Ken and Mitchell Kinder go for a ride.
‘Thanks go way back': Father thankful for his son's life-long learning experiences
By Ken Kinder
Special to The Union
(Thursday, November 24, 2011)
Thanksgiving is a holiday to celebrate our blessings and this day has a way of causing me to reflect. I thought to myself, “Old boy what are you really thankful about?”
The answer was easy.
I am thankful for my family and the joys they have brought into my life. My first born was home for the holiday, as he is for most of the special occasions. Mitchell lives just in the next county and we keep in touch on a regular basis, but it was good having him home sharing his old bedroom again.
The thanks go way back. I'm thankful Janey didn't leave me on the day I left her in the middle of a motorcycle ride.
We were courting then, not yet married. I don't know if she would have gone on the ride if she knew that the clutch cable on my 1955 B.S.A. Goldstar had broken, making it impossible to utilize the clutch properly. I had to rev up the engine, pop it in gear without a clutch lever and take off. After I was moving I could shift without using the clutch.
One nice Saturday, I was enjoying a drink or two when I decided to take Janey for a ride. She was hanging around my waist with a death hold. At a stop sign I told her to relax and enjoy the ride. She did just that and when I popped the bike in gear she fell off the back onto the ground.
But she didn't leave me.
And within a couple of years our eldest son, Mitchell, was born. I'm thankful for Mitchell, but I was especially thankful a few years back around Christmas, when I had recently fallen down the stairs at home and broken my right leg just above the ankle. Mitchell was home for the holidays and had really been a great help to Janey, caring for the invalid with the broken leg. Our home is a two-story.
So it was that I found myself watching TV and a Disney special presentation based on the life story of Loretta Claiborne, the 1996 ESPY Award winner, a physically and mentally challenged track star. Escaping the grim fate of an institution and encouraged early in life, Loretta exhibited great strength of character and physical talent.
In order to avoid being tormented by other kids she learned to outrun them.
Battling incredible obstacles and even the jealousy of her own family, this inspiring African-American woman became a top athlete, learned four languages, and became a spokesperson for the Special Olympics.
Prior to the Disney story, Oprah Winfrey had run a show dedicated to the mentally challenged, with highlights of the life of Loretta Claiborne. During the show, many accomplished disabled individuals were introduced. Some brief family histories were presented with parents describing life with their special children.
The stories generally began with something like: From their birth, I was advised not to bring them home. They would more likely than not die before the age of one. If they lived, they would be nothing more than a vegetable, not able to recognize or respond to their families with love or affection.
I thought, “Good Lord, are they still telling that old wives tale?”
In 1957, our son Mitchell was born with Down Syndrome. This is the same nonsense we were told. Most parents like ourselves relied on the information given by our doctors. What a mistake this could be. We found out through our own experience what the mentally handicapped can do and, more important, what they can give. I shudder to think what our life would have been like without Mitchell's presence.
My good friend Ronald Reagan understood.
Yes, that Ronald Reagan, the one my wife swears was not my good friend. Oh yes, I'd tell her, don't you recall all those personal letters he wrote to me? No, she would reply. So I had to explain again. I have shown her on at least four different occasions letters that Ronald Reagan has written to me with the greeting, Mr. Kenneth Kinder, “my friend,” I would like to call on you to help out in my political campaign.
This happened twice during his gubernatorial campaign for governor of California, and twice for his presidential campaigns. He would always end these letters with the notation, my fellow American, your friend, Ronald Reagan. Now, I would think this makes us pretty tight wouldn't you?
Not only had he written to me, he invited me over to his house for an afternoon lawn party while he was governor of this great state. Well, not exactly me, but my son Mitchell. And, it was not exactly Ronnie, but his wife Nancy who sent the invitation.
It was during his second term as governor of California that Nancy was instrumental in helping start the foster-grandparents program and Mitchell received this invitation. He was in one of the first groups to participate in the program. It was started as a conduit to match up retired seniors who had a desire to help with handicapped individuals.
Mitchell's foster-grandmother, Winifred Hoeser, was a great influence in helping to improve Mitchell's social and dining skills. So it came as no great surprise when she informed us that the two of them had received an invitation from the governor's mansion to an afternoon lawn luncheon.
The purpose of this event, at the Governor's East Scarmento estate, was to create publicity for this new program and it served its end well. The foster-grandparent program grew by leaps and bounds after this exposure.
Mitchell had just turned 17 and had always been a social butterfly, so he was really in his world when it came to public exposure. He schmoozed with all the reporters and even got to use the P.A. system to introduce his foster-grandmother to the Reagans.
