turned 11 years old he was officially diagnosed as having autism. His brother, Logan, is 15 years old, has no health issues and is an accomplished athlete and student. "Logan is truly the protective "older" brother and is also a very special young man," adds Scott. Austin's conditions limit him from experiencing things in life like sports and other activities. His bones are weakening; even the little bones in his ears are deteriorating. He hurts most of the time, but it hasn't slowed him down. He has a good attitude and is well liked by students and people around him. According to Scott, "I calculated the odds of one person having all three health issues and the number is right around 1:423,500,000." When asked how he and his family cope with it all... with two active sons and the challenges of living with special needs (Scott's wife, Teresa, also has the bone disease and arthritis), Scott offers this: "It is an everyday journey of extreme highs and lows. There is rarely a middle ground and time to chill. Faith and perseverance have gotten us to where we are today. From a financial perspective, GE's FSA and HRA benefit options have been a real lifesaver with the out-of-pocket expense we have incurred for treatment, services and prescription expenses. Recently, GE benefits were used for hearing services for Austin (and me). We also routinely use the Employee Assistance Program (EAP) for Austin with great success and we use CareCredit for our dental and vet bills making the times more manageable when funds are stretched. We have seen GE medical equipment in use for my family's diagnostics. I appreciate all the support of our company and I have to bow-down to my wife-she is the one at home and running the ship we call our family. Dealing with broken bones, countless trips to doctors and managing meltdowns, school board meetings and every thing else it takes to run a home...she is amazing. I don't know if I could do her job." Back Row L-R: Teresa and Scott LeRette Front Row L-R: Logan and Austin Four years ago, Scott began writing in a notebook to help vent and release his range of emotions. Two years later, he took his writing to a blog where he shares his thoughts of life with Austin. He never anticipated the overwhelming response the blog would have or the positive affect it would have on himself. Last year Babble.com and AutismSpeaks voted Scott's blog, http://www.austintistic.blogspot.com/, the number one "dads" blog for autism.* Scott's mission to raise awareness to all people whom are "different" has garnered attention from entertainers, celebrities, philanthropists and thousands of other readers. Motivated by the incredible response from his blog, Scott decided he needed to share his family's story with a larger audience. Scott is now working on his memoir that he hopes will inspire followers and readers on a national level. It also provides a platform for him to speak about special needs, disabilities and bullying. "It is my sincere hope that I can use our story to open eyes to the struggles and joys of living with a special boy, Austin, and how it is possible to live life on your own terms and win." Scott's dream of sharing his story with a broader audience is coming true. He was recently signed by one of the top New York literary agencies. When Scott is not working for CareCredit, he spends time with his family and tries to speak to groups and organizations about special needs, autism, broken bones and life. This was such a nice thing for my company to do for me and my family. This story went out to the entire General Electric company... all the way to the top. The only thing I would change is that Austin has a "great" attitude, not just a good one. Thanks. S

Awareness

Got Awareness?

April is Autism Awareness month. Led by the strength and vision of Autism Speaks, the worlds most well-known autism advocacy organization… many landmarks, buildings, venues and households will “light it up blue” in honor of this amazing thing we call autism. The grand structures such as the Empire State Building in New York City, Rockerfellar Center, Niagra Falls, Christ The Redeemer Statue in Brazil, The Sydney Opera House, the Willis Tower in Chicago, the CN Tower in Toronto and the Kingdom Tower in Saudi Arabia will all be shining blue proudly to pay tribute to this worldwide issue the CDC and Autism Speaks is now calling (appropriately) an epidemic. Neighborhoods, restaurants, museums, storefronts and even gas stations are all shining the planet blue letting you know they care, they get it and maybe are just trying to know a little bit more about this misunderstood phenomenon. No corner of the earth is untouched by this condition which is now being diagnosed at the incredible rate of 1 in 88 children (1 in 50 in boys, CDC/AutismSpeaks).

It seems that the loud-speaker of awareness has gotten very large and loud indeed, but then why is our country responding, local, state and federal entities in the manner they are? At a time where we see an epidemic sweep the world and the numbers are too big to ignore, why do so many of the decisions seem counter-productive? And from some of the biggest groups, such as our government seem to be tone-deaf to this perfect storm? Some times the silence is deafening. I will explain.

Locally, in the state of Iowa, our governor and the state house just last year cut funding (20 million dollars) to the states Area Education Associations (AEA’s), the group that help so many families of all kinds of kids with special needs. At a time when special needs and learning disabilities rates are blossoming… we are making cuts to the very groups and services that in many instances help the most. I don’t understand it. I know a little about politics but it is a shame to think vital services may have been cut to satisfy a budgetary shortfall and need. If I am wrong I will listen.

Let me revisit a point. The most recent numbers for autism diagnosis put out by the CDC just a few weeks ago show the number to be 1 in 88 children. Yes, this number is very staggering in its meaning…but what was it ten or twenty years ago? The CDC prior to the 1990’s had the numbers at about 3 in 10,000 kids. I have not run the math but what I hope this shows us all is that we have a serious issue to tackle instead of running away from.

Even our federal government makes mistakes. Yep, they do. Last year Autism Speaks wanted the White House to light it up blue…but was denied, no reason given. Two years ago they lit it up pink, and appropriately so, for breast cancer awareness, but no for autism. This year my friend at Autism Speaks says the White House was not asked again. I know something like the White House can not do something like this for every thing that comes along, but knowing what we know about these numbers and what is on the horizon…why not?
For the longest of times it was ME in denial. I did not want to think of my son as anything but perfect and healthy and beautiful. And he is. But this denial is something that many parents can experience and until the average person understands what it is we are dealing with then maybe that same denial can be seen from other groups, organizations and folks whom we could really have lending a hand.

What is on the horizon? I think for one there are school systems and boards that have absolutely no idea what is about to happen over the next decade. I can use my own experience to illustrate a point. Currently Austin is the first and only autistic student (I am very sure) in our high school. The last year has been very hard on him my wife and family. Every step has been difficult. We have made tremendous progress, but part of the difficulty is simply growing pains. Change is hard. And when you are in an environment where many of those involved are not adequately trained it makes it even more trying. You may be seen as having a child whom you want special treatment for. In reality, they may need modifications and special changes, but that is what special needs are. Aren’t they?

You have special students whom may be put into environments with teachers, trainers, coaches and others that have never experienced an autistic student. What sometimes happens? I understand it, I really do…but many times as we have seen with our son, they are told to behave, try harder…essentially, and discipline them. The teacher may be defensive or have some fear for something they have never encountered. To what fault? This all gets back to awareness.

