Nothin’ But Net

I knew he was much more than the 1950s label, “severely retarded,” which had coerced Mom to send him to Willowbrook State School for the Mentally Retarded over Dad’s wishes, where he resided from age four to twenty. Fred had benefitted from several decades of community-based living and from my guardianship for the past seventeen years since Mom died. I was no longer surprised by his posing abstract questions. I always believed Fred was capable of abstract thought. 

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