Blue Highways: Hayward and Park Falls, Wisconsin

Unfolding the Map

Picking up a teen hitchhiker was probably not the smartest thing that William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) did, but as we're riding along with both of them it's a good time to examine factors that lead kids to run away.  As we pass through Hayward and Park Falls, I'll reflect on my own experiences running away, and the diagnosing and medicating of kids with ADHD.  Flee to the map to pinpoint our location.

Book Quote

"East of Hayward we drove into resort country where billboards and small, tacky motels lined the highway.  The pavement rose and dropped, up and down, and the van rode like a cockboat.  The girl fell asleep.  At Park Falls, I stopped for gas."

Blue Highways: Part 7, Chapter 12

Downtown Park Falls, Wisconsin. Photo by ForwardLook and posted at Panoramio. Click on photo to go to host site.

Hayward and Park Falls, Wisconsin

I'm going to quote a little bit more from this chapter of Blue Highways.

"Her name was something like Stacie McDougald, and she had run away two days earlier with another girl who returned home by bus after the first night.  Stacie then hitched a ride with a boy who brought down the back road.

"'He never said anything, but when he stopped by the lake I got scared and ran.  He looked for me in the woods and stuff, but the mosquitoes were like real terrible, so he gave up.'

"She had hidden in the trees all night, eaten a couple of Ho-Ho's, and finally put her head in the knapsack to escape the very mosquitoes that had saved her.

"....She took a vial from her jacket...Vacantly she stared at the vial, shook out a pill, and swallowed it with a swig of Pepsi.

"'What's the pill?'

"'Gotta take them.  I'm hyperactive.  They're Ludes.'

"The vial had no label.  'Prescribed?'

"'Oh, sort of.  Like they used to be.  I took Ritalin when I was little.'"

Blue Highways: Part 7, Chapter 12

I wanted to quote a little more because this girl touches a few spots in me, as you might have guessed from my last post.

One thing she brings to mind is my own futile attempts to run away.  I don't want to give the impression that I did it often, because I think I might have made the attempt two or three times when I was in my early teens.  Like Stacie McDougald, I had good reasons to run away, which will become apparent as we accompany LHM and Stacie a little farther down the road in Wisconsin.  But here's the problem - I was too scared to actually go through with it.  So, my attempts at running away took this form:

1) I make a big deal and run out of the house down to the end of the lane, and mill around waiting for someone to come after me.  When nobody comes, I get scared and walk back down to my house and sheepishly do something outside until I go back inside and act like nothing has happened.

2) I yell at my mother/father that I'm going to run away, and one of them (usually my mother) says "fine, call us when you get to where you are going."  Then I get scared and stay home and eventually go inside and act like nothing happened.

The truth is that I was too scared to do something like that.  Despite the problems at home that I'll get into in a future post, I was too comfortable at home.  I probably had as many reasons to run away as anyone, but I just couldn't do it...I couldn't take that next step.  Now, many years older and supposedly wiser, I realize that for a child to run away, they have to have really compelling and overwhelming reasons.  No child wants to run away, so there has to be something really bad going on at home for a child to choose to take to the road and forgo the comforts of home.  Especially if forgoing the comforts of home means running from a boy whose sole intent in providing a ride is so that he can rape you, and then spending the night in wood full of mosquitoes.  Usually, children run away because home is not comfortable, and has been made an unsafe place.  And that's sad because of all the places a child should feel most comfortable, most safe, most at ease, it's in his or her own home.

The second thing that strikes me about these particular passages in the book are that, like many children, Stacie McDougal is medicated.  Whether her quaaludes are prescribed or illegal is beside the point.  Children today, if they aren't drugged up on illegal drugs, are often drugged up on prescription medication.

I remember when some children were just considered to be "very active."  Activities were planned for them.  Sometime, when I wasn't paying attention, the terms "hyperactive," and then "attention deficit hyperactivity disorder," or "ADHD," came into vogue.  Now it seems that every child who is active enough that parents or teachers find it difficult to keep up with him or her is given that diagnosis and put on pills like Ritalin, Dexedrine and Adderall.  Should those diagnoses have been common when I was young, I too might have been put on drugs as I was known to be "forgetful in daily activities," be "easily distracted," and lose "toys, pencils...etc."  I too blurted out "answers before questions have been completed" and had "difficulty awaiting [my] turn."  I also "[fidgeted] with hands or feet or [squirmed] in seat." (All quotations from the definition of ADHD by the National Institutes of Health's US National Library of Medicine).  I thought that was all part of being a kid, but have discovered that it is seen to be a disorder.

