Mom by Dave Isay

Author:Dave Isay
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Non-fiction
ISBN: 9781101427323
Publisher: Penguin Press
Published: 2010-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

RAY MARTINEZ, 56

Ray Martinez: I was raised in the Colorado State Children’s Home in Denver. They kept kids from infancy to age eighteen or nineteen years old. I was there from infancy to age five.

I remember that the orphanage had this practice where they would allow potential parents to check you out like a library book: they could borrow you for a couple of weeks, take you home, and see if you were a fit for their family. A couple of times I remember riding in the car, leaving the orphanage with potential parents, and them just trying to make me happy and make me laugh, and me sitting in the front in these little booster seats cars had back then in the fifties. But I never remember being at their homes. What I do remember is getting returned to the orphanage, riding back in the backseat of the car with no one talking to me. So I sensed right then and there that for some reason or another they didn’t like me. I couldn’t put it into words; I just felt it. I can distinctly remember riding up to the orphanage, which had an oval road in the front, and always feeling like I was back home. When I got out of the car, I can remember a couple of times running in the orphanage saying to myself, I never want to leave this place again! And I think that was a lesson that I carried with me in law enforcement and as mayor—that I believe that you should accept everybody for who they are and reject nobody.

The second lesson was how you share things, because in the orphanage you really didn’t own anything—nothing was yours; everything you had was shared. If it was cold outside, they’d bring out a table of coats and everyone threw on a coat, and every day you had a different coat when you went outside to play. You didn’t know anything about Santa Claus because they never brought Santa Claus to the orphanage. They would bring military people who would hand you gifts, and you’d take turns opening your gifts. You’d put them in the center of the room, and then everybody could play with all the toys. So I had more than just one toy; I had hundreds of them—you just shared everything that you had.

Finally, I was adopted. I was five years old. The matron sat me on the front counter, and my dad looked at me and my mom looked at me, and I looked at them—we just kind of stared at each other. My dad shoved this blue stocking cap over my head, and my mom shoved this little toy stuffed dog in my arm. They swept me off the counter, and away we went.

My mother said, “We never brought you home on a trial basis because they told us, ‘We think Ray is experiencing rejection. ’” So they came for several weeks just to observe me. They were enamored with me, I guess, and they said, “That’s who we want.

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