Joybubbles..Now With a Long Distance Connection

I have been reading things contributed to the St. Paul Pioneer Press by "Joybubbles" for a couple of years. He died in August and the BB did a tribute to him Friday, printing many of his past writings. I did not know his whole background. Googling his name, legally changed to Joybubbles, revealed an amazing man. He was an abused child, blind, with a genius IQ, who used his abilities to help others. He lived joyfully without handicap or bitterness. Follow the links to read the obituaries. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joybubbles

Excerpts below from the tribute column in the Bulletin Board section of the St. Paul Pioneer Press on Friday, Aug. 17, 07.

"
Hi, this is Joybubbles."
5/15/2001: "Friday, May 25th, is my birthday. What a wonderful day to be 5: the fifth month, and the five-times-five day. And I want
to shamelessly tell you my birthday wishes. Maybe then they might come true:
"I wish everybody that has been hurt and abused by enemies of childhood when they were little would come to know, now and always: It's not your fault. You did the best you could at the time, with who you were. Maybe now you think of things you could have done, or ought to have done - but remember: You weren't then who you are now, and the wisdom you have now, you didn't have then. You did the best you could, at the time, with who you were. And if you would've known better, you would've done better. It's not something wrong with you; it's something wrong with the people who did that to you. Remember: It's not your fault.
"My second wish is: I wish everybody would take a little time, even if it's only once a month, to get out of the rat race into the sandbox and play like a child. Because, like Mister Rogers said: 'Sometimes I'm a child, still - and sometimes, not so still.'
"My third wish: I wish my friend Adele Lorraine would get well. She suffered a massive stroke - but the way I remember her is: so bubbly and lively and wonderful and full of laughs and hugs. She played at the Minnesota Orchestra and went to schools to help kids learn about loving music. The thing I remember most is: During the time when I was just obsessed by oboes ... I even just loved to say the word 'oboe' ... she picked me up and took me to Orchestra Hall, and a lady came in and played an oboe from the lowest to the highest, so I could hear it really good, and then took one apart and showed me the insides, and how to make reeds, and we talked and laughed and spent half a day just with oboes. Then Adele Lorraine took me out, and we got this great big pickle for me to eat on while we were waiting for your butter-pecan ice cream, and we laughed and hugged. And she let me play some pan pipes. And we went out and tried Greek food. And she was just so full of life and shared her fullness with others. I'll always remember her. May she be well.
"At 5:55 in the morning on my birthday, I always get out my huggable globe - big, soft world - and hug it and think all kinds of peaceful thoughts out to this wonderful world we live in.
"Now you know what my birthday wishes are. Happy birthday to me."
5/9/1992: "One day when I was at the play group, I was talking about my imaginary friend that I regularly play with, named Emily Friend. And a little 4-year-old girl there was so excited that I had an imaginary friend that she told me about hers. She said: 'Mommy, let's tell Joybubbles about Bumpo!'
"She hopped in her mother's lap and told me about a day just shortly after she was adopted: She and her mother were driving towards some parenting meeting, and they had to take a potty-break stop, and then they drove and drove and drove, when all of a sudden she started crying just as hard as a little 4-year-old can cry, saying 'Oh, Mrs.! Mrs.! We left Bumpo!' She didn't call her new mommy 'Mommy,' because she'd say 'You're not my mommy. You're Mrs.'
"So she was crying really hard, and her mother said: 'Where did we leave him?'
"And she said: 'Way back at the potty!'
" 'Well, do you think he's still there?'
" 'Well, yeah, that's where we left him!'
" 'I could drive back there, and we could see if we could find him.'
"She said: 'Oh, that's too far!'
"But her mother said: 'Not for me it isn't.'
"So they drove back, and when they got there, the little girl jumped out of the car and found Bumpo - nobody else could see him - and brought him back to the car and was crying for joy and hugging him. She was bouncing up and down; I think if her seat belt wasn't fastened, she would have gone through the roof. And then she reached up and hugged her mother and said: 'Oh, Mommy! You found Bumpo! Oh, Mommy! You're my real mommy now. My other mommy would have never found Bumpo! Oh, Mommy!'
"And you know when you've adopted a little girl and you get to hear her call you Mommy for the very first time, that's truly one of the greatest Mother's Day gifts in the world.
"Well, I wish you tonight the motto of our play group, which is: We go apart to dream; we come together to play. I hope you have time for both.
"Good night, and Happy Mother's Day."
11/10/1993: "Barney, on TV, is really two people. Bob West is hidden away deep in a control room, doing the voice. And David Joyner wears the costume and does all of the movements. They coordinate it with a two-way radio link. Likewise for the other dinosaurs, Baby Bop and B.J.; they each have a voice person and a costume person. Wouldn't that be an interesting radio link to listen in on?