I realize that there are some children that are truly disordered, and that such kids can be very difficult.  But when did the line blur between being an active child and being disordered?  When did daydreaming become a symptom of a mental problem?  In my case, my symptoms were the result of something far more insidious going on in my family.  I often wonder, as we medicate our children, how many signs are being misread?  How many children are in crisis either from neglect or abuse, but we drug those signs away?

I surmise that in the future, rather than seeing the increase in diagnoses of ADHD as an illness or disorder that had not been recognized, instead it will be seen as a symptom of our society as it is today.  I think that in a time where traditional families, with one parent at home, are fast disappearing as both parents go to work, the need to keep kids focused on homework and activities becomes more and more necessary.  No longer can children waste time in unorganized play, daydreaming, and just being kids.  Instead they have to be attentive all the time, whether it's in their organized activities or their schoolwork.  I grew up in one of those traditional families where, when I came home from school, I had time to unwind in play before dinner and before I did my homework.  I don't see that happening much any more.  So, if a kid doesn't show that initial capacity for that kind of focus, they are diagnosed and medicated.

I may be totally off-base.  After all, one can take issue with the fact that I've never had children, despite my desire to do so.  That's a fair criticism of my views, and I won't hold it against anyone who brings up such a criticism.  I only have opinions and ideas based on my conceptions of being a parent.  I've never been down in the trenches dealing with an unruly child, or trying to hold it together while the kids fight, or just tried to keep up with the ordinary demands of parenting.

But I read about this girl that LHM describes, this Stacie McDougal who ran away from home, and who as we'll see has very legitimate reasons for doing so.  And I read about a girl who has been convinced that she needs drugs to deal with certain problems and therefore is taking quaaludes that she is convinced help her.  However, there are legitimate concerns about the overdiagnosis of ADHD, such as parents who don't want to deal with unruly children.  All this is happening right about the time that ADD and ADHD became the vogue diagnosis.  Now not only children but adults are diagnosed with this disorder, fueling what some call an "ADHD-industrial complex" consisting of American psychiatrists, US pharmaceutical companies, and makers of herbal supplements.  It has also led to ADHD prescription drug abuse among teenagers to get high and undiagnosed college students using "study drugs" to focus and get better grades. 

I wonder if as a society we are missing the mark, somehow.

Musical Interlude

I was quite touched, unexpectedly, by Ludacris' song Runaway Love (with Mary J. Blige).  I say unexpectedly because I didn't know that Ludacris rapped about specific social issues.  But then I didn't know much about Ludacris.  His foundation apparently supports efforts to find and help runaways.  It's a very powerful song.

If you want to know more about Hayward or Park Falls

Hayward Chamber of Commerce
Hayward Lakes Convention and Visitors Bureau
Park Falls Chamber of Commerce
Price County Daily (Park Falls newspaper)
Sawyer County Record (Hayward Newspaper)
Wikipedia: Hayward
Wikipedia: Park Falls

Next up: Fifield, Wisconsin

Blue Highways: West of Minong, Wisconsin

Unfolding the Map

I really don't have much in the way of introduction for this post.  I'm just going to let it, and the subsequent two or three posts, speak for themselves.  The only thing I will say is that this blog has been about my inner thoughts about the books I'm mapping, so I can warn you that the next few posts will be very personal and difficult for me, and are a result of William Least Heat-Moon's chapter where he picks up a runaway girl and gives her a ride to Green Bay despite his misgivings.  The map will show you the area that I believe approximately shows where LHM picked her up.

Book Quote

"'Hey! Sir!  Going toward Green Bay?'...

"'Do you live in Green Bay?' She shook her head. 'Look, I'm not picking up some teenage roadie unless I know what you're doing.' I kept checking the rearview mirror.  'Where do you live?'

"'Eau Claire.'  She was trying not to cry.

"'What are you doing up here?'

"'Come on, man!'  I put the truck in gear.  Her face red with rage, she screamed, 'I split!'

"'What's in Green Bay?'

"She took a few steps up the road.  'Christ!  I don't need a ride this bad!'

"'And I don't need your trouble.'  I put the van in gear again.

"Through gritted teeth she said, 'My grandmother's in Green Bay!'

I checked the rearview mirror again.  The truth was I thought she might be the bait on some scam.  'Hey!' she said.  'I'm the one's supposed to be scared.'"

Blue Highways: Part 7, Chapter 12

Old saloon in Minong, Wisconsin. Photo by Tom at Tom's Travel Blog. Click on photo to go to host page.

West of Minong, Wisconsin

A Letter
To
The Daughter
I Will Never
Have
(Part 1)

Dear ____,

I don't know what to call you.  The only reason I call you ____ is because I'm not really sure what I would have named you or if you would have come to me with a name.

