I recently discovered this twig-themed décor in a local furniture store—and was instantly transported back to Miss Bitz’s second grade classroom, where I sat in the very back of the right-most row of desks.
Our arithmetic workbook was chock-full of drawn bundles of 10 sticks and loose sticks. Everywhere you looked: bundles of 10 sticks! I realize now that it was an attempt to help me visualize the concept of tens and ones in addition. Two bundles of 10 sticks plus 3 individual sticks = a total of 23 sticks. But it sure confused me! Why are we looking at sticks? (Just tell me what numbers you want added!) I did much better when a number line was introduced.
But two other memories of sticks also surfaced: the first from my dad, who told me that as a little kid, his grandfather asked him to pick up all the sticks in the yard with two or more ends. It didn’t take the little obedient lad long: “But Pappy!”
And, when our daughter appeared in a college play, we drove out to her campus to attend the production. But we didn’t have the cash to buy a pricey bouquet of fresh-cut flowers for the ingenue. We did, however, have an abundance of free-range sticks in the backyard—and the wherewithal to present her with a beautifully arranged bundle of crisply pruned maple and willow twigs.
But now! Such trendy bundles command a ridiculous sum for the fashion-conscious homeowner! And I still can’t understand that kind of cents!
One rainy day I glimpsed a rainbow in my rearview mirror. And while I don’t recommend taking your eyes off your destination for long, a quick review of where you’ve been in such circumstances can be an encouraging reminder of three fabulous truths.
A rainbow in your rearview means:
• the storm and its difficulties are behind you. You have survived it. Be grateful, and leave those troubles in the past.
• you are facing the sun and its clearing skies. You are entering a change in your state of affairs. Be grateful, and embrace the future.
• there are still beautiful wonders in this beleaguered, woeful world. Be grateful, and enjoy the present.
The mental ability to visualize objects in three-dimensional space, and to imagine them from different perspectives, is a sign of spatial intelligence. This mode of thinking helps explain how our son could never get lost, even in wilderness; and, seemingly without effort, offer up fresh perspectives and solutions on vexing problems. One of his work-related computer programs developed a concise and elegant solution to what had previously been a complex geometrical quandary.
A very practical application of this visualization gift showed up when he was just eight years old. At a family reunion picnic, he most-closely guessed the number of Hershey’s Kisses® in two different sized jars, and won them both!
Our book, Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’stinyurl.com/4c6bxw4s recounts our son’s troubles and triumphs at home, school, and work, and how he has learned to cope and overcome. Find out how the journey is everything.
Our son, who has autism spectrum disorder (ASD), was often an inadvertent contributor to his problems by his lack of social savvy—but not always. Bullies can rise up anywhere and everywhere. And at any age. (Apparently, bullies never grow up.) They may even take the more insidious and impersonal form of institutional and systemic bias.
Children with physical, developmental, intellectual, emotional, and sensory disabilities often seem to have a prominent “Kick Me” sign on their backs, a seemingly irresistible target for the bullying mindset. Try as our son might to blend in or stay unnoticed, his “marching to a different drummer” routine attracted attention—especially from those kids who judged him ripe for their mocking, harassing, teasing, taunting, badgering, and bullying.
Often, bullies’ exploitive route is through their victims’ lack of peer support. Having friends can prevent and protect against bullying. But children with special needs often fail to make friends, and may have difficulty getting around, trouble communicating and navigating social interactions, or display signs of vulnerability and emotional distress. All of these challenges mark them as “different,” and increase their risk of aggression from bullies.
Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s introduces the concepts required to continue organizational change. And to all parents and caregivers of children with ASD, this true tale offers pragmatic guidance, self-help encouragement, and real reason for hope. tinyurl.com/4c6bxw4s
“One of the exceptional gifts of Asperger’s Syndrome is the ability to perceive an issue from a unique perspective, which can lead to fresh or surprising solutions.” – from Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s.
Despite some very rough times growing up, when our son’s autism spectrum disorder (ASD) hindered his social development, that same gift later enabled his success as a research engineer with a Master’s in physics.
Stepping Stones is the story of the paths we carved while raising a child on the high functioning sliver of the autism spectrum. We offer it as a trail guide of hope for all parents and caregivers of children with ASD.
We are offering a free ebook copy (pdf or epub) to all who leave a message of “book” with an email address. (See contact page.) All we ask is that you provide an honest review on Amazon when finished reading it. We wish all the best in their daily challenges!