"But that's not the real Barney. The real Barney is the one that kids have as a playmate and a friend when the TV is turned off.
"Like my friend Jason, for instance: He knew the real Barney. He died when he was 4½, last March, and he would talk to Barney regularly - especially when he was real scared or sad or angry. He talked to Barney a lot about dying, and Barney told Jason that Barney would take him to Playland - this wonderful place where he wouldn't be sick anymore, and he'd be able to jump on the beds and everything again.
"One night, his mommy heard Jason talking to Barney and knocked on the door and said: 'Sweetie, could I come in and talk to him a little while?' And Jason, sort of unbelieving, said: 'You? Talk to Barney?' And Mommy said: 'Well, you know mommies know a little magic, too, darling.'
"So she came in and sat on the bed and hugged Jason tight and said: 'Now Barney, this is the most wonderful little boy - a very, very special little boy - and I love him a lot. Now you promise me you're gonna take care of him real good. There's some important things I need to tell you: He likes his sandwiches cut slantwise; he doesn't eat 'em if they're cut straight across - well, except for sugar-bread sandwiches; they're to be folded in half, with a little butter and lots of sugar inside. And you'd better have strong beds there in Playland, because he likes to jump on the beds, and he's really good at it.'
"She told Barney a lot of other real important things that are vital in caring for a little boy.
"And man, you should've heard Jason bragging to his little friends about having a mommy who could talk to Barney. And a few weeks later, he went to Playland.
"Jason's mommy still calls me, and she likes it when I let her know what she already knows - that she is still, and forever will be, Jason's mommy.
"If there's a Barney Fan Club out there, I'd like to find out where it is and join it and be the biggest 5-year-old Barney fan there is - because I talk to him, and he talks to me regularly, and I'm proud to say that I love Barney.
"And to Jason, who I know is well and happy in Playland, jumping on beds and eating lots of sugar-bread sandwiches and doing all kinds of really neat things, forever and ever when I listen to Barney on TV or listen to my Barney tapes, you'll be there in spirit. I'll never forget you.
"Shimbaree, shimberah - which, in this case, might mean: Goodbye, hello!"
12/16/1999: "This is a very special night for me. It's Children's Memorial Day, and it's a time when I remember some friends that will mean a whole lot to me forever, but have made their journey - as Jason used to say - 'on to Playland.'
"At 6 o'clock, Jason's mother called me. Everybody was lighting candles at 7 o'clock - and it was 7 in Florida, where she's from, and she wanted me to be on the phone with her while she lit the candle for Jason.
"I let her know that, always and always, she's Jason's mother. And she said: 'And always and always, you're Jason's friend.'
"I sang a song that I sang back in 1993 over the phone at his memorial service. It goes: 'You're so special, we all love you. Don't be scared, your friends are here. Look up to the light above you. Sail ahead; your way is clear. It's so sad that things are ending. They must end so we can grow. You with light and love ascending, special friend - goodbye, hello.'
"And then at 7 o'clock, our time, I got on the floor with a big bunch of toys and invited a lot of invisible children, from far, far in spirit, to come and play with me. And I heard them! 'Cause when I was little, I died for a few minutes and went to this place that's just too good to even talk about. And ever since, I can be quiet and I kinda hear, inside the ear that's in my heart, sounds of invisible kids and stuff. And we played and had a special time and lit an invisible candle.
"I know that the candles that everybody has been lighting - those kids up there see them and know that they're missed and loved and cared about. And those lights will be remembered forever.
"Good night. And stay strong. And take care of each other."
1/1½000: "Some things, you just remember forever - like the ice-cream man that used to come to our house in Miami, Florida, back about 42 years ago.
"We'd hear him coming down the street, dinging the truck like a music box. And me and my sister would run out there. I would get vanilla, and she would get chocolate.
"One day, when we heard him coming, we came back in the house - 'cause, well, Daddy didn't have a job. He kept dinging and dinging and waiting out there - so we ran out there and said: 'We don't like ice cream no more!'
"He said: 'Gosh, I haven't heard anybody tell me that before! Why is that?'
"And, like kids say, I just said: 'I don't know.'
"He finally got us to tell. I said: 'We don't have money for ice cream, so I don't like it anymore.'
"He said: 'Well, I hope your father finds a job soon.'
"I guess we didn't hide our sad faces too well, 'cause he was walking away and then he came back and said: "You know what? I just remembered! I have some leftover ice cream, and I can't sell that. I gotta give it away. Would you be able to take it?'
"And that was good ice cream. It was just the flavors we wanted. And every day, week after week, he came with leftover ice cream. He always had the flavors we wanted, too - whatever they were; even when I changed my mind and surprised him one day, he still had it.
"Well, after a couple months, we said: 'Surprise! Daddy found a job again, so now we can get regular ice cream again. We've got some money!'