For us it means ever-vigilant awareness and advocacy for our son. No one else will advocate for him, nor should they. It is our job as parents to our son. And it is a 24/7 non-stop job. We have stepped on toes and probably upset a few people along the way. We are way past feeling bad about this. No, I am not insensitive, it is just a fact that changes and awareness training is not easy and in many cases, like ours, it is all so new to many of those touched by it.

And all the while services and funding is cut.

This month is autism awareness month.

What would I like the world to know?

Autism is an epidemic, a phenomenon and health condition which is circling the globe. We must come together and raise the level of awareness and understanding. Awareness to what it is and an understanding of who those people are. I want everyone to know who my son is and what he is not. He wants the same things your kids want in life. He just receives and processes things a little different than you or I. I want to share this with the world.

Over the next decade we will be seeing many autistic youths turning into young adults. Contributing members of society and people you will all know and see in your neighborhoods, colleges and places of employment.

So what do we do? For me the answer lies in the realm of the local. Local, grassroots involvement to raise awareness and get more people involved. People that don’t understand are those we want to touch. Doing the things like I hope I am doing. Talking to people…one at a time.

Autism Speaks is awesome, but I think they would agree that all of us on the ground can be the force and face of change to share with the world all there is to know and learn about autism. Autism will touch you and your family one day.

The numbers guarantee it. So get involved and make a difference.


NOTE: Next week I will share more about OsteoGenesis-Imperfecta and how Unbreakable Austin really is. Recently Austin has missed several days of school with tests and procedures for his back which has been hurting him a great deal. Austin hurts…every day. I live and talk about autism so much but as Austin grows up and gets older it is all too evident that his bone disease is also going to be with him for the duration. And it hurts knowing how little we can do.

Kudos, Deserved

Kudos, Deserved

After some much needed time away from the keyboard I try tonight to knock off the rust and get back to sharing the backlog of stories I have for my follow-up effort. Over the last two months I have focused my efforts on finishing my book proposal and all the other things that go into making a book so you one day can get the actual product in your local bookstore or on your Kindle, Nook or iPad. Little did I know as I spent time sharing these stories what would happen as I pounded out these moments residing in my heart and on my brain…

Writing a book is easy. I jest a bit, but truth be told, it is. Well, it was at least the actual writing part. Over the last several months I have been putting together the package- proposal (kind of like a business plan), the appropriate documents and letters. All to secure representation and ultimately put it all together to be sold to a major publishing label in New York. This has all taken what seems like almost as much time as the writing, but for sure it has been the much more frustrating and challenging part.

Of course the writing, putting the stories together and choosing what I want to blog about and share is not easy. But it was challenging and invigorating. I found out something I knew nothing of- that I really enjoy writing and why I continue to blog and write the second part of Austintistic.

The name has changed. Many people want to know how it is going. What’s the status and when can I buy it. And now I know something… it takes a long time to get from A to Z when you sit down to write a book. All I can tell you right now is that I hope we can see it in stores this year sometime and hopefully sooner than later. And a lot of that depends on how able and strong a package I have put together for the folks who want the privilege of taking my “baby” and bringing it to market. And I do believe that. I see my stories as ones that people want and maybe even need to read, therefore, I want the best person and publishing house that will take it and run with it and help me make it a winner. And for me the definition of success will be the number of people I can touch, advocate for and even educate. The better my book does, the more I can advocate.

I had no true idea what I was getting into four years ago as I started to jot down little snippets of incidents and events our family had been through over the years. I suppose I was starting a diary in my mind that would possibly be therapeutic for me. The stress, frustration and challenges we faced had been in our face from day one and what better a way to deal with them than write them down and relive them.
Tough times and good times.

So I did.

And a slow burn ensued. I wrote the notes down and added them to a spiral I kept in my bag. But nothing earth-shattering or enlightening happened until the day Austin broke his leg the same day he has just gotten a cast off of his right arm. The day my brother Kevin asked me if I ever thought our luck was something real or were we being repaid for something. He asked me if I had ever thought of putting more into it and telling people about it. You know… truth being often-times stranger than fiction. But I didn’t really get rolling. I put more notes in the book. But more than anything I was really just cataloging my thoughts. For what, I was not sure.

And then I read a random blog. I don’t even recall what it was about. But it got me thinking. So I learned about blogs. Once that happened it all came crashing together and has led me to where we are today.

What I was not prepared for was the effect it, the whole journey, has and continues to have on me. Over the past two years I haven’t given much time or thought as to what this path has done for my mind let alone soul. Only now am I really starting to comprehend and understand how this process has touched me. Just as it has done that something else has happened… people have touched me. I have new friends and relationships. I have learned. I have grown. I have stumbled and I have persevered. Something has happened and it is profound.

In the end and today as I sit here tapping away in my hotel room what I am thinking about are all the people whom have touched my life over the last few years. To date all but a couple of posts have been about specific moments in time. They were stories of me, Austin Logan, Teresa…our family. But before I get my next story (I have about 15-20) ready to go I wanted to share with you some of the people who have stepped into my life. Some have come crashing in as you will see and others have kind of slipped in the side door. But these are all people I am sure you would all love to know.

My blog is not about products, services or offers, and it will continue to be just that. However, over the past six months I have gotten countless offers to review a book, screen a documentary or movie, check out some diet-specific products or even join in a political cause for special needs. And I have hesitated and rejected them all. But I can’t deny and ignore some of them any longer so I want to share some of them and as you will see they are not about selling anything. They may have a book a movie or a product, but what is important is what they have done to me and what impact I see them having on the world, however small the way.

I share with you some fine human beings who have touched my life:

Virginia Breen and Elizabeth Bonker – Virginia (Ginnie) Breen was a venture-capitalist and deal maker for years on Wall Street. She lives in New Jersey and now has a wonderful family with three children; two are profoundly affected by autism.

One fateful day after some routine immunizations her daughter Elizabeth lost all ability to communicate. At least verbally. Their book I Am In Here is a wonderful story the two of them wrote. The book is written with Ginny’s words and Elizabeth’s poetry.

The makeup of the words and poetry make for a story that is delightful and at times remarkable. She replays some of the stories of dealing with school systems and politics which has touched me too as we currently navigate those waters.

Ginnie has shown me through reading the story and talking with her that we can all learn. I have not really taken a stance and for sure tried to not get controversial on my blog but I learned something from Ginnie. While immunizations may not be the devil or root cause of autism…some kids like Elizabeth I feel may be hyper-sensitive to these types of vaccines which truly look like the causative factor in the change in her daughter.

One part of her book hit me right between the eyes. I will paraphrase, “There are two types of teachers. The first being ones who will generally see special needs children as problems to be endured. The other will see them as treasures waiting to be unearthed.” Amen.

