Don't Let Them Take Me Away - Stories About My Dad

Whenever Mom needed an errand done she would send me down to the local market or drug store.  Of course, I was only too happy to oblige because I liked to drive and Mom was happy to get other things done at home while I ran her errands in town. 

On this particular day with list in hand I headed to the car.  Steve and Jim asked if they could go with me.  Mom wanted to have some peace and quiet so we loaded into the station wagon and drove off to the shopping center about a mile away. 

We arrived at the drug store and I began to gather the items on Mom’s list.  I went to the counter and paid with the money Mom had given me, gathered up the purchases and headed for the car. “I’m leaving guys. Let’s go,” I threw over my shoulder as I walked out.


I was already out the door and crossing the parking lot to the car when I turned to make sure the boys were coming.  I only saw Steve.  “Where’s Jim?” I asked.  Then I noticed a guy in a white coat heading back into the store with my younger brother, Jim, firmly in his grasp. 

“What’s that guy doing with our brother?” I asked Steve.  “I don’t know.” Steve shot back as he continued to the car.  Hmmm.

I turned and followed the man and my brother back into the building and to the office which was situated in the far back of the store. It began to dawn on me that maybe Jim was in serious trouble.  Fear and panic were in his eyes.

Jim and Dad at Sue's house in Colorado.
July 2012

I need to stop here and let the reader know that we siblings were familiar with the “shed” which happened to be the garage.  Dad was a believer in the belt and we didn’t like experiencing that belief! We knew that if we got in trouble it would not be pleasant but if we got in trouble with the law that was something we were afraid to even think about.  Though I was too old for “the shed” Jim was not and I understood the look in his eyes. He knew he was in trouble in unknown territory! He was heading for full panic mode.

I went up to the counter and said to the pharmacist, “That’s my kid brother, may I use your phone to call my Dad?”

“Sure, it’s over there.” He answered as he pointed behind the counter. 

Now it was my turn to panic.  What was I going to say?  I didn’t want to call Dad, but I knew I had to. I walked over, picked up the receiver, dialed the number, and waited for the voice to come on the line. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I was terrified and nervous.  There were occasions in disciplining that Dad would lose it.  Not that he was cruel, but he just wanted us to learn the severity of our mistake and not do it again. 

“Hello?”

“Dad?”  I’m at the pharmacy.  Jim just got caught stealing something and they have him in the back office.  Would you come?” I waited for the explosion.

“I’ll be right there.” Click.

The calm with which Dad took the news was just not natural.  Putting the phone back on the cradle I turned to Jim and told him that Dad was on the way.

PANIC! 

“Dad’s gonna kill me! What am I gonna do?  He’s gonna kill me!” Jim blurted.

“Jim, calm down. You don’t know what’s going to happen.  Sit down!” I demanded.

About over the edge of sanity Jim blubbered, “NO! I can’t sit down! Dad’s gonna kill me!”

I came very close to slapping him into reality.  However, I decided to sit in the chair instead.  Jim paced the small office mumbling and blubbering how he was a “dead man!”

In a few minutes Dad’s voice could be heard. “Where is he and what has he done?” he asked the pharmacist. Answering his question the pharmacist informed Dad that Jim was in the back office.  “We caught him stealing these balloons.”

Then Dad with all the coolness and calmness that I have ever seen any parent exhibit said, “Book him.” He turned and walked out.

Jim’s eyes bulged out of his head; my mouth dropped to the floor, the pharmacist, clearly surprised, raised his finger just as Jim screamed out with all his might, “DAD! PLEASE DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME AWAY!”

The entire patronage in the store turned to look at the lunatic kid screaming his lungs out and crying a river of tears.  I began to shrink, or tried to, into the corner not wanting to be associated with these maniacs.

The pharmacist ran after Dad, with finger still raised, stammered, “Uh sir, this is obviously this kids first offense. We usually don’t charge them the first time if the parent is willing to take charge.”

“Well, do whatever you do,” Dad advised the man coolly. He returned to the car and waited.

The pharmacist went into the office, closed the door, and gave Jim a long lecture on how a life of crime gets started and that maybe he should choose a different line of work.  Jim readily agreed and he was released into Dad’s custody.

Before we left the parking lot Dad came over to the station wagon and instructed Steve and I that we were not to ever mention the incident again.  It seemed that Jim had a terrifying enough experience regarding the possibility of going to prison over stealing a couple of silly balloons.  It was almost more than his little heart could take.

That night at supper the conversation was minimal.  Steve, being the funny guy that he is, looked out the window and saw a police cruiser going by.  He turned and said, “Hey Jim, look out the window, they’re comin' to get ya!”

Jim, always the LOON!
 

“Very  funny.” Jim retorted.  He was relieved he was sitting at the dinner table with us and not riding down town!  Dad gave Steve the look that said, “Knock it off!”

For several years the incident wasn’t mentioned again.  Jim related to me that going through that experience taught him a huge lesson and that he never even thought of stealing again.

There is good that comes out of suffering the consequences of our decisions. After I was married I told that story on the radio in Florida.  I won a one year supply of Lemonade and a cooler to put it in.  I called Jim and said, “Guess what? I just told the entire state of Florida about your balloon experience!” He laughed and told me it was okay and that he won the highest grade in his English Composition class in college for writing on that very subject.

God loved David, the shepherd and king.  He gave David the throne of Israel and all the glory that went with it.  He called David, “a man after His own heart.” But when David messed up God didn’t remove the consequences of those decisions.  He let David learn from them – and David was repentant.

Dad loved Jim.  Jim learned and was repentant.  Good job teaching, Dad! 

Written by Sue Kanen

February 2002