Losing our naivety at K-mart

I live in the country, about 20 miles from the nearest town. The town was in the beginning stages of growth and rumor had it that it would soon have a K-mart. Wow - a real honest-to-goodness K-mart! After the store opened it became a favorite destination to shop. As I have said before, we lived paycheck-to-paycheck (of course we did - we had 4 kids!). A little money and a store that had a bit of everything - an irresistible combination. Our kids loved shopping - mostly because it was such a rare event. While we shopped for what was needed, the kids would explore the toy section and the videos. Someone was always with Matt - no shopping alone, ever. Matt would go with his siblings or wander with us.

When all the kids were young we shopped the toy department with them. The problem here was that we fell into a routine. Whenever we made the trip to K-mart, the kids got something (usually a cheap toy or video). Routines were mentally and physically hard to break. On the occasional breakdown of routine we had to deal with the inevitable sorrow and protests from Matt. Our lives had been built on routines.

One fateful day we broke a routine and our view of the world changed forever. It happened at K-mart.

We needed some item - my memory fails me as to what exactly this necessary item was - and we needed to stop at K-mart. It was to be a short stop, no money for books, toys or videos. Just run in and run out. We knew we would most likely see tears from Matt - he expected something to be bought for him - but we just didn't have the funds. We had given warning to all the children that we just could not afford to buy anything extra (was it before a payday?). The kids understood - they had been told this type of thing before. We allowed them to look and explore the toy department while we ran to get the necessary item.

We were back to the toy department in less than 5 minutes. K-mart did not have the necessary item and we needed to look elsewhere. Matt had already grabbed a toy off the shelf. I countered, " not today" and put it back. Was it a truck? I forget. What I do remember was that it was outrageously expensive and there was no possible way we could buy it.

Matt promptly laid down on the floor. In the 60s, this was a popular method of protest. Trying to stop some type of action by others, a group of young college students would lay down on the ground and refuse to move. So it was with Matt. He refused to move and the protest had begun.

A bit of context is needed here. Matt was 6 years old. His vocabulary was improving everyday but his speech was confined to echolalia, a type of speech pattern where he echoes back what he has heard. Sometimes he echoed his cartoons, most times he echoed what someone had just spoken to him. His ability to express himself was still very limited, and he used phrases or words that seem to qualify for the emotions he felt. He did not fully understand the majority of words he spoke.

Back to the story. Tom picked Matt up squirming and fighting. We were at K-mart. K-mart meant toys. His toy was being left behind. What did we think we were doing? The protest intensified. Tom put Matt over his shoulder and we headed for the nearest exit. To our surprise, Matt yelled out, "Help me! Please, somebody help me!" interspersed the cries of "NO!". The store was filled with people (after all, K-mart was the new place to shop) and all of them looked our direction, some with disgust on their face, some with worried expressions. Matt repeated his plea several times. yet, no one came to his rescue. No one inquired as to the problem. Not a security guard, not an employee, not a concerned citizen. No one.

Let that sink in a moment . . . .

We made it back to the car and tried to sooth Matt's feelings by promising him a return trip on payday (and promises HAD to be kept). Slowly Matt settled down, but it was a nerve-wracking trip back home. What ever that necessary item was, we evidently didn't need it that bad.

Tom and I were in shock. We were aghast! No one had attempted an inquiry, or even better, a rescue. What if we were strangers abducting this child? What if we were child molesters, or the sellers of children on the black market? What if we were deranged people looking to murder an innocent child? Unspeakable thoughts were whirling around in our minds at unbelievable speed. Anyone, and I mean anyone, could grab a child from the toy department. Reality was sinking in - and it was all so overwhelming.

We realized that the world doesn't work the way we thought. Children are at risk, even in plain view of others. Vigilance on our part became THE top priority. No more leaving Matt with his siblings to explore the toy department. No going into the men's bathroom alone, no leaving him with siblings to go the ladies bathroom - he would have to come along. Our lives changed that day. It was a wake-up call to just how vulnerable an autistic child is to the creeps out there. He couldn't fight back, he couldn't explain who he was or even give an address if someone did come to his rescue. If he got lost, he would not be able to ask for help. If he cried and pleaded, no one would care.

Routines changed. The frost on the back door that had been the writing pad for learning about family and home items became a teaching moment for address and phone number, address and phone number, address and phone number. We taught him the names of roads close to home, the number for the police, the phone numbers for our places of employment. We practiced him saying his name, his age, and the phrase, "I am autistic". The veil of security had been raised and we were on a new mission.

It may seem as if we were too naive. But this was the early 1990s. We believed people were basically good, that lost children were found, that abductions were rare, and that they only occurred in the big city. It was also a time when autism was considered rare and the majority of country had no clue as to what that word even meant. There was no support group, no other parents to share ideas with. No real Internet (not like today's Internet). We were learning the hard way - by experience.

Talk about modifying behavior! No one's behavior was modified more than that of our family's. We shed our naivety and became more vigilant, protective and more observant of our surroundings. Our other children became the officers of our family security force. Everyone played a role.

To this day all of our children are protective of Matt. All of them would step-in in a heartbeat if they felt Matt was in any danger - from any source, be it physical danger or verbal assault. I could never have imagined the benefits from that single event. But I look back on it now and see that it was truly the start of a sibling bonding process that now is a source of great pride for Tom and me. Even our kids' friends became an extended arm of security. Now, we don't worry as much. We know our kids, our relatives, and our friends would all step in.

No one messes with Matt - no one.