In March 1973, my dad packed up his three children, stepdaughter, and wife and moved them from Findlay, Ohio to Tucson, Arizona. Bill collectors were knocking on the door, so Dad sold our household goods in an auction before moving west, hoping to avoid having furniture and other financed goods repossessed. Two months after our move, finance companies found out where we lived and repossessed Dad’s automobiles.
After finishing tenth grade, I hopped on a Greyhound bus and returned to my mother’s home in Bryan, Ohio. Restless to get back to my church, Trinity Baptist Church, and friends, in August 1973 I returned to Findlay, living first with Bob and Bonnie Bolander, a young couple with two girls in Mount Blanchard, and then with Gladys Canterbury. Gladys was an older woman, a divorcee, and a strict disciplinarian.
So that Gladys would receive a monthly check for my care and I would have Medicaid insurance, I was made a ward of the court. This meant that my parents were stripped of their legal rights and the “court” was, in effect, my parent. I thought nothing of this at the time. I was busy with church and attending my eleventh year of school. From playing sports, to working a part-time job, to chasing girls, uh I mean Jesus, I had a busy life filled with activity.
I usually walked or rode my bike to school — three miles, one way. Occasionally, when the weather was bitterly cold, I would ride the bus. I attended classes until 11:30 am or so every day. No study halls or downtime. After classes, I would ride my bike to Bill Knapp’s, where I worked as a busboy for the lunch shift, taking a break to eat and do my homework before working the evening shift. Afterward, I would ride my bike or walk home. On days with inclement weather, I would call a cab to pick me up.
I never missed a day of school — not one — but by May 1974 I was homesick and wanted to move back to my mother’s home in Bryan. I knew that Gladys (and the church) would forbid me from doing so, so I skipped the last week of school, preparing for my mom to come and get me on the appointed day.
I left Gladys a note, thanking her for her help and telling her I was moving back in with my mom. That night, she called me and told me that I had to return to her house, and if I didn’t she would have me arrested. This, of course, was a bluff, which I called, and that was the end of that. I remained a ward of the court until my eighteenth birthday, but having reached the age of seventeen, dropping out of high school, and working a full-time job, I suspect the powers that be thought forcing me to return to Findlay was a waste of time.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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A lot of kids probably slip through the cracks like this. I’m sure as a 17-year-old you thought you knrw what you were doing in life. 😁
Oh my! My experience during the ’74-’75 senior school year wasn’t quite so harrowing. My parents’ turbulent divorce was finalized in November of my senior year. My mom quickly remarried and moved out to the suburbs of our large city. I promptly told her I wasn’t quitting my high school in the middle of my senior year. She said fine, you can stay in the house until the summer. For the next six months I was responsible to get myself to school (on two different city buses), feed myself, make sure my homework was done, and take care of the dog and cat. I did it, and my life was peaceful for the first time in my adolescence. I didn’t let anyone know, either, as I didn’t want foster care to come and take me away. My mom and step-dad did stop in once a week with groceries, and they called everyday.
Would I let any kid of mine do that today? No way!
Bruce, you certainly are resourceful. I do not, however, envy the experiences that formed such an admirable trait.
Your story reminds me of why a former social worker I know doesn’t trust the foster care system. (It’s one of the reasons why she’s a former social worker.)
I wouldn’t want to be a seventeen year old today, as adulting is so much harder in America now – we have 43 years of Neoliberalism to thank for that. I wish I could go back in a time machine, to that optimistic era. Ah, the Seventies ! I had no clue, living up in NorCal, that 1980 with it’s dystopian starting gun was right around the corner. I rented my first small house,at 17. That’s not possible today !
We had all our belongings set on the curb on South Williams St, probably for nonpayment of rent. I also lost everything and had no idea where it went. Things just went downhill from there. Bad luck has a way of growing.
I was a ward of the court in Bryan when I was 16. Superintendent Jones called me into his office the first month of Freshman year and asked if I were a ward if the court. I said yes. He said that meant I couldn’t t attend Bryan High school. Not true but I didn’t know and had no responsible adult to turn to. Jones was a miserable SOB over reaching his authority for some reason, perhaps to appease someone who complained about me. (I had talent for pissing people off). That ended of my education for years. I went to work at La Choy with my fake ID showing me 18 years old. I enrolled in Tri-State College with my GED diploma at 29. It was all uphill but I acquired a BSL and a JD and I’m a member of the Bar. I tell ya life ain’t easy for a boy from a messed up family. You know what I mean huh Bruce?