I'm writing this letter to you because this next set of stops in Blue Highways, where LHM rides with a young runaway girl hitching to Green Bay, seems to invite me to do something that I have been meaning to do for a long time.  I need to come to some kind understanding that I will never know you.  I need to grieve that you will never exist in my life.

You see, I'm 48 years old now.  My wife and I put off having children until we began to consider becoming parents in our late 30s.  Little did we know that was too late.  Her body had developed conditions that meant that there was little chance of fertilization, and little chance of implantation even if fertilization occurred.  That was terribly emotionally difficult for her - for both of us.  I was supportive, assuring her that she had no blame, no reason for feeling guilty whatsoever.

We decided that we might try for adoption.  After all, I was adopted.  I am not particularly attached to my genetic material, and besides, I have always felt that loving and caring for a child transcends genes.  But, despite initial explorations, we couldn't get it together.  Then, personal difficulties and professional opportunities delayed us even more.

It is said that if you wait until you are ready to have children, you will never have them.  That perfectly describes us.  As I have gotten older, I think too much about things.  I hope that you will understand that it's not selfishness that drives me to give up my dream of you.

I want you to know that I always assumed I'd be a father.  I have always dreamed of raising a daughter.  I don't know why a daughter in particular.  Maybe it's the romantic notion of the bond that fathers and daughters develop, so different than the mother/daughter bond but just as special in its own way.  I pictured myself helping you grow, teaching you, being proud of who you would turn out to be and all the the things that you would have accomplished.  I saw myself not only playing with you and later, helping you learn how to throw a softball and how to bat, going to your dance or music recitals, and also being present at your birthday parties or taking you to your friends' parties.  I imagined that your mom and I would share being with you in your myriad of activities, and the best times would be when all of us were together.

I could see you being strong and independent, because after all you would have your mother and me as role models.  I also pictured in you an intelligence and a curiosity about what the world has to offer.  You would have a renaissance of interests, encouraged by me.  I would have only tried to give you a good basis for making the right decisions, but I wouldn't have tried to force you into being a younger, female version of me.  Instead I would have encouraged you to explore and experiment and find your way in the world and hopefully, you would teach me as you made your discoveries. 

I imagined you growing up.  I saw myself accompanying you to a father-daughter high school dance.  I pictured you bringing home boys.  I would play the protective father and you would protest that you could take care of yourself and I would trust you to be careful.  I saw myself proudly giving you away at your wedding.  You would look beautiful in your dress and in your happiness.  Your mom would dry her tears and I would choke back a lump in my throat.  I imagined you tired but happy after delivering your own children, and myself as the silver-haired grandfather connecting with granddaughters and grandsons just as we bonded.

But that won't come to pass.  You will be forever an illusory desire because I realize, at my age and after waiting so long, that it just .might be too difficult now.  You see, when people are young, they have kids without thinking about the consequences.  They just do it and work out the details later.  When you get older, you begin to wonder whether you can step up.  Latent fears, including that of being an older parent, step in.  You wonder if you be able to change your lifestyle to accommodate a child's needs.  You wonder if you have the right stuff.

If there is indecision, then I don't think it's right to try.  You can't just give child-raising a trial and after a month say "this isn't for me."  But it's hard for me to think about, because I really, really wanted you.  And I know, in my heart, that I would have been a great father to you, whoever you might have been.

I think about the runaway that LHM finds in the middle of the woods in Wisconsin, and I know that would not have happened to you.  You would have had no reason to run away, no reason to be scared and lonely and on your own.  Our house would have been the place that you and your friends would have wanted to be.  You would have been happy, and you would have been loved.  I would have used everything that I learned from my life, which, as you will see in subsequent posts has taught me a lot, to not only teach you but protect you.

I know that I have a naive view of parenting.  I know that there would be troubles, growing pains, arguments and fights, drama, heartbreak and other difficulties.  But we would have worked through them, and even if you were angry and upset with me you would have known that you were supported and loved.

But right now, I just want to say I'm sorry, and that on days when I'm not denying to myself what my choices have meant for my chance at fatherhood, I miss you terribly and I grieve your loss.

Musical Interlude

When I first heard this spoken-word song, If I Had a Daughter, after we purchased Terri Hendrix album The Spiritual Kind, it brought a tear to my eye.  Ms. Hendrix encapsulated many inner feelings I have.  This video was made by someone Ms. Hendrix knows and was approved by her.

If you want to know more about Minong

Minong, Wisconsin
Town of Minong
Village of Minong
Washburn County: Minong
Wikipedia: Minong

Next up: Hayward and Park Falls, Wisconsin