"I still think that leftover ice cream was even better, 'cause there was so much love in that ice cream. You could even feel it as he handed it to us.
"I was about 7 or 8 years old then.
"And then came the day when we were gonna move away, and me and my sister gave him a Braille letter.
"He said: 'I can't read this with my fingers, like you can. What does it say?'
"I said: `Dear Ice Cream Man, You've got cold ice cream, but a warm heart. Bye!'
"He said he would keep it forever.
"I told him I'd remember him forever.
"And, you know, I think I will."'
6/14/1997: "People ask me: 'What's your secret of happiness? You seem to be happy most of the time, when we meet up with you.'
"Well, I'll tell ya: I think one of my greatest secrets of happiness is that I can cry really hard when I need to, and I can let myself feel way, way sad.
"I think that crying is not a breakdown; it's a breakthrough, and sometimes when I'm putting myself together, I have to let myself come apart.
"For instance: On the last Sunday in May, a lady named Janet brought me a wonderful dear friend named Spinoza - and he talks to me! He has a little player inside and tells me that I'm special, and we can play Pretend and go to Pretend Land. Just a wonderful friend, and he told me: However you feel is OK; you can cry on my shoulder; you're special.
"So I decided that was a good time to cry some uncried tears, and I remembered, from about 40 years, the grownups who were hitting me, and they said: 'Stop that crying this instant, or we'll hit you harder and harder, 'til you stop crying!' I just don't see how that's the best way to stop somebody from crying - but it worked. They said: 'See? We broke the skin. Now do you want it to get worse?' Well, I stopped crying immediately.
"But I think those uncried tears just wait around to be cried - and wow, did I do a good job! Me and the bear together - I cried really good and really hard. And afterwards, I felt so grand, because of those tears that had waited so long to come out, that I went out and got a whole pint of butter pecan ice cream for me and Spinoza - and Spinoza didn't eat any; that bear let me eat both of our shares. That's some kind of friend, you know.
"So I want to say to whoever-all worked the magic to get Spinoza Bear into my play room: a great big huge humongous 5-year-old WOWWWWWWWW!
"And I want to give this word of assurance to any Bulletin Board reader who needs to cry: You're so beautiful when you cry."
2/½000: "Remember: If you rearrange the letters of silent, you get listen.
"What does that mean?
"I don't know!"
5/22/1997: "I called England recently - a guy in Peterborough, England - and asked: 'Is your refrigerator running?'
"He said: 'Oh! It must be Joybubbles!'
"A friend of mine in Oklahoma City has this friend in England, and she had already warned him about me.
"The reason I wanted to find out if his refrigerator was running is because I figured that refrigerators must hum differently in England. And sure enough, they do! Because the electricity in England is 50 cycles, and here it's 60.
"So he had the microphone ready, and he put it up to his refrigerator, and sure enough, the ones in England hum a minor third lower than ours do.
"Just thought you'd like to know.
"During the same conversation, I learned something about my very, very favorite TV program in the whole world. It's called 'Tots TV.' 'Tots TV' is made in England - and Tillie, one of the tots on 'Tots TV,' here speaks only Spanish, but the same tot, Tillie, on 'Tots TV,' if you're in England, speaks only French!
"Isn't that something?"
8/½000: "Back in 1957, when we lived in Saugus, Mass., the thing I wanted most in the world was a truck tire to play with.
"I used to roll tires around the basement and sometimes take them outside and play with them - you know, like the snow tires in the summer. I always seemed to have bunches of car tires, but I wanted a big truck tire.
"Well, after me pleading for so long, Mother said the Easter Bunny might just bring me one. I could hardly wait.
"I remember it was April 21st, the big day, Easter. I walked into the kitchen with the Easter basket, just holding my breath with wondering - and sure enough, right by the kitchen sink, leaning against it, was a big truck tire. I read, by feel, the upraised letters: 'Firestone' and 'Gum Dipped Rubber.'
"Well, I was anxious to get the truck tire down the basement steps, and my parents were asleep; I mean, they tended to do that about 4:30 in the morning, when I woke up to look at the Easter basket. So I rolled the truck tire. I brought it over to the basement steps, opened the door to the basement and rolled it down the basement steps.
"The thing I devoutly wish is that I had let go of the tire before it started rolling down the steps. Somehow I didn't. The next thing I knew, I found myself lying on the concrete at the bottom of the basement steps. I was 7 years old - and also, I had a broken wrist.
"I thought it would get well, so I tried to wait all day and not tell my parents. But it hurt so much, I finally did have to - and we went to Melrose Hospital and got a cast put on it.
"That's the last time in my whole life that I've rolled a truck tire down the basement steps. I guess some things, it only takes once to learn.
