Falling Down (Ch. 1) - Randy Halprin
Randy Halprin
"We tend to see a person in the moment, not as the journey they travelled to get here." Kat Lehmann
Memoirs
FALLING DOWN : PART ONE (1995)
Chapter 1
(by Randy E. Halprin)
A Memoir
After a long and stressful year, I returned home from boarding school. I would only be home for a couple of weeks as I was due to return to summer school which would push me a little further ahead in my class credits. I'd been spending my 9th and 10th grade years taking extra classes and summer school, so that I could graduate with my natural graduation class. I'd failed the 7th grade back in Texas (which was the main reason I was going to school in Kentucky in the first place) but I busted my butt, and by the end of my sophomore year I had earned enough credits to skip my junior altogether, and was back on the path to graduate in 1996.
The end of 1994 and the first half of 1995 had been an emotional roller coaster: I had broken up with the first girl I had ever had sex with, fallen in love with another girl, began to experiment with drugs, had a crisis and confusion of faith, tension with my father, and was confused about everything! I really needed this two week break.
One of the great joys of returning home from school was entering our house in Arlington, Texas, and having my little brothers tackle me and hang onto my legs as I walked to our kitchen. I'd settle in and then late at night, my brother Jimmy would sneak into my room and crawl into bed with me. As the big brother, nothing made me feel better. I was really happy that I was back home.
The school break actually started out fine. I didn't have any friends to hang out with because time away in Kentucky - and being teens - caused us to drift apart. My best friend, Chad, with whom I had spent most of my childhood growing up and hanging out with, had moved away to Alabama with his family, so on breaks at home I'd spend the days swimming in our back yard pool, playing with my little brothers, or just watching tv. At night I would call my girlfriend up or sneak off to the side of the house and siphon freon from one of the big air conditioning units, and huff until I would pass out...And sometimes I would just guzzle a bottle of cough syrup to get a cheap high. My parents were clueless about my drug use, and I tried to keep it that way.
Things were already tense with me and my dad because earlier that year the school called him to let him know that I showed an interest in becoming a Christian. At the time, I had just come home and we discussed things; I remember it being a stressful conversation and I felt very ashamed about being so confused about my faith. Being Jewish was an integral part of our relationship...From attending services together (often just he and I) to my Bar-Mitzvah and Hebrew studies, he was there for all of it, and so I felt like I was somehow letting him down. To add further hurt to the situation, I was afraid to tell him how confused I was after the school had promised him they would never force or pressure me into converting. And whilst I was never 'forced', I was badgered day in and day out about 'why' I was Jewish, or if I knew I was going to hell unless I accepted 'Christ', and how could the Jews kill Jesus??? Every single day! I knew if I told my dad that he wouldn't believe me; he had accepted the school's promise, and thought I was just looking for a way of coming back home.
When my dad had a heart attack shortly after spring break 1995, when I was back at school, I felt it was my fault and yet I chose to distance myself from it emotionally and not give it much attention. I think that hurt my dad, but the truth is that I blamed myself and it just added to my confusion.
One day during summer break, Wesley and I had decided to go hang out at the mall, which was about a mile away. I had a learners permit to drive, but couldn't without adult supervision, so I asked my dad if he'd drop us off for the day. He said, “No”, so we just decided to take bicycles instead. The only problem was that Wesley had a bike and I didn't. Mine had been stolen about a year earlier when I left it in the front yard of my best friend's house, and he forgot to put it in the garage. There was, however, my dad's old Schwinn bicycle that looked like it hadn't been ridden since the 1970s...I know I'd never seen my dad on it, so I thought, “What the heck? I'll fill up the tires and see if the air holds and if it does, we're off!” I wiped off all of the dust and cobwebs, filled the tires up with air and bounced the bike up and down; it seemed to be holding up, so I told my brother we were going!
We headed back home after spending the entire day at the mall, and as the sun was setting I wondered what mom and dad would say about us going to the mall when dad said “no”...I remember thinking, “Oh, they'll get over it.”
We raced each other part of the way home and then swerved into the driveway. There was an electronic key pad on the side of the garage door so I punched in the code, and after the door was up we placed our bikes inside and went into the house.
I was a bit nervous about what my parents' reaction would be, but to my surprise, they didn't say anything. As I was walking to my room, mom asked how our day was and did we have a good time...I admitted that I took Wesley to the mall, and I remember dad saying something like, “At least you boys got home early.” There was a slight pause, and almost as an after thought he added, “How did y'all get there?”, and Wesley told him we took our bikes.
Dad looked at me a little puzzled, I think he thought that maybe I took the scooter, which was forbidden for me to ride after I had gotten in so many wrecks on it. “You don't have a bike,” he stated.
“I just took yours...The yellow one,” I replied. My dad's face tightened, and I could see he was upset.
“Who did you ask if you could ride it?” He asked.
“Nobody...I just figured I could because you never do.”
“You didn't ask me.”
“Okay...didn't ask you? It's been collecting dust since the '70s!”
Dad looked at my mom and she just shrugged her shoulders as if to say she was staying out of this one.
“It doesn't matter if I ride it or not,” he said angrily. “It belongs to me. You know to ask when you're going to use something that belongs to me.”
“Yeah...Okay, dad.”
I was digging my heels in for the coming fight because I felt like he was deliberately picking one, and I refused to back down this time.
“Well,” he said...”You're grounded. No car, no going out until I decide you can, and until I get an apology.”
“I didn't even do anything!”
“The conversation is over, Randy. Go to your room.”
“Man, this is BS...This is my freakin' summer break!” I yelled. And before stomping off to my room I added, “You know this isn't fair!”
“Life isn't fair,” he replied...One of my dad's favourite things to say.
