Tuesday, 27 December 2011


Have you ever given someone a gift that meant immeasurably more to that person than you ever expected it would? Though it eventually broke, the Christmas gift that my dad gave me in 1966 touched me deeply. This man, usually at the bar with his buddies, showed at least some recognition of how much I yearned to be with him. Perhaps he, in his sober moments, realized the bond all boys feel with their fathers.

This short excerpt from Deliverance from Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) is one of many which demonstrated how deeply those rare acts of kindness from Dad touched me.


I associated Volkswagens with my father because he had always driven that make of vehicle. Even though he was an alcoholic, I felt great affection for him. Consequently, when I opened my gifts on Christmas morning, I was delighted to find a battery-powered metallic brown toy Volkswagen.

"I would have given you a blue one but the store didn't have that colour," Dad informed me. Though it was brown, I treasured that toy.


Deliverance from Jericho is filled with many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Read more about Deliverance from Jericho here. Please feel free to contact me directly as well.