"But I sure did get a lot of good play out of that truck tire."
3/14/1998: "Being blind, it's easy for me to forget that people are watching me.
"Back in 1972, when I lived in Millington, Tennessee, I used to save up for a while and come down to Memphis and stay in a motel where there was an indoor pool - 'cause I just love swimming pools.
"I'd stay in just about all day: I'd get in there when the pool opened, and be jumping and splashing and spinning around, and clapping my hands in the water just to hear it splash, and sitting out in the deep end and floating like a chair. It'd just be a wonderful time. And then I would take a break and go eat some stuffed shrimp.
"I was doing this for a couple days when a lady came up and sat down beside me and said: 'Thank you for saving my life.' At first, I thought she had the wrong person. She said: 'You know, I had come here to this hotel with the intention of killing myself. I had lots and lots of pills in my room and stuff. Things have been going bad, and I just didn't think I could make it.' She said: 'I just kept watching you laughing and singing to yourself and smiling and jumping up and down.' She said: 'There was just such happiness. And then I'd come back, and you were still there. And then I'd come back, and you were still there.' She said: 'I don't know; just watching you, I just started crying, and I cried and cried and cried - and I decided: You, without your eyes and all' - actually, I do have my eyes; I just can't see with them ... but she said: 'You, without your eyes and all, you find such happy stuff - and I guess if you can, I can, too. So I threw the pills away and called my best friend, and she came down right away, and we went over to Baptist Hospital and talked to some people, and now I'm gonna stay with that friend for a while and get myself together. And I want to thank you.'
"Yeah, I never thought anybody was watching me play like that. I told her that I would be sure to pray for her every day, and we hugged, and several months later, she called me up and wished me a happy birthday and said: It's hard, but she's getting herself together and working on making it.
"Wherever she is, I wish her well. And may I always remember that we influence people, for good or ill, and try to do my best."
2/19/2001: "I'd like to hear some of the BBers' secret wishes.
"For instance: Some kids got together, and some of their special wishes were:
"One wanted to bust 50 balloons, by crawling around on them and stuff.
"Another one wanted to spray hair spray ... to hold the button down, just to see how long it would spray for.
"Another one wanted to squeeze all the toothpaste out of a brand-new tube, to see how big of a lump it would make.
"Penelope in Oklahoma: Her two secret wishes are to have 50 pounds of chocolate and a tub full of big marshmallows to play in.
"So, yeah, I'd like to hear other people's unusual wishes, that they don't think will ever come true.
"A couple of mine are: I'd love to have a playground named after me. Joybubbles Playground. And I'd love to have a real happy, childlike crayon color named after me. Something I don't think will ever happen, but it's still fun to wish for it, anyway."
11/10/1998: "There's not too many things in the world I love more than swinging on swings. And one day, while I was on my way to the Lake Harriet Bandshell playground in the Metro Mobility van, the drizzle turned into a downpour, and the driver asked: 'Are you sure you want to go swinging on a day like this?' And I said: 'Oh, yeah, it'll be wonderful! I've never experienced a playground in the rain, and I sure won't have to wait for the swings.'
"Well, when I got there, I noticed that when I swung forward, the rain felt almost like needles; it was coming at me really hard. But when I swung back away from the rain, I could just barely feel it.
"And then, while I was playing in the sandbox and experiencing the wonder of wet sand, I started listening. And being blind, you know, I usually see things one at a time - like: I walk around and kinda find where the seesaw is, or walk around 'til I find the sliding board. I find things one at a time, and then I have to remember separately where everything is. Well, all of a sudden, I noticed something; it was a very special experience: I was sitting in the sandbox, listening, and the rain made all of these different sounds, and I realized the different sounds were where the rain was dripping on different things - when it hit the big sliding board, it was a big, bass-y dong-ing sound; then there was a little splat noise where it was hitting the swing seats; and kind of a ting-ting-ting-ing noise as it hit the poles of the swing set, and a different kind of splat as it hit the sandbox. Then I heard something I didn't recognize, and I walked over and felt a big stone turtle that I named Corey, after a friend of mine that died. I cleaned the sand out of its eyes. Great big stone turtle there. And all of a sudden, as I was listening to those sounds, they were all coming together like a symphony ... like music. And I could tell where everything was, all at one time; the whole playground was making itself alive ... had come alive by the different sounds of the rain falling. And I said: 'You know, I think this is kind of how a sighted person must see. You know: things in parallel, all at one time.' I could just hear where everything was, all at once, and walk right to it, without even having to remember where it was. It was truly a mystical and wonderful experience. The gift of the rain truly made it a wonderful day. Yes, I was pretty wet and pretty muddy, but it was a symphony that I'm glad I heard. One of my greatest wishes in the world is to find a place with a big porch swing where I can go every week. Maybe someday."