Taco Bell Story -- Jeremy

    I've told my "Taco Bell" story multiple times over the years -- to school teachers, to young adults who have worked with Jeremy,  to my friends and so on.  My story begins in the year 1996 when our family was driving to St. Louis to see a specialist who would help us recover Jeremy from his disability of autism.  

     Jeremy was almost four years old when he was finally diagnosed.  He was profoundly affected and considered severe by the doctor's standards.  For the first couple of years we had Jeremy placed in a developmental preschool which meant that I drove 45 minutes to and from our house on a daily basis.  It was wearying and time-consuming.  

     Although the occupational and speech therapists at this preschool did their best, I knew there was something non-traditional that needed to be done to better help our little boy.  While visiting with another parent one afternoon I learned of a company called "National Academy for Child Development" that specialized in improving children's potential for learning.  After much prayer, we decided to enlist the support of NACD to help recover our son.

     On this particular day our family was traveling to St. Louis for our first visit with Bob Doman, Founder and Neurodevelopmentalist for NACD.  Working with NACD would be costly and require extensive daily therapy at home, but we knew that NACD would be able to tap into Jeremy's dormant potential.  I prayed that God would make it clear by giving me a 'vision' of where Jeremy could aspire to be.  I knew that it would be important for us to believe that Jeremy could make significant progress given the right structure and plan.

     Midway between St. Louis and Kansas City is the small town of Boonville, Missouri.   A Taco Bell sits along the highway.   Rick suggested tacos for lunch; although surprised with his suggestion, we soon found ourselves walking into this restaurant.  Rick took Megan to the front counter to order while I whisked Jeremy to the bathrooms.  

     Many children with autism suffer strange fears and unusual behaviors -- our little Jeremy was no different =(   The past several weeks had been difficult because Jeremy was showing great fear of the toilet seats.  In an effort to alleviate fears our little boy would stand two to three feet away -- which wasn't optimal for many reasons.  My voice became firm as I coached and gently pushed Jeremy forward.  Jeremy howled and wailed like someone being torn away from his beloved blanket.  "NO!" he yelled, "No!" Even more firmly I coached Jeremy until finally the deed was done.  Jeremy and I wearily bolted from the restroom only to find the few restaurant gatherers staring with horrified expressions as we exited the restrooms. 

     With a questioning look, Rick took both children to the car while I finished placing the order.  While waiting  I took notice of the young employee who'd taken our order.  He was fidgeting with his little black tie with a look of slight anxiety in his eyes.  There were just three of us waiting for our orders.  "Do you want to know why our son was screaming in the bathroom?" I blurted out to the employee standing in front of me.  "Now where did that come from?!" I wondered.  Again,  "Do you want to know why our son was screaming in the bathroom?"  I insistently pursued.  "Well, sure," was his reply with a shrug of his shoulders.  The other two gentlemen leaned in to hear as well.

     "Well, our son has autism and he's going through a fear of the toilet seats right now,"  I began.  "I have to be firm so that he'll get over this fear.  One can't be afraid of toilet seats all their lives," I stammered on.  Everyone took on a look of "Oh, yeah. I get it," then settled back into their usual places.  But the young employee sort of smiled sadly and said to me,  "I have autism, too."

     I'd never met an adult with autism before.  What a revelation to see a young man standing before me who was clearly able to work, to converse and understand relationships!  After a few exchanges I learned that he'd attended regular public schools, still lived at home and was now working at Taco Bell.  He hoped to move into an apartment of his own very soon.  It was a balm to my soul to see someone who'd so obviously recovered from the debilitating disability of autism.  There were little signs of his disability, as I reflected later, but none so obvious for the casual eye to observe.

     As I walked to our parked car with our sack of tacos, it suddenly dawned on me that this not-so-chance of a meeting was a divine answer from God to me.  He was giving me a glimpse of who Jeremy could become -- a functioning member of society with the capacity to know others, including his Creator.  My heart swelled with gratitude and I resolved to always expect great things from Jeremy.   I would share this story many times over the years to ensure that others would expect the same. 

      Once again, God had proven Himself to be faithful.  I am reminded of the bible verse that says,  "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;  I will counsel and watch over you."  Psalm 32:8.    Throughout the years God has consistently laid before us various therapies and opportunities for Jeremy.  It has not been an easy road, but it has been rewarding to see Jeremy's progress since those early years of severe autism. 

     Jeremy is now twenty years old.  He is able to communicate functionally, not so well, socially.  Jeremy now works for a company that puts medical kits together for a local laboratory.  It is repetitive work, but one that Jeremy seems to enjoy.  Jeremy is considered moderately high-functioning at this point.  Living alone is not an option, but we are still hopeful.  Recently I found a website that helps build and restore brain cells.  It was recommended to me by two people within a short window of time.  Jeremy loves working these computer games -- and, I plan to register myself next month =) 

For more information on NACD and Lumosity, please see these websites:

National Academy for Child Development  (www.nacd.org)
Lumosity (www.lumosity.com)