When we first moved into our new house, there was an old painted school bus across the street. It may have been one of the reasons we were able to get this house for the price we did- it was a bit of an oddity if not an outright eyesore.Joe was a Vietnam vet, and he lived in the bus on the property with his sister and brother-in-law- both long time artists in the community who settled here back in the hippie days.
Joe suffered from paranoia and schizophrenia and PTSD, so his world was challenging. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, walk and had a motorized wheelchair he’d ride around in, a lot of times with a tin foil hat on to keep out the bad vibes. We learned from his posture when it would be a bad day to greet him, and when it would be a good day to chat about the weather, or the pets. He liked our dogs, even when the rest of the neighbors complained about their yodeling. He and my son struck up a friendship and he’d wheel down the road with him on his walk to school, talking about basketball and conspiracy theories.
On a particularly bad day for Joe, someone complained about his ranting and the police showed up. Sue and Malin were at Disneyland- she told me later that she really questioned going this time, but it was their annual trip and only vacation. Joe leapt out of his wheelchair and jumped into Sue’s old car, speeding down the road toward the highway, the police in pursuit. He did not stop to look at the crossroads, and was hit head on by an oncoming truck. The truck driver survived minor injuries. Joe went through the windshield and died.
I often think about Joe when I think about tolerance and difference, and the lack of kindness towards folks that are suffering. I also kinda miss the bus.
— Cristine
Joe suffered from paranoia and schizophrenia and PTSD, so his world was challenging. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, walk and had a motorized wheelchair he’d ride around in, a lot of times with a tin foil hat on to keep out the bad vibes. We learned from his posture when it would be a bad day to greet him, and when it would be a good day to chat about the weather, or the pets. He liked our dogs, even when the rest of the neighbors complained about their yodeling. He and my son struck up a friendship and he’d wheel down the road with him on his walk to school, talking about basketball and conspiracy theories.
On a particularly bad day for Joe, someone complained about his ranting and the police showed up. Sue and Malin were at Disneyland- she told me later that she really questioned going this time, but it was their annual trip and only vacation. Joe leapt out of his wheelchair and jumped into Sue’s old car, speeding down the road toward the highway, the police in pursuit. He did not stop to look at the crossroads, and was hit head on by an oncoming truck. The truck driver survived minor injuries. Joe went through the windshield and died.
I often think about Joe when I think about tolerance and difference, and the lack of kindness towards folks that are suffering. I also kinda miss the bus.
— Cristine
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