Marc Zimmerman – Marc is a friend and confidante. Marc is the father of twin autistic boys living in Southern California. He was frustrated with the lack of quality tools which met his boy’s needs… so he created his own. The Social Express is an interactive app for autistic youths which is now available on iTunes. Austin has had a great deal of fun navigating the tool.

What has surprised me the most was as a parent it showed me how regardless of the type of autism, social skills are still the hallmark and stumbling block for all affected children. The app is designed to help autistic children navigate all types of social situations in order to better prepare them for life as a contributing member of society. It will help them with the skills needed to create, build and maintain meaningful relationships. It may seem really basic but something as simple as looking someone in the eyes when they talk to you is a skill many autistics struggle with. The app shows you how to work on this and what it means.

The fact that politics and legislation, not to mention ignorance can have a chilling effect on progress and it is people like Marc who are taking charge and making a difference. With a condition like autism being one that often leaves me feeling like I am being dragged behind a car, Marc has turned things upside down and inside out and is in front of that car a leading the way.

Marc has shown me that it is people like him and other parents just like him who will make the difference and progress we so desperately need in the special needs community. He is a difference-maker and I thank him.
Find Marc and The Social Express at: www.thesocialexpress.com

Angie LoSchiavo/FlyPropeller and William Dear/Director – I have never reviewed a movie before. I have had several requests to look at documentaries and books and other things, but this was the first one that caught my eye and made me think. I was asked to pre-screen A Mile In His Shoes… which is a true story about an autistic boy played by Luke Schroder and starring Dean Cain of Superman fame.

The story of Mickey Tusler is about an eighteen year-old boy who is stuck on his farm with an enabling mother and gate-keeping father. All while Mickey has a special gift- he has a rocket for an arm but has yet to touch a baseball. He throws apples into an old bucket as his pet pig looks on and eats up the smashed curve balls out of the troth at the ground.

This is a touching story which subtly shows a couple of very significant things- it showed me something I know all too well: A father who is in full-blown denial and will not release his son to the world for the thought of him being hurt, humiliated or worse and the mother who enabled it all to continue. It shows the young man who learns to stick up to his father, face his fears and learn to be a part of something outside of his farm. All the while it shows the inner struggle Mickey has with making these decisions and the fact that so many unknowns and people just don’t know. They don’t know what autism is and he struggles with this. And Dean Cain plays the part of the small minor-league manager who takes a chance on an unknown only because he is at his wits end and a breath away from being fired. In the process he is enlightened.

Mickey made me think about some of the things I have encountered, endured and grown from. I think all people will like this movie. There is no violence, no sex and no bad language. What a concept. This is a wonderful movie which I hope makes one think.

A Mile In His Shoes premieres on GMT tomorrow. Here is a trailer if you want to take a peak.

Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ev2T0BFetH4 You may be asked to hit control/click.

Elaine Hall – Vista Del Mar, Vista Inspire Program – I had the privilege of speaking with Elaine a few months ago. She is a double-Emmy award-winning creator of the HBO documentary, Autism: The Musical. She is located in southern Cailifornia with her autistic son who was also featured in the documentary.

Elaine is a person who too is making a difference through her speaking, advocacy and education all over the country.

At the Vista Del Mar School she is part of the VIP- The Vista Inspire Program. This is a school which serves autistic children using music as the vehicle. Included in the VIP are also specific schools catering to Bar/Bat Mitzvah adaptions. They are in the process of adding another religious part of the program as well as a post-Bnai-Mitzvah program.

The school has helped thousands of special children throughout the state of California. To me it looks like a model for communities all over the land and they are blessed to have the interest, funds and hands to make this all possible.

It takes people like Elaine to do what she is doing to make the difference we need in the special needs world.

Barry Switzer – It has been a pleasure getting to know Coach Switzer. Beyond the obvious, football, many people don’t know what makes Barry Switzer who he is. I suppose I don’t know either but I do know something about him- He Gets It. Coach has been a part of the special needs community through the Special Olympics for almost forty years. This is something I am sure he doesn’t make much noise about and also something most people don’t know.

This came as no surprise to me. In all I know of the Coach one thing I have learned is that he has always, always been for the little guy. The struggling student or the needy young athlete trying to get out and off the streets. He has always been a giver.

I will never forget how he responded when I asked him why he did it. And I will paraphrase, “All special kids have the passion and potential. We need to get them out of the house, off the couch and involved. Most of the special kids I know have as much competitive drive and character as the greatest of athletes. We need to get them out of the house and unlock their hidden potential.”

I could write volumes about Coach Switzer but I will leave you with what I know… The Coach Gets It.

Ricky Robinson – She is the co-director of Descanso Medical Center for Development and Learning in La Canada, California. She is a Clinical Professor of Pediatrics at the Keck School Medicine of USC and Senior Attending Physician at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. She has been in private practice for over thirty years and working with special needs for more than twenty of those years.

Dr. Robinson is a founding board member of Cure Autism Now (now known as AutismSpeaks) and has devoted much of her life to helping children with autism.

I have had the pleasure of getting to know Dr. Robinson and I knew I liked her in the first five minutes as we chatted…she was born an Iowa girl, just up the road in Sioux City.

What I took away and impacted me in our first conversation was something very simple. It was something my friend Angie and I have spoken about at length. It was refreshing to hear her say the same thoughts. They were that she felt all kids should have an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) in our schools. Why shouldn’t we be creating and educating all of our children based on the needs they present? Creating a plan for each and every student to tap into their utmost available potential because every child IS different. Wow.

She enlightened me on her feelings of children and where we are going in the future in terms of education, advocacy and awareness. As connected and influential she may be with the media, the entertainment world and AutismSpeaks she admitted the number one thing we can do is at the community level- educating children, adults, teachers, educators and mentors alike. Getting a grand stage is obviously an important thing but to make meaningful changes it must take grass roots. These were the things we talked of and I couldn’t agree more.

It all begins at home. And again, Amen.

Kerry Magro – Seton Hall Graduate Student (completed undergraduate at Seton Hall- Deans List). 2011 United Nations Youth Representative and USA Today All-College Team. The list is too long to continue, but Kerry is an impressive young man… and he is autistic.

Kerry reached out to me a few months ago after he had become a fan of my blog. He is currently writing his own book about what it takes as an autistic student to survive in the world of college academics.

While finishing his graduate work he also writes a weekly blog for AutismSpeaks and was recently a consultant on the just released, sure-to-be hit movie Joyful Noise starring Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah.

He is active in New Jersey with autism legislation where he routinely speaks to political and academic groups alike.

What Kerry has shown me are the intricate details and often arduous path growing up in a school system which does not “get it” exists. He and his parents were at the forefront of advocating for their son as they broke ground, stepped on toes and took on “the man” in order to make change happen. I am sure I could talk to Kerry for hours about this alone.