The Reagans each gave a short message to the excited audience. What a gracious couple they were to participate in this endeavor. After their individual statements, they mixed into the crowd and engaged their guests. Mitchell crowded right in and rushed up to Nancy with his foster-grandmother.
So I can honestly say I'm thankful to Ronald and Nancy Reagan and to Mitchell's foster-grandmother, Winifred Hoeser. If only she'd been in our lives in 1962. I have holes in my memory from that year. Literal holes. In the seat of that 1955 B.S.A. Goldstar. A memory of a younger Mitchell.
The B.S.A. Goldstar 500 single revolutionized a period of motorcycle racing. Janey could tell you from that memorable ride a few years back. I traded this bike to my brother in-law John Cox straight across for a Bultaco Sherpa T trials bike in 1969.
My brother-in-law's riding addiction peaked when he became the owner of a very successful motorcycle dealership in Sacramento, C&R Cycleworld. The Goldstar was stored at John's shop until he sold the business in 1974. At that time he was offered a lot of money for the BSA. It was no longer manufactured and was considered a classic.
He told me he'd almost sold it, but after looking at the many holes in the seat he relented.
He remembered how they got there and just couldn't sell my bike.
He gave it to my younger son Matt with the instructions that it had to remain in the family. Matt kept it a short time and then gave it to me, saying that it meant a lot more to me than anyone else.
I still have the '55 BSA, parked outside under a shelter I built. To dream I just look out my office window and rediscover my youth.
And the holes? The holes were made by Mitchell, when he was four or five. One day I had something else more pressing to do and refused to give Mitchell a ride. The next morning, when I started for work, I noticed all these small holes in the seat. I was furious. That evening I learned that Mitchell had taken a screwdriver from a small tool kit I had given him and poked a series of holes in the seat.
Over time we discovered more purposeful outlets for misspent energy. Mitch became active in the Boy Scouts and developed an interest in the Special Olympics. Mitchell Kinder (right) accepts a medal in a Special Olympics swimming event.
There were many local and regional Special Olympics competitions to enter. It was fun to watch them play basketball, not knowing or caring which basket was theirs to shoot. Or, in swimming relays, when Mitchell would stop in the middle of the pool and cheer his competition forward. Mitchell also competed in track, in the softball throw and Frisbee throw, and a myriad of other events.
Then there came a time in his life that he started training in weightlifting. His coach worked hard with him and got him to a point where Mitchell was winning all his local and regional events.
Mitch's desire was to participate in the California state competitions. And all the preparation took him there. In 1989 Mitchell and his coach flew to Los Angeles to compete in the summer Olympics. It was a three-day event with all the trimmings. Janey and I took our motor home south to attend.
During his events Mitchell won two gold medals in his age and weight class for the dead lift and bench press. Among the medal presenters were Michael Landon and Todd Christensen from the Oakland Raiders, two of Mitchell's favorites.
When they were not competing, the athletes were free to watch the others compete and also got to wander about the enormous campus collecting photographs, autographs, and souvenirs from their favorite heroes. I made a VHS tape of this three day event along with our side trip that followed. We view this tape on special occasions and revel in the experience that has thrilled Mitchell over and over again.
What produced this drive in Mitchell? Where do any of us get the drive to achieve? Given the opportunity we can all do great things.
We encouraged Mitchell to experience most of the things his brother Matthew had tried. I made a mini-bike for Matt when he was five or six. It had a 5 horsepower Briggs and Stratton engine, centrifugal clutch, and a rear drum brake. Matt could really make this puppy run, as could Mitch.
The problem became apparent when it was time to stop, Mitch didn't know how. His best attempt was to run into a fence or tree. This method was a bit hard on the bike and rider. So we had to come up with another answer. Our solution was to use a field with tall grass. When we wanted Mitch to slow or stop we yelled for him to head for the tall grass and this would stop the mini-bike.
With a little help, Mitchell could do just about anything.
To those who know or live with a mentally challenged person in your family, don't be influenced by the negative comments that come your way about their limitations.
Instead, look for the possibilities, because your lives will be enriched. Steer them toward the tall grass, then lift them up and let them run again, giving thanks for the joys these special ones can give. No, it hasn't always been easy raising our son, but the love and joy that he brings into our life is priceless.
So I give thanks for the many memories and the continuing enrichment provided by my family. Here's Mitchell, 48 years old now, and still likes to ride.
