[Lloyd-TX]

"The Folded Napkin"

If this doesn't light your fire, your wood is wet!

I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie.

He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down’s Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade.

The ones who concerned me were the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded 'truck stop germ'; the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks..

I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.

After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and peppershaker was exactly in its place, not a breadcrumb Or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table.
Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag.

If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work.

He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome often have heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.

A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine.

Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news.

Bell Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table.

Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Bell Ringer a withering look.

He grinned. 'OK, Frannie , what was that all about?' he asked..

'We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay.'

'I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?'

Frannie quickly told Bell Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery then sighed: 'Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK,' she said. 'But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is.' Bell Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do.

After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.

'What's up?' I asked.

'I didn't get that table where Bell Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off,' she said. 'This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup.'

She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed 'Something For Stevie'.

'Pony Pete asked me what that was all about,' she said, 'so I told him about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this.'
She handed me another paper napkin that had 'Something For Stevie' scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: 'Truckers!!'

That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work.

His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called ten times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy.

I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back

Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting

'Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast,' I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. 'Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!'
I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room.

I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins 'First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess,' I said. I tried to sound stern.

Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had 'Something for Stevie' printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table.

Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother. 'There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems.. 'Happy Thanksgiving.'

Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well.

But you know what's funny?
While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table....

Best worker I ever hired.

Plant a seed and watch it grow..

At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward it, fulfilling the need!

If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate person.

Well.. Don't just sit there! Send
this story on! Keep it going, this is a good one!

Blessed are those who can give without remembering and take without forgetting.

[Old Goat 67]

Amen Lloyd!!!

[Stuart]

Nice story but it's fiction. "Something for Stevie" was written by Dan Anderson, published in RPM for Truckers magazine in November 1998. It was also made into a movie in 2007: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1555840/

[Lloyd-TX]

Originally Posted by Stuart

Nice story but it's fiction. "Something for Stevie" was written by Dan Anderson, published in RPM for Truckers magazine in November 1998. It was also made into a movie in 2007: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1555840/

Oops!

[Blue'69]

Wow, what a nice story and a very nice groups of folks to care of Stevie and his Mom.
Makes my day.

[marxjunk]

we have a local hot spot BBQ shack close by me, and all the bus people have Downs or similar, and they are dedicated to their job, and the shop owners are more dedicated to them..everything you described is exactly what goes on there.

Recently, a customer of mine that owns a bodyshop hired a kid with Downs for a porter, and he tells me all the time, hes the best employee hes had...ever..he just had to open his mind to the fact, not everyone is the same, and some have better strengths than others

[mrrat1]

Originally Posted by Stuart

Nice story but it's fiction. "Something for Stevie" was written by Dan Anderson, published in RPM for Truckers magazine in November 1998. It was also made into a movie in 2007: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1555840/

Still a good story..........I think most truckers are like those guys in it!!

[tigergto]

Originally Posted by marxjunk

we have a local hot spot BBQ shack close by me, and all the bus people have Downs or similar, and they are dedicated to their job, and the shop owners are more dedicated to them..everything you described is exactly what goes on there.

Recently, a customer of mine that owns a bodyshop hired a kid with Downs for a porter, and he tells me all the time, hes the best employee hes had...ever..he just had to open his mind to the fact, not everyone is the same, and some have better strengths than others

As the uncle of a 50 yr old Downs child/man this quote is dead on. As I tell my sister Scott has taught me more than I could ever teach him.

[Heybuck]

Good story and whether its not true doesn't really matter one jot. When we read or hear of these stories, it separates the warm hearted humanitarians from the cold hearted narcistics among us.

Show me someone who doesn't get a lump in their throat listening to Red Sovine singing Teddy Bear

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zoTLwrm9QE

[The Boss]

Nice story Lloyd, thanks for sharing it!

[poncho-mike]

When I was a kid, I remember my mom would cry every time she heard "Teddy Bear" on the radio.

The Christmas Shoes by Alabama is another sad song.

[rexs73gto]

I have a daughter myself who is handi capable, no handicapped , & when she was born nothing seemed wrong with there but as she started to grow it became more clear she was not quite all there. She has something that I can't spell but it makes her a bit slower then others. She can't read or write but she is able to take care of all her physical needs & has the warmest heart. She is like stevie, when she does something she does it to the best of her ability. The thing that come to mind when I think about her is, well the only word I can think of is LOVE. This is to my daughter Carrie. Love Daddy.

[Heybuck]

Good post Rex. I wish you all the very best for your daughter and yourself.

Some people reading this thread might know about The Melbourne Cup. It's known as the "Race that stops a Nation". So, a horse race which attracts the worlds best horses with the worlds best jockeys. Literally. Run on the first Tuesday of November each year. A bit crazy in that Cup Day is a public holiday here.

Last year, the winner was a local horse, a 100-1 outsider, ridden by a female jockey and the strapper was her brother Stevie who is a Down Syndrome guy.

This story really had the nations heart strings pulled tight. Worth watching it.

http://www.smh.com.au/sport/horserac...03-gkprvu.html

[Txbobcat]

We had a downs boy working at our local grocery store. Nobody came into that store without a personal greeting from him. He was the most pleasant and friendly worker in the store. If you came in for a 1/2 gallon of milk expect him to carry it to your car for you while thanking you for coming in and wishing you a good day. He was the most exceptional employee I had ever seen. Two years later Walmart came to town and the store closed. Everyone asked what would happen to him. He was transferred to another store about 12 miles from here. When in the neighborhood I will stop and buy something just to go in and say hi to him. I wish more people were like him.