I look forward to working with Kerry going forward. We both have some similar goals and our mission is all about the same thing: education and advocacy.

THE SCARY GUY - I write this in all upper-case because that is how he writes and I don’t want to make him mad. Just kidding. Scary, it is his real name, is one of my newest friends and I am proud to introduce him to all of my friends and readers. He is an exceptional human being and is making a difference in our world, every day.
It has always amazed me how the crossroads of life has put certain people in my path over the last four years. Scary is no different. A friend felt this was someone I needed to meet…and it happened.

He talks so much about the “container” we all are. We come in different shapes, sizes and colors…and that’s the way it is supposed to be. When I recently told my good friend Matt about Scary what did he do? He googled him on his iPhone as we spoke. I had not told him anything about Scary, just that I came in touch with this gentleman and I liked very much what he was doing- I liked his mission. And then he said, “Uhmmm. Uh, Scott? What are you doing with this guy? Are you sure you want to have him be a part of what you are doing?” I love my friend Matt, but all he saw was the container.

Scary is all about ridding the world of violence, hatred, and prejudice and bullying. He is all about inclusion, embracing all our differences and a world where we are ALL different and we are killing ourselves over it (because you’re fat, gay, a geek or disabled etc).

Scary is an amazing story and very colorful, duh. Please check out Scary- www.thescaryguy.com and be prepared to look at yourself in the mirror. I love it.

These are just a few of the people who have touched me as I write my books. This post needed to be written. There will be a time and place to thank all the people who are part of my team for the book and I eagerly await that day. Look for my next story in the next week or so. I have it roughed out and just need to finish it.

Until then……… make a difference.

Do you Get It?

The Fight of The Irish

I tried sneaking into the room as stealthily as an old spy could muster (white-lie, I am not a spy, although it would be very cool). My destination was subterranean: the dark, cool and ever-musty basement. As luck would have it, the door, warped by that same humidity screeched and wailed as I pulled with all my might. Any chance of slipping in unannounced vanished like smoke into the ether. How he stayed asleep I do not know. And it wasn’t his two dark eyes that greeted me, but Mason’s, the one year-old Australian Shepherd staring into my eyes as the credits rolled on the 32-inch in the corner.

There was an eerie glow left in the room coming off the screen as the Columbia Pictures logo flashed by and faded to black. With it went the fog of subtle light that was just touching the open rafters, giving it an almost eerie and gothic touch. For some odd reason I blindly fumbled for the remote where I last thought it should be. I knocked over a half-eaten bowl of Ramen noodles, always his favorite food. My hand came to rest in what I thought was a bowl of Rice Crispies only to trip over Mason who decided I needed help. I landed on the bed which, of course, was where Logan lay. And he still slept on. I did find the remote- in his lifeless, limp hand.

My eyes had by now adjusted enough to just make out the white digits on the remote as I, for some reason felt curious, the need to explore. Even though it was well after midnight on a school night, I wanted to see what movie he was watching. I know what you are thinking… why didn’t he just turn on a light. The light was near the door where I had come in and in my stubborn, male, too-lazy-to-make-the-effort mentality I thought no, that would be too easy. Have you ever been in that state of mind where you just don’t, for some inexplicable reason want to do the easy or logical thing? I could have but in my stupor it just made too much sense.

So I sat on the edge of my sons bed with the smell of sweet-sour milk and Ramen beef juice permeating my senses at the same time one of my Uggs got stuck to the floor- I don’t even want to know. But I got to satiate my appetite for the curious and see what was so intriguing to Logan at this late hour.

I had noticed for several months that his television was turned on, muted each time I snuck downstairs (I will often sneak through the pantry and slide past the water heater to peek through a cranny and spy on him. Why I didn’t do this tonight?… I was on a mission and I needed inside his chamber.) Many of the nights I thought I had heard voices from within his lair but until tonight I hadn’t a clue- they were always gone by the time I appeared.

After trying about every button on the remote I was finally able to locate the menu. I mashed the button to restart the movie. RUDY. He was watching Rudy. Most excellent. One of my all-time favorite flicks starring Sean Astin as the young Rudy Reutigger. The story of the blue-collar factory-working kid who knows that one day he will not only get in to his beloved Notre Dame but also don the helmet and pads to play football for the Fighting Irish… much to the annoyance and slight ridicule of his family and friends

It is a movie as much about perseverance as it is of the human spirit and intestinal fortitude of a kid facing a stacked deck. No one believed in him. No one supported him. It seemed like he even questioned his own higher power’s conviction. But in the end- he believed. Rudy believed in himself. He just knew. He fought and dug in and never gave in to the demons and the easy way out- not accepting what the cards said: you can’t do it, Rudy Reutigger.

Mysterious night-time curiosity quenched.

I shuffled to the door, only losing my balance one time on the errant drumstick left for me by the pile of dirty socks, a leftover Moon Pie and dirty running gear. I turned the light on and I looked at Logan, our youngest son. He didn’t stir. Mason sat on the big round yucky-nasty green chair and I swear he almost winked at me. He is such a sweetie. I tousled his hair, then Logan’s and said goodnight to the both of them. As I walked out I turned and lightly squeeged the door shut just enough to hold it and Mason in place for the night and I headed upstairs.

For the next week I saw the same thing- black screen, rolling credits, Mason sitting up in his canine throne while Logan snored softly, rattling the corner room we call his dungeon. I intended to ask him about his fascination with the film the following day.

He never really gave me a clear answer when I prompted him. He just loves the movie and he wants to go to Notre Dame. So I find out that my then 8th grader has already narrowed his college choices down to either the Naval Academy or Notre Dame. I am so very cool with that. My friend Coach Barry Switzer couldn’t get an inch out of him when urged by the icon and him going to OU. If Coach can’t talk a kid into looking into Oklahoma while standing on the fifty yard line after running out of the tunnel to greet Barry… I surely have no chance of getting it done.

Since that day a few years ago it has been nothing but gold, navy and green in our house and for Logan, now armed with the fact that the Irish offers Naval ROTC, it looks like Notre Dame. I now have about three years to take out a second mortgage, get another job and have Logan save a lotta-lot of allowance money to afford about 55k a year for tuition. I will settle for him sticking to getting the grades (pretty much straight A’s) and all the other extra-curricular activities (he even recently started back taking piano lessons): cross-country, marching band, track, honor-band, praise band, honor-choir, school play, Mini-Singers… all to set himself up for a healthy, pocketbook-saving and dad-happy scholarship.