I went to my room, turned on my stereo, and jammed out until my parents were asleep. Then I picked up the phone and called my girlfriend. I told her what was going on and she thought I had just blown her off for the day because she called earlier when I was out at the mall. “They never said you called,” I told her. And that just made me angrier.
The conversation went on into the early hours of the morning, and the next day my arguing with dad continued. He told me that I was going to be helping him build some tables in the garage, for part of a contract he had with the US Postal Service. I really felt like my summer break had been ruined, and I was steaming! Being the impulsive person I was, a small plan began to develop in my head to 'reclaim' my summer...I loved my dad to pieces, but I was letting this stupid fight get the better of me, and neither of us was going to capitulate or give ground. So, I felt that the best thing for me to do was just leave.
I called my girlfriend up that night and told her my plan. I don't think she took me all that seriously, but she sadly underestimated my own impulsive stupidity...She didn't talk me out of it so I took it as a 'green light'. I asked if she would call our friend, Travis, who also lived in Louisville, Kentucky, and see if I could stay at his place. She told me she'd check on it but asked how I would be able to afford the travel. I lied, and told her I had some money saved up...However, she did ask a valid question and I wondered how in the world I was going to pay for the trip and stay in Louisville for a whole week until I returned to school?
I called up the Grey Hound Bus Station to see what a one way trip to Louisville would cost, and I was told it would be over $100...A hundred dollars plus? I think I had like ten bucks! I panicked a bit and thought that maybe I should call this whole thing off. Then an idea flashed in my mind, and I pushed it out...It popped back up and I wrestled with it, but soon found myself in my dad's office holding his business cheques. I forged a $200 cheque, and hid it under my pillow.
I spent the next day or two helping my dad build his tables, but we still didn't talk much. Neither of us were budging, and it only cemented my idea of leaving. A part of me wanted to call it off, wanted to just say, “I'm sorry, dad.” But another part of me was like, “Fuck that...You're your own person and it's time to stand up”. My mind was made up: I would be spending the rest of my summer break with my girlfriend...I was going to Louisville!
Right before I left I had my wisdom teeth removed, and whilst I was in some minor discomfort, I just popped the prescribed codeine pills like candy, and I was good to go. I packed up everything I would be taking back to school with me. I had no intention of skipping out on school...I just wanted to be away from home. I wrote a short note to my parents explaining where I was going, what I would be doing, and asking them not to worry. I wasn't 'running away' or skipping school, I just needed to get away for a while. I honestly always believed that if I ever did run away I could come back home because when I was 10 or 11 years old, I remember getting into a fight with my parents and saying, “I'm running away!” I walked out the door and up the street...Then, turned right back round and went home. When my parents saw me my dad said, “You weren't gone for long.” I said I was sorry and they both said to me that if I ever left home, they'd always take me back if I came home.
I went to the garage and grabbed my brother's bicycle to ride to the bank and cash the cheque I forged. My fate was sealed! I put the $200 in my pocket, and on the way back I stopped off at a gas station to buy some hubba bubba bubble gum I promised to get for my little brothers, days before. When I got home dad was out on a business errand, and Wesley was playing Nintendo with my little brothers. Mom was in the kitchen cleaning...Just another normal day.
I went to Wesley and told him I needed to talk to him for a second, and I explained everything to him about me leaving. I gave him the note I had written to my parents, with explicit instructions to not give it to them until I was gone. I wasn't sure if I could trust him because my brother was notorious for snitching me off for far more trivial things, and I often wonder if I subconsciously gave him the note because I wanted him to tell my parents so they could stop me...Maybe.
He said he would do as I asked, so I went and grabbed the phone to call my girlfriend and tell her I was leaving that night. Did she get a hold of Travis? “No, but I'm still trying...”
In the meantime, dad came home and started preparing dinner. We all ate and I helped clear the table when we were done. I hugged my little brothers tightly and told them, “I know you guys won't understand, but I love y'all so much! Be good, okay?” They looked at me like I was crazy, and ran off to the games room to play on their Nintendo. I never saw them again my entire life...
I made the call to the taxi cab company, and Wesley stealthily helped me move my suitcases to the garage. I threw a dusty shop sheet over them and waited. Wesley asked me if this was something I was sure about doing, and I hugged him and said, “Yeah, I've just really got to go. Don't worry, I'm coming back home...I just need to get away for a bit.”
He went back inside and I waited on the taxi cab when suddenly my dad walked out to the garage. Had Wesley just told on me? I tensed up. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I returned.
“I'm headed to Krogers to pick up some things. I was thinking we could talk. Want to come along?”
Going grocery shopping had always been one of our father and son rituals; from the very first days at home, after being adopted, it had always been me and him. So many times...so many laughs, arguments, fights over who would pick the radio station to listen to. From my clumsy shopping cart disasters like knocking over sun tea jar displays, to picking up snacks and eating as we shopped, it was always he and I. And here he was essentially offering up a truce, and as if to confirm his sincerity he threw me the keys to his beloved Suburban and said, “You drive.” I held them in my hand for a second, then threw them back to him and said, “I'm good. You go ahead. I'm going to stay here.”
In that moment I clearly remember sadness cross my dad's face, and I watched as he climbed into his car and drove off. About the same time, I could see the taxi cab coming down the street...My dad passed it as he drove away. Wesley came back outside and helped me load my luggage into the taxi, and then I gave him one last hug, telling him, “Don't forget to give them the note,” I said.
I climbed into the taxi cab and it took me to the Arlington Grey Hound Bus Station...
“Mom and Dad,
I don't expect you to understand what's going on with me. I'm just going to Louisville for the rest of the break. I have a place to stay and I will go back to Oneida when the school opens back up. I'm not running away. I'll call you when I get there and let you know I'm okay. I promise.
Love,
Randy”