August 12th 2016
Yorktown Heights, NY
Today I did something I’ve never quite done before, I conducted an interview. Once, long ago, I had pretended to be a reporter. If I recall correctly, it was 1986 and the person I had attempted to sneak in to “interview” was one of the most protected people in the world. Without blinking an eye, I had simply decided that I was going to help my brother out. He was a student reporter at Lakeland High School and I was going to get him a photo.
A photo of the First Lady of the United States, Mrs. Nancy Reagan.
Yes folks, I forged documents and passed myself off as a Reporter to photograph the First Lady. I didn’t think it through. I didn’t realize that I’d have to go through a security check, nor did I realize that I’d come face to face with the Secret Service only I didn’t get to do it in a line like everyone else there to cover her. Nope, I was late and ran smack into the Security Team that had sealed down the perimeter of the building already. To go over what exactly I did. I was posing as a Reporter, posing as a student at the local high school and forged a press credentials from the school.
When I approached the first layer of Security, they removed me from my vehicle and after a quick body search, they (3 men) led me up to a field far away from the building where two other black suited men with cool dark shades and ear mics appeared out of nowhere and escorted me to another checkpoint where they did a more thorough search of me and my photography equipment. Made me shoot off some pictures and then…they opened and door and escorted me into a room where the First Lady was just feet in front of me surrounded by real reporters and photographers. Somehow I pulled it off.
Here is a link to her visit to Shrub Oak, NY that day:
http://www.nytimes.com/1986/09/18/nyregion/first-lady-asserts-antidrug-effort-is-gaining.html
I was less nervous that day than I was today. Today I was going to meet a very interesting woman; a woman whom I did not know, whom anyone really knows. Women I had immediately become fascinated by after simply walking into her home and discovering a single box on her kitchen counter which led me to another box and then another box. Three boxes are all that had been left behind in her home after she had been removed and all of the home’s contents disposed of. Three boxes that began to tell me her story.
I was able to find out where the woman was taken and had received permission to talk to her. I was warned though that she is suffering from dementia. So the very first person I chose to interview would be one of the hardest people to actually talk to. I quickly began researching articles on how to speak to a person with dementia and also found some articles on how to interview them. I then picked up the phone and called the home. I was expecting to speak to a nurse or a caregiver; I never expected them to just put me on the phone with her.
How do you just tell someone you wish to write his or her story? Especially when that person may not be completely coherent. She answered the phone and I introduced myself. I told her I knew of her volunteer work at Nursing Homes and I’d like to repay that and visit her now. She agreed and we made plans to meet at 1pm. Arlene drove me down and dropped me off. I felt it best if I was the only one there.
I walked into the home. A home I’d been to before when my Mom was recovering from knee surgery. If you’ve never been inside a Nursing Home, I highly suggest you go visit. Perhaps take a pet there or if you have a talent, offer to perform. It is an extremely sad place to walk into, but after a while, you will see a glimmer of joy. It’s there; just hidden behind this system we use to care for our elderly or as I like to say – us in twenty to thirty years.
I signed in, was given her room number and I walked down the hall. Along the way I passed numerous residents or patients. Some have come here for rehabilitation while others have been put here. Those that were put here were put here by family or by a legally appointed guardian. Most of them were women, frail, withdrawn, and curled up in their wheelchairs. Others seemed to be a bit more responsive and energetic, but all were looking at this stranger walking their halls. I greeted each person I passed with a smile and hello.
Approaching her room, I found her in a wheelchair in her doorway. I asked her name and there she was. I introduced myself and she invited me in. We sat, talked for a moment and I asked her if I could record our conversation. She agreed and so it began.
For the next two and a half hours she and I talked and she gave me a tour of the residences. She did not like being there; she is trying to get out. While I don’t wish to go into the details of the interview, I will share this part. As we talked, we’d go in circles. Soon I discovered they were not round circles at all but elliptical circles. With each loop, I’d get a little more information, a little more memory. Sometimes this information would contradict the previous information and we’d go around again.
I enjoyed talking to her, getting to know her, but there was also sadness in talking to her. Her memory of how she got her must be frightening. She believes she was driving down the road and took a wrong turn and got lost. She knocked on the door of where we are and they took her in and have never let her go. She believes they have kidnapped her and the police are in on it; she’s called the police so many times, they took her phone away. I don’t know how she actually ended up here. I do plan on finding out, but we all know it wasn’t like that yet this is what plays out in her mind over and over.
The woman before me; though frail and week on the outside was still quite strong on the inside. She discussed with me how she planned to escape. Where she was going to go and what she was going to do. She was just waiting for the right opportunity. This strong willed woman is the one I am searching for. There is a large part of her memory that was absent and I’m hoping that I can find that within her before I need to hit the water again. I plan on writing to her as she’s written to a lot of people who don’t write back. It’s because they have passed, but she doesn’t know that. I feel bad that I must eventually leave her and will do my best to stay in touch with her and I beg each of you to find it in your heart to visit a home by you and adopt an elderly person who has no one left. Let’s treat them as we wish to be treated for we will be in their shoes, quite literally.
Day 42 Done.