Rudy, Rudy, Rudy… Something told me this would not be the last time I would here these three words…

It has now been two years and Rudy is still center-stage in the dungeon of Logan’s world. Just the other night I slipped downstairs before I finished packing (I had a business trip I was leaving for the next morning) to check on my Cool Breeze, Logan. Sure enough, there he was deep in sleep as the young Reutigger charged on to the field in the first, only and last game he would ever play in. I let the film play on as Mason licked my hand and I navigated the minefield (the floor) of Logan’s world. I wonder what Mason thinks of the movie as he has seen more of it awake than his master.

I woke up a few hours later with the sun still buried in the eastern sky. And I was jetting west to sunny California where it (the sun) is never gone for long. Off to another company sales meeting. Where we are virtual prisoners in a Marriott with the SoCal weather and all it offers just beyond our grasp.

I will never understand how for as many years that I have been in sales, the meetings are normally in wonderful digs but the amount of time we actual get out to enjoy it is enough time for about a cup a joe. The sunny breezy California seascape stands just outside our reach, luring us through the windows by the atrium, taunting us to come take a taste, skip the meeting. A cruel offering of something we normally can’t sample until well after the sun has disappeared.

But this meeting would be very different.

Sure, we would have the requisite things that go with a team meeting at a Marriott: hard candies, row after row of chairs, breakout rooms, and room temperature… think morgue cold (they believe it will keep you awake) and speaker after speaker. All scrunched in-between three hotel meals that would make Richard Simmons wag a finger.

The meeting begins. It is 7:30 A.M. Pacific time and I am wedged between two of my dear friends: Cindy on the left and Matt to my right. There are about 200 people jammed in to the Marriott Grand Ballroom for the opening ceremonies. The flashing lights and thumping bass of the jams blaring come to a slow fade. And then you hear from somewhere on stage- Rudy, Rudy, Rudy. Huh?

Rudy Reutigger stage right

Goose-bumps can not describe the feeling pulsing through my body. Each hair is on end as if a cool breeze is slipping across my skin. Even my bald head, the minute stubbles are at attention for the amazement I am experiencing. I am sure my eyes are dilated as much as my mouth is agape. This can not be happening. I am sitting about thirty feet from, Rudy Ruetigger; an idol (Logan’s) and virtual nightlight (the movie) in the dungeon.

Earlier the prior night I had shared with my friends all about Logan’s fascination with Rudy and his desire to go to Notre Dame. I made the comment that I had tremendous respect for Mr. Ruetigger and I went on and on about how his story really drove me to take everything I am doing regarding my book and advocacy to the limit. I laughed and said how cool it would be to get to meet him some day. To me Rudy is the epitome of perseverance. And here he stands before me.

I am stunned.

My friends are “Oh My Goshing” as I sit transfixed to the man on stage.

Matt says to me, “Are you believing this, Scott?” This is just plain weird.

The thunderous ovation and whoot-woos die down and Rudy launches in to his life with verve and vivid nuance yet, the movie, however amazing it was, could only scratch the surface of what he was sharing with us today.

We were under a spell. Not of an academy-award winning actor giving a masterful and kitschy acceptance speech but of a regular guy talking from deep in his his heart. Genuine, real, inviting and engaging- all words that just asked you into his world for a walk in his shoes. He spoke of about his life, his dreams, his mistakes, and his mission and how he welcomed it all in and made it work. It was genuine from word one. It was one of those times where I knew I was listening to someone who was good in their own skin.

A little more than halfway through his talk he showed a video. It spoke to me; so powerful that I now have a copy of it on my computer. You may have seen or read the parable but it goes something like this: The little green frog falls into a deep hole. Too deep for him to jump out of. All of the other frogs scream for him he can’t do it, its too deep, he’s toast, sorry but you’re on your own, buddy. They are all screaming different and conflicting directions but it looks quite the doomed situation. They continued yelling as they slowly turned to walk away. As they were giving up on the dead-frog-jumping the little critter tried one last leap. He reached down and he launched himself like a rocket… up and right out of the hole, over all the other frogs’ heads and into the soft green grass beyond them.

You see, the little green frog, what he thought… he thought all the other frogs were screaming for him and giving him words of encouragement and praise (“We know you can do it. Jump hard! You can do it! This is what he saw and heard). He just knew they had faith in the mighty little runt of a frog. He had no idea the others were telling him no and that they were ready to leave him for dead. Sad as it was, they knew the little hopper would die in that hole.

The little frog was deaf.

He did not hear the “no’s” but instead saw a group who was cheering and supporting and loving him. He saw his friends telling him “yes”- we believe in you, Frog.

The point was palpable, more words, extraneous. As Mr. Reutigger was nearing the end he changed gears and posed a question. “Was I in the movie, Rudy?” he barked.

“Why, yes! Yes you were”, I shot back to him.

“Where was I and what was I doing?” he countered.

“You were in the last scene of the movie sitting behind Ned Beatty, your on-screen father. All of you cheering as Sean Astin, playing you, charged down the field to make that last amazing tackle.”

...and to find out the conclusion... the other four pages of the story (the really cool and important parts), sorry, but it will of course be in the stores one day soon.

In The Beginning...

In The Beginning…

I would love to say that much has happened since the publication of the first book, but that hasn’t happened yet. I will instead let you know that now begins the second part of this journey. As we push ever-closer to publication it still shocks me to see everything which is occurring and revolving around this one book. I will get into the real meat of the post, In The Beginning, but first allow me to share a few housekeeping issues regarding what is going on, where I’m headed and my thoughts on moving forward.

I am still creating stories from the individual notes I jot down on my business cards. I find a few that seem to go together and then sit down at the computer, pound it out, hit spell-check and post it. What you then see on the blog is the extreme raw, abbreviated and uncut version of a story I want to tell. No revisions, no editing. It is still the same situation where I share a little bit about a few thoughts. This still kind of scares me since no one besides a handful of other people have actually seen the full stories and what will comprise the book. I really want to tell you that if you really liked the posts then you will be absolutely blown away by what is going to unfold in the book, but I won’t.

Of the 100 posts I completed in the first year or so I chose to write about 35 stories for the first book. A few of the actual chapters are ones where I found a few posts that may have been similar so I combined them. Of the remaining posts I have yet to use (about 40+/-) I have about 15 that I feel worthy of completing and placing in the next book. I also have about the same amount from newer ideas and notes.

I will not be writing as many posts running up to book two for various reasons. I wrote too much when I first started using the blog as a tool for my book. Writing weekly or more really took a toll on me and after stepping back I realized and thought about why I was writing and decided to slow down. But there is another reason. I want to share more of the personal and difficult things that go with living in a crazy family like I do. Please, if you know me you will understand that I use that description with total and complete humor and just a touch of literalness. Our family/life is a bit crazy.

I want to share more and I think after the first book makes it to market it will allow for me to show even more that up until now I have just not been comfortable writing about. I hope that makes sense.

