My mother (who reads the obits every day... discovered that John Henry
a "roommate" of my father
died.
We haven't seen him around the care facility for several weeks
and I guess he must have been sick.
I would like to dedicate this blog to him
my idea is to relate all the stories
I have where he is included.
I've been wanting to speak more about the people who stay at the same facility as Dad
and now I have this opportunity
JOHN HENRY
The first time I met John Henry he sat beside my father and smiled warmly at me.
He told me this:
" I'm sorry. I was only trying to do the right thing and I have failed."
"What?" I wasn't very surprised that he was talking to me. Many of the patients talk to people they don't know.
"I am not doing very well. I often get it wrong."
He had a british accent. This surprised me. What is the story of a man with a british accent who has ended up in an Alzheimer care facility in NJ? I wanted to know.
"You've done nothing wrong." I said. He smiled. "I'm Kevin." And I offered my hand.
"John Henry" uttered so Britishly that I had visions of the Queen and Doctor Who and Merchant Ivory all at once.
He told me (in a ever increasingly larger spiral) that he had joined the British navy at the end of WWII. They were offering scholarships for a two year posting. He smiled impishly when he described how he made his decision to join the navy and not another branch of the army. Apparently it was a clever thing to do but I never understood why. After the war he obtained his degree in engineering at Nottingham university...
"Nottingham is of course the land of Robin Hood... you may have heard?"
He would then return to the beginning of his story and retell me all over again. But he did it in such a way that I didn't realize he was retelling me everything. It was the same information but described so differently it felt as if he were a new person altogether. I didn't get bored... but I was anxious... I wanted to know how he came to the USA... how he was here in this room next to my father.
"How did you get here?" I would sometimes ask him when I couldn't stand the anticipation any longer.
"Well that, "The clever smile again, "That is a story" (The emphasis on IS so so british) "At the end of the war I decided to join up...."
The story would often be interrupted. Perhaps John Henry would drop his empty plastic cup. I would reach down to retrieve it for him.
"Oh I am sorry," He'd say, "I don't mean to be such a burden."
"No... no. You are not a burden. You were telling me how you got to NJ..."
"Well.... It was toward the end of the war. Young men were going to fight... and I decided....."
I never heard more from him about his life. To this day I am not certain whether he was actually British or not. Sometimes patients with Alzheimer disease adopt a certain persona. But even that idea intrigued me.
There is more about John Henry but I think Ill leave it til tomorrow.
Just a quick note on other happenings.
I did one of the first "manly" things I've done in my life this week.
I had to put together a dog kennel for Bubble.
This was not easy. It involved digging several 30 inch holes in solid dry dirt that had formed into a sort of rockish texture. Each hole took me about 5 hours to dig. The kennel is up now and I felt that certain kind of satisfaction that comes with being the one (whether you are a man or a woman" who has to take on the role of "Dad" and get the job done.... very fulfilling.
Hurricane Earl is on it's way toward the Jersey coast. I am just waiting for the winds to arrive and blow some trees onto my newly erected dog kennel.
My favorite chef on Bravos Top Chef D.C. was eliminated this week. Her name was Tiffany.
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