The image shown comes from the book’s back cover. It was created by our son by plotting the solutions of millions of polynomial equations on the complex plane, and stacking and colorizing the result.
Supportive relationships bring vitality to reality. We are very grateful to our friends and family who have stood by us during some of our most challenging times. This year, we were able to publish our story of raising our youngest son on a high functioning sliver of the autism spectrum. As the first student in the school district diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, he became the blunt instrument of change it required but didn’t know it needed.
Each phase of life can be a stepping stone to progress. From the distinct advantage of countless wayfinding steps more than 20 years in the making, we’re now able to tell the tale of our passage. But at the time, we hadn’t a clue to the route, or the fuss we would create.
Words of faith determine the journey’s end before I arrive. In October this year, we celebrated our 45th anniversary. We couldn’t have imagined most of what our lives have become, but we know Who holds our future, and that faith has both carried us through and worked out all things for our good.
Intentional steps bring opportunities that alter destinies. In February, Philip obtained a position as a Research Engineer, after the persevering quest of 7 years and 840 job applications. We helped move him to Webster, NY and unload the truck during a winter squall off Lake Ontario with -10° windchill and near-whiteout conditions!
A strong sense of purpose overrides the pain of fulfilling it. The bold statements in this post come from several of the chapter openings in Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s. In it, we share how we hadn’t planned to be pioneers in an arduous journey—but that’s where we have found love, courage, hope, faith, learning, humor, growth, failure, trial, and triumph—everything that rounds out a life well-lived.
Only by overcoming challenges to my progress do I advance toward it. Stepping Stones is a trail guide of hope for all the parents and caregivers of children who: appear to have advantages, but somehow do not; want to be happy and fit in, but largely cannot; yearn to be treated respectfully, but usually are not.
I affirm the worth of my potential and progress toward a favorable future. Despite advances in diagnoses, therapies and other accommodations, many systemic inequities against the neurodivergent remain to be dismantled. This book introduces the concepts required to continue organizational change. And to all parents and caregivers of children with Autism Spectrum Disorder, this true tale offers pragmatic guidance, self-help encouragement, and real reason for hope.
Ignorance imprisons the mind, but learning liberates the spirit. Philip wrote the last chapter of the book, recounting the life lessons he learned in grad school and in securing a full-time job. He also created the back cover artwork and others in the book. Produced by solving and plotting the results of hundreds of millions of polynomial equations, and then stacked and colorized, he’s named this type of mathematical art “polyplots.”
Sit in peace. Stand on principle. Soar with purpose. Stepping Stones is available in print or ebook through our website timandcarolherd.com, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and other booksellers.
We believe in the message our little memoir contains, and we’re trying to reach as many people as possible. We are available for speaking to groups and for book signings. If you are an active Amazon customer, you can post a review, regardless of where you have purchased the book.
We offer this story of our experience to the great range of parents, caregivers, therapists, and support networks—as well as those who are on the autism spectrum themselves—as our like-missioned, kindred spirits. And we thank you for your support.
It’s been ten years since I resigned my job to keep my integrity, spent 17 months unemployed, and lost all my money.
And I still don’t regret it.
At the time, I was the chief executive to lead and administer my organization’s comprehensive operations. But a pattern of destabilizing behavior by the Board chair undermined my authority and community relations, unsettled two organizations, hindered the ability to attract and keep good associates—and ultimately severed the trust between us.
Without recounting the agonizing year-long details, I can report that my choices narrowed to two: I could defer to the Chair’s autocratic takeover and abandon my responsibilities, my conscience, and my integrity; or I could resign to keep what was truly in my control.
Because I resigned, I was not eligible for unemployment compensation. And at age 57, I discovered ageism first-hand as I applied unsuccessfully for more than 45 positions over the next 17 months, for which I was well-qualified.
It was truly a hard time.
But as I’ve learned, “Hard is ok.” Hard times are prime growth times—but only if I so choose. My attitude and my decisions remain within my exclusive control (unlike my circumstances!), and do inevitably influence my eventual outcomes.
What I confirmed is that my character is refined in crucibles, and my resilience ripens in distresses—but only when I sustain my faith in a better future.
Do I regret having to go through this? I am sorry it happened.
However, for its surpassing opportunities and eventual superior future, I am very grateful for the experience.
the 60th anniversary of President Kennedy’s assassination
“Where were you when you heard Kennedy was shot?” is the question that expressed my generation’s first defining communal catastrophe experience.