The progress of the book is coming along with so many things happening at once. It kind of feels like a hundred-ton stone wheel. The kind you would see the cavemen rolling up a hill… taking a week to roll it ten feet… it is massive and ominous and it clips along at about a quarter inch a day. That is what the process feels like. So…so much happening all at once but some days I feel like we are going nowhere fast.

We have made incredible strides with the manuscript and I am confident and eagerly await the day it all comes together. With all I have said it has allowed me to see and feel that the energy is all there. All the rights pieces are happening and the critical mass is ready to come to fruition.I have goals and deadlines and assignments. Only now am I feeling and seeing the vast scope of things that goes into making a book. For a little over a year I have enlisted the help of an old friend to edit some of the early stuff and a new friend who has coached me and been an awesome mentor to me.

They have both been invaluable. I also have a mentor who in the literary world whom has opened my eyes to the task I have before me. I found out early on that writing a book… there could be no more a solitary and often lonely endeavor. But he has shown me how to put it together and get it working. Prior to meeting him I was on about a three month sojourn of sorts where I had no idea of which way my compass pointing. Actually it was spinning and I was struggling. I guess I never thought about what I would do once I was close to finishing the book. That was the fun part.

Writing the book, using the blog as a tool and interacting on the social networks has been meaningful, fun and useful… this was and still is so rewarding. Getting the book from “written” to the next steps ultimately being published is a crazy (there’s that word again) and daunting task. It feels very good to know I have people whom care about me, my stories and understand the “why” to what I am trying to do in the big picture of things.

Everybody on FaceBook, Twitter and all the other ways you have found my blog. I appreciate you all more than you know. The internet has made this something I can only imagine what would be without… horrible sentence, but I can make mistakes on the posts and I think you get what I was trying to say and I am too tired to fix it even though I just spent about 60 seconds writing this explaining it.

I hope my writing shares many things but more than any I want to let you know that my book is not and will not be a book about broken bones, a bad heart or autism. My book is about my son, his brother, my wife and me. The book is about our life where special needs and crazy things simply make for a very interesting backdrop. Sure, I talk plenty about those things but if you have read any of the posts you can see that I am trying to show that my family, living life on our life’s terms is what it is all about. All of the health issues make the stories I hope more real but how our life revolves, stumbles and gets up is the direction I am aiming for.

My book is a memoir. It is about how “I” see the things I am sharing with the world. Some or many of the things may not make sense to a loved one or close friend. That is fine. I don’t think a memoir could ever be told the same way by two different people. Teresa and I have gone back and forth on so many points in my posts. Not about the veracity of a particular part but she many times saw different or subtle elements that were just different than what I recalled. Often this did not matter since the bigger picture, the sentiment trumped any detail like her saying the day was cloudy and I thought it was sunny. It just didn’t matter.

Since starting my book I have read many, many memoirs and non-fiction books. I have always been a veracious reader but after turning on to memoirs it has really helped me with some finer points and direction of what I am trying to accomplish from a literary perspective. For example, I now know that there is so much material in the world to write about. In fact, last week I tuned in to 60 Minutes to see the farewell to Andy Rooney and he said something that really gave me a shot in the arm. He essentially said that with the world we live in today if you can’t write a book or an article then you are in the wrong business. His point (what I took away) is that our world is full of material and stories only waiting to be told.

So I feel I have a story and I am going to continue to tell it.

I have come to an abrupt end. I am tired and I completed what I had on my list of to-dos for my book today. I did not, and I am sorry, get to go into the post- In The Beginning, but I will do that very, very soon, as in… a day or two…promise (pinky-promise). Jk

You will want to tune in though. I want to tell you a story about Teresa and me and how it all started. I guarantee it will be worth the wait. It is a funny tale and totally pertinent to my writing. It really will show you how in light of all I have written over the last 18 months… it all started the day we met (our crazy life) and has not once relented.

I will leave you with this thought, er, image I mean. It is a story which is best left for Teresa since she so relishes telling it. I first met her in a men’s clothing store where she happened to be the manager. She tried selling me a very ugly pea-green sport coat and she thought I was gay…

I told you I was going to get more personal. And I will. And I will do this out of my desire to show you the funniest and gruelingest things I believe will give you an even deeper look into a family that is trying every day to persevere and keep the faith.

We Are All Autistic

I believe we are all autistic. It is a fact which I can prove, kinda. With all my heart I know this is true, sorta. It is a very easy hypothesis to prove, I think.

What is autism? I know there are the three classic variables that are always in the literature and accepted as a given when describing autism: social cues, verbal cues and physical cues. But in the grand scheme of things this means everything and very little at the same time. This exists because of the vast gray area which is present and in between the cracks permeating the somewhat subjective and evolving spectrum we know as Autism.

Problems with socialization. Issues with the use of verbal skills. Maybe you walk funny or have a peculiar habit everybody knows about. These are all signs present in any autistic person. But for the person reading this whom is not on the spectrum, do you demonstrate any, some or all of these cues? Think about it. I do. Am I autistic? I don’t know.

I am always thinking of the what’s and why’s of autism and our eldest son, Austin. I know that Austin’s wiring is just different than mine or yours. I also see that as being simply “different”, not wrong or abnormal. I have found an analogy which I hope can illustrate my thoughts on this- a 56’ Chevy.

1956 Chevrolet Bel Air in particular. This is my dream car. Turquoise with pearl white panels, Cragar wheels, Hurst shifter and a ton of chrome. I don’t know a lick about cars but I know those are some of the things I want my 56’ to sport. One day it will be mine. What does a Chevy have to do with my son’s brain? You shall see.

Locally there is a classic car club called Classy Chassis which has been in existence for many years. I know many of the members very well and they have all shared their love of the cars with me and also the frustrations of owning, loving and maintaining a classic piece of Detroit steel.

What is it that frustrates them so? All classic cars have their own peculiar and unique quirks. A radio that comes on when it wants to or a sequence of three pumps on the gas and a wiggle of the key to get it to turn over. Maybe it’s a finicky carburetor that never stays in tune and has to be babied with the tenderest of kid gloves. But what do these avid enthusiasts do? They pour countless dollars, time and tender-loving care in to their babies because they are just that, their babies and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Would the car aficionado get rid of the beloved Ford Coupe because of some quirk or mysterious trait? I think unlikely. Maybe, but I think many of them take the peccadilloes and sometimes frustrating hiccups and live with them, if not embrace, at least tolerate them as this is their one and only true classic car, their baby. The character enhanced by such flaws only makes the beast a more special and rich entity.

What does this have to do with autism and my son, Austin? A great deal actually. Lately I have been thinking of Austin as that mythical 56’ I so want one day. Just as the classic car may have a particular foible which leaves the homegrown mechanic scratching his head, I too scratch my head at the things which are shown to me via Austin, right in my face yet I have know idea what it means or if I can even fix it.

Should the car be put into the crusher because you have to hit the dash for the air-conditioner to come on? No. So do I have to fix Austin because he has to act like a raging steam locomotive every morning he wakes up? Of course not. Just as the car has it quirks, so does Austin and other autistic’s just like him. They are different, not wrong or bad, broken or abnormal. Just different.

Indeed, Austin’s tics, taps, quirks and rituals are unique and truly unto himself. Today they are much of what makes up who he is.

Should we try and fix him? If so then I think there are many of us who also need a little further examination and introspection. Don’t we all have odd things, particular quirks which you have and don’t think anyone else knows about? It could be the smallest of tics to something as significant as an addiction. Are these not social and maybe even verbal cues? Maybe they even morph into physical cues at times.

I know I have always had a fascination with equilibrium. Even numbers, not the odds, but evens confound me. If I tap my toes on my right foot twice…I must equal it out by tapping my left foot toes an equal amount. I always put my left shoe and left pant leg on first, but my right arm goes into a shirt before the other, no question. If I forget my watch, wallet or rings, I must turn the car around and retrieve them. My day will not be right if I don’t have all of them, each in the proper place on me. I don’t feel equal, balanced. That whole equilibrium thing. But it has to happen of it really puts a damper on my day…I can just feel it.

What are some of the things you do which are odd? Are they just odd or do they make you different? Are they things which people notice and talk about? Probably sometimes but what I am really trying to say? Am I trying to equate ones own mannerisms, odd behaviors and quirks to being autistic. Not really. I don’t think because we all have these often times silly things we do qualifies us all for an autism diagnosis. What I do see however is that we are all different! And we should be. How boring would the world be if we were the same?

We are all different!

And like the Chevy, and Austin’s little things he does…they are just that, little things. Like when he eats, he hums and very noticeably grunts. I don’t think he even knows he is doing it and I know for sure that we all don’t really notice it anymore.

Now when a Chevy blows a cylinder or drops a tranny there is a big fix in store for the vehicle. Just like with Austin, when he has a meltdown or goes through a period of extreme behavior change, we look to our team of doctors and experts to help us get back on track. But we don’t take him, like the worn out and broken car to the crusher after giving up on him.

There are times where things are so troubling, we don’t know what to do yet we move forward. We search. We pray and we try new and different things to see what happens and what works. Many times I watch as my father breaks down crying wishing he could takes Austin’s place. It breaks my heart to watch this but we do not want nor expect pity. He is our son and the only thing he is is different.

Just like you or me.

We are all different and I don’t believe a fix or cure will be available for autism in the near future. I don’t begrudge those in search of answers and clues to what this baffling condition is we know as autism. But for sure I think the one thing I will continue to do is continue to integrate my son to every and all things mainstream. To expose him to all things we see as routine and normal (however much I despise this word).

I recently saw an article while sifting through a unique autism website called Rethinking Autism. The article was written by a gentleman by the name of Marc Rosen to the attention of Autism Speaks. While I don’t embrace every word or every thought in the writing I don’t take lightly what the overall theme he is trying to convey. Here are the words:

---To Autism Speaks:

""You say “We have to find a cure!”
A cure? For what?

Is it a cure for who I am?
My personality?
My hopes?
My dreams?
My passions?

Is it a cure for what I am?
My intelligence?
My wit?
My charm?
My sarcasm?

Is it a cure for what I can be?
My ambitions?
My interests?
My perseverance?
My goals?

If not any of those, then what do you hate?
Is it because you hate my differences?
My beliefs?
My morals?
My ethics?
My strength?

Is it because you hate that I’m not you?
Is my difference such a crime that it must be destroyed?

Better yet, can you tell me WHY?
Why do you hate me?
Why can’t I exist as I am?
Why do you have to “cure” my healthy mind?
Why do you have to treat me as inhuman?

Who are you trying to help?
Is it the fetus you screen out and abort for having the wrong genes?
Is it the child you yell at for being “wrong” in ways he‘ll never understand?
Is it the adult you allow to die through your silence?
Is it the hole in your heart which you stain with your cruelty?

Do you blame a vaccine for my existence?
Am I some freak of science who has no right to exist?
Am I nothing more than the shadow of your own twisted heart?
Do I only exist to remind you that you can’t live your life through mine?
Do I hold any value to you other than as a symbol of all you hate?

Or is it just that you fear that you are one of my brethren?
That the very things you have spoken of as filth and disease,
Could actually hold purpose, value, and worth?
Would I then be nothing more than your horrifying fun-house mirror?

These questions I pose to you, oh all-knowing “normal” people
You say you speak for me, so why not give me some answers?"" END QUOTE---

While I don’t care for a few of the references I think the sentiment regarding a person and there ability to be just like me or you or anyone else is what I embrace.

As I have said before when referencing Temple Grandin, I embrace many of the stances she takes on autism. I think there are many things we can help the autistic person with, but as for a cure…I will leave that up to those whom choose to search for it.

Like Miss Grandin, I have embraced the neuro-diverse thought on autism and those living with it- that they are simply different, embrace the pseson. Their wiring and plumbing may be tweeked a bit and the way my son perceives and processes things may also be different but in the end it’s just another matter of a person getting to the same endpoint albeit in a slightly different manner.

So for now we will encourage our son to be the boy, young man he is becoming. We will always push for him to be in as many activities and environments in the mainstream of society. He can do anything you or I can. He just does it differently. But don’t we all?

I can’t wait til the day I get my 56’. Until that day I will keep tinkering and working on trying to understand my son. He does have a finicky carburetor (his stomach’s appetite for fuel- food) and a valve (his mouth- which doesn’t stop) that sticks quite a bit. But I think we will keep him.

For now, Austin is my 56’. He has all the bells and whistles like the car. And he has more chrome and bling than any classic should be allowed- his smile, his hats, his hugs and the way he lights up any room. And yes, like the car he has his quirks. And we love em all…, usually.

Austin doesn’t need to be fixed. Just understood and embraced.

Good day.

The Coach Gets It

I was working at the Great Oklahoma Territry restaurant, or GOT’s to the locals in Norman, Oklahoma, one sticky summer night in 1986. I really enjoyed working there because the college students, like me, couldn't afford it, which meant I wouldn’t be getting typical student tips matching typical student budgets. The eatery was an older steakhouse with a lot of oilies (Oklahoma oil business men), university coaches and local middle-aged folks who liked a good steak and a somewhat cheesy dance floor (real, functional disco-ball) on the weekends.