November 22, 2023 marks the 60th anniversary of that tragic, history-turning assassination.
Last month my wife and I visited Dallas, Texas for a professional conference, and discovered that we were within walking distance of the site of the shooting—the infamous Dealey Plaza.
On that fateful day, the President’s motorcade through the downtown made a sharp left onto Elm Street. At a speed of 11 mph, it started a gradual descent toward a railroad overpass. The front of the Texas School Book Depository was on the President’s right, and he waved to the crowd as he passed. Dealey Plaza, an open landscaped area at the western end of downtown Dallas, stretched out to the President’s left.
Seconds later several shots resounded in rapid succession. Lee Harvey Oswald, captured a few hours later inside the Texas Theater, was taken into custody under suspicion as the sniper who fired from the sixth floor of the Book Depository Building, and also for the murder of Dallas Police Officer J.D. Tippit following the very public incident.
Throughout the afternoon and evening, Oswald was subjected to a series of lineups and questioning by the Dallas Homicide and Robbery Bureau. At 1:30 am the following morning, he was arraigned before the Justice of the Peace for the murder of President Kennedy. Questioning resumed several times later that day. As he was being brought to the Captain’s office for a final round of questioning the next day, Oswald was shot and killed by nightclub owner, and alleged associate of the Chicago Outfit mafia organization, Jack Ruby.
The Warren Commission, subsequently established by President Johnson, in its 888-page final report, concluded that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone to assassinate the president; and that Jack Ruby also acted alone when he killed Oswald two days later.
In our visit to the historic site last month, we discovered that Dealey Plaza and the surrounding landscaping and buildings remain quite similar to how they appeared 60 years ago. The Book Depository is now the Dallas County Administration Building. Its sixth floor houses a museum, but access to the window of the one-time “sniper’s nest” is purposely blocked off by an exhibit.
On the street below, a total of three large yellow Xs mark the locations where the killer’s bullets ended their trajectories, a promising future of a popular President, and a more optimistic era for the nation itself.
The former Texas School Book Depository Building where Lee Harvey Oswald shot President Kennedy from the sixth floor right-most window.In this image, two large, overlapping Xs show the location in the street where the first two shots reached the open convertible the President was riding. The famous “Grassy Knoll” of the 1963 reports refer to the small sloping grassy area on the left.During our visit to Dallas, we took in the view of its expansive skyline from 470 feet high atop Reunion Tower. The circled area includes the Dallas County Administration Building (formerly the Book Depository), the small “grassy knoll” to its left, the street where the President was assassinated, and the triangular open space of Dealey Plaza in the foreground.
For the record: I was in second grade in November 1963, and on the way home from school, our bus driver informed us all that the President had been shot. At home, I burst into the house to break the awful news, but my parents were already following the live reports on our black-and-white television. Two days later, my mom was watching when Ruby killed Oswald on live TV. Even as a mere 7-year-old, I was captivated by the horrific drama.
going back in time doesn’t always match going back in mind
Yesterday Carol and I returned to the scene of our most memorable accident, when our entire family was in a horse and buggy accident at Old Bedford Village in 1989.
We were riding in an enclosed “bus wagon” pulled by Queenie, who, when she emerged from the woods into an open area, was spooked by a kite. She took off, and despite wearing blinders, ran gaping up at the sky, and never saw the building she ran into. The old buggy crumpled into the porch, and we all landed on Carol, who hurt her leg. The camera around my neck took a vicious swipe at my forehead. Before the buggy fell completely on its side, some onlookers held it up at an angle, and we were able to pass the kids out through the side window. Old Bedford Village trundled us off to the hospital for an hours-long checkup, and when we returned to the Village that evening, they quickly refunded our admission. And they followed up on our welfare for the next several weeks. See this post for the thrilling details.
Even in a historical village, a lot can change over 34 years. No one works there now who was there then, but those we told the story to were all fascinated. We learned that Queenie’s son, Prince, was their resident horse for many years, but now they have a different one. They no longer drive cows through the village, and no longer give horse and buggy rides, because they can’t afford the liability insurance.
We think we identified the building of the accident, but it too looks different from 34 years ago. Also, the site manager told us that there are several buildings that they had to tear down over the years, so maybe it doesn’t exist anymore.
Still, we enjoyed the return on an uncrowded day, visiting yesteryear’s common facilities, tools and routines. Without a horse and buggy ride.