I waited on tables, made great tips and got to see and meet some really interesting people. I thought I was a pretty good waiter, but I never imagined the surprise I was in for that night. Actually, I am not sure one particular customer was ready for what I was about to drop on him.

I got to work that day after my last class and was soaked through my shirt by the time I wheeled my trusty Cannondale mountain-bike into the parking lot. It was hot! I walked in that afternoon and was surprised to see, at 4:30, several tables were already seated with customers.

I shot past Cameron, our Iraqi-born chef and all-around hilarious guy who kept the place sane. I strapped on an apron. Nodded to Mickey and Dennis, two of my buddies and co-workers and sauntered over to my first table. I waited on the couple, getting them set up quickly with drinks and appetizers. Before putting there order in to the kitchen I paused and took a big breath- we’re already slammed, but I can do this.

I turned around to meet my next guests, all twenty of them. I was shaking as I asked them if they would hold on a minute while I arranged a few tables to accommodate their large group.

I was still pretty new to working in a restaurant, so getting hit with a big group, right after coming in certainly presented me a challenge. I fumbled and stumbled, but managed to get eight tables arranged to seat what had now grown to more than 20 people. It was now only me standing in the way of these people and their first drink. I could feel all 40 eyes on me as I started to sweat, again, in the cool air-conditioned room.

I walked to the head of the table. Every word was stuck in my throat. I only remember hearing something about water so I stumbled some more, mumbled something even I didn’t understand and ran for the wait station to get water, anything to give me a moment to get my bearings before I dove back in.

I balanced a pitcher of iced water on my tray as sharp cool drops sloshed over the edges and down my arm. I added as many glasses I could manage and headed back to the head of the table.

And then everything got very cold.

The frosty pitcher of water tilted on edge as an over-eager Boz grabbed a stack of glasses from the tray, upsetting the balance, sending the mass of ice and water with cannonball force, onto Coach Switzer.

Coach Barry Switzer, that is.

The legendary, Hall of Fame college football coach; Super Bowl winning leader of the Dallas Cowboys; Special Olympics champion, Fox Sports analyst and one of my Saturday afternoon heroes…Oh…My…Gosh!!! What did I just do? Time stood still.

Like the icy mess which was just deposited onto the coach’s lap- I too, was frozen. I am sure my mouth was open with my jaw firmly on the floor, dripping tray held high.

Coach was a frequent guest at GOT’s as were the coaching staff who were present that day. Several marquee players from the team also got to witness my performance but I was too afraid to look up and see how they scored it or note their reactions.

“What’s you name son?” Is all I heard, breaking the ice- pun intended. “Well, Scott, it is about a hundred outside and I was quite uncomfortable anyway. It’s only water. So what’s on for specials tonight?” He wasn’t fazed by what had happened, in fact, he was laughing at, with, me. I think he was more concerned about me feeling bad, scared and whatever else the look on my face was projecting.

This was my introduction to a hero, a legend, a rockstar, Barry Switzer, for the first time, and that blunder was how I said hello….

Fast forward twenty three years to December, 2010, about a week before Christmas.

After picking up the phone, these are the words I hear, “Is Scott there? “Hi, this is Scott, what’s up?” I shoot back. “Scott, this is Coach Switzer. How are you?” I am not sure what he thought the crashing noise was on his end of the phone, but I know I wasn’t telling him it was the phone slipping from my hand and smashing onto the hardwoods. My second introduction wasn’t much smoother.

“Scott, my wife and I read your blog. We were moved. It was very touching and I “get it” Scott. Three simple words. I get it. So simple, yet he couldn’t have uttered a more profound trio of words. I will later explain what the significance of this all means but before I do that I will finish that call.

Knowing how much he is involved with the Special Olympics I wasn’t all that surprised for him to have interest in our story. What did knock me out of my socks was just getting the call. I get a call from a celebrity/sports icon who wants to speak with me about our son, a book I am writing, and he is curious about my goals and vision wasn’t something I was sitting by the phone waiting for.

Another jump forward to March, 2011 in Norman, Oklahoma. We were sitting at a table at Charleston’s waiting on Coach to join us for lunch. He arrived fifteen minutes later with his trademark smile. There were no flashing lights of neon or stars exploding overhead announcing a superstar. Just a guy wearing blue jeans, a plain blue t-shirt… and that grin. The smile just puts you at ease and as he walked over to us he immediately keyed in on the boys and plopped himself down next to Austin and held out his hand.

“Hi Austin, I’m Coach Switzer. It’s so good to finally meet you and Logan and you too mom and dad.” And that’s how it began.

“That’s a cool ring, can I have it?” He slides off the gold boulder of a ring and tosses it to Austin- tumbling and bouncing across the table top. Austin slowly reads the words on the ring asking us what Super Bowl Champion means. For the next fifteen minutes, Austin and the coach arrange a black napkin as a backdrop so Austin can get the best possible lighting for the picture he is trying to capture on his camera of the ring. I’m not sure which one of them had more fun, but it was hilarious watching the two of them carry on like long lost school chums.

He then asked Teresa where she grew up. She responded, “The South. Kings Mountain, North Carolina.” To which he replied, “Darlin, that is not the South. I think I need to educate your wife on where the true South is.” By that he meant his home state of Arkansas.

We ordered lunch and Austin convinced coach to get the okra with his pork sandwich, but told him the sprouts were just weeds and didn’t belong on a plate of good food. Austin got the burger with okra and extra ranch dressing. Every time Austin looked away, Barry would dip his okra into Austin’s’ ranch dressing and shoot me that grin. It was hilarious. But then he got busted. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Austin snapped. “I’m just following your lead Austin. Ranch goes great with okra and I didn’t get any so…” he chuckled.

Our original plan for a cup of coffee turned into lunch which turned into a marathon food fest. He looked at his watch, realized the time and since we had been long done with the food had to get to an appt he was already late for.

As we were hurrying out he turned to me, “We didn’t get to do any fun stuff. Do you know where I live?” Uh, yea. Of course I know where you live, I thought. Everybody knows where the Coach lives. “Okay. Be there first thing in the morning and we’ll see what we can come up with.”

We pulled in to the Switzer residence at about 9 A.M. and before the car came to a stop Austin bolted from the car, picked up the newspaper lying on the driveway and crashed through the front doors. All I heard was Austin and what I assumed was the Coach, laughing at the tops of their lungs. So Austin made his entrance one which when I think about it is not all that uncommon. He just wanted everyone to know, “It’s me! I’m here! The party can begin.”

We followed Austin’s entrance with a non-ceremonial walk through the front door only to be met by the two of them, waiting, now with two big grins, like we were late to the party.

(This is the first half of the chapter. The second half will go on to show you why and how Coach knows and "gets" kids like Austin.) So proud to call him a friend of the family.