A Salute to Fathers

By Dick Sobsey

Everyone in the disability community is affected by the Latimer case, not least of all parents of children with significant disabilities. When Dick Sobsey e-mailed this essay, written from the heart, to a few colleagues along with a note inviting them to "feel free to share this Father’s Day message with anyone who may be interested," he had no idea it would generate such an overwhelming response. He has received hundreds of e-mails, and shortened versions of it have appeared in two community newspapers and on CBC Radio.


Almost 50 years ago, I used to watch Roy Rogers and Dale Evans on TV. When I was six, Roy and Dale were the kind of heroes that I needed. I was still learning about the world, and their show made it easy to tell the good guys from the bad ones.

What I didn’t know back then was that Roy and Dale were also parents of a child with a severe disability.

Their daughter, Robin, had Down syndrome with lots of complications. She only lived a couple of years, but Roy and Dale loved her and did everything they could to keep her alive as long as they could. Dale was one of the first parents to speak out about being the mother of a child with a severe developmental disability, in a time when most parents hid such children. Roy joined her in telling people that Robin had been a wonderful blessing for their family. They were heroes in more ways than one back then, and, just like on their show, it was easy to tell who
the good guys were.

Now, Father’s Day in the year 2000 is here. I’m looking at an old photo of Roy Rogers holding his precious daughter, Robin Elizabeth. The caption reads: "Our baby Robin helped show us the true meaning of love and faith." It makes me think about what it means to be a father in the year 2000. As another father who lost a daughter with a severe disability many years ago, and who does the best he can to preserve and protect the life of another child today, I think I recognize the love in his eyes.

I can still hear Roy and Dale singing "Happy Trails to You" at the end of each show. It was sweet and a little sad, and now I recognize its deeper meaning for them.

Today, life is a lot more complicated. We have new heroes. In a few days, Robert Latimer’s murder conviction comes before the Supreme Court of Canada. Repeatedly we are told that he was a hero for killing his own child, for sparing her from a life of misery. People tell me that he must have been compassionate, rational and brave. Media experts tell me that he must have loved his daughter a lot to do what he did.

It’s a new millennium and I guess we have different kinds of heroes now.

There is certainly no shortage of them. Michael Gentry will be sentenced for involuntary manslaughter of his 15-year-old severely disabled daughter in Los Angeles on July 6. Perhaps this, too, was an act of love. Oto Orlik stabbed his 14-year-old severely disabled daughter more than 30 times before she died in Wisconsin in 1998. How many fathers could be that rational or compassionate? Eight-year-old Justin Blair, who was blind and had cerebral palsy, was beaten to death with a hammer by his father in New Hampshire. I cannot imagine the kind of courage that would require. There are 110 fathers, stepfathers, foster fathers and adoptive fathers who are implicated in the homicides of their
developmentally disabled children in our current homicide database at the University of Alberta. These heroes shot, scalded, stabbed, poisoned, electrocuted, starved, beat, drowned, hanged, smothered and gassed their disabled children to death. One father, who was enraged because the hospital would not give his child the care that he felt was required, threw the child out of a twelfth-storey window.

Only a few cases get much attention from the media. Often the sentences are light. In 1984, Louise Brown’s father killed her and then claimed that his car had been stolen with her in it. The judge sentenced him to only five years for killing his daughter, who had Down syndrome, because he thought that her father might have been traumatized by having a child with a disability. After all, he was no threat to society and a model citizen, just another heroic father overcome with grief, who spared his disabled daughter and his beloved family a life of unimaginable
suffering. The English courts were less forgiving when he came back before them in 1997. They sentenced him to life for killing his brother by stabbing him 63 times.

Now, I confess that I am not the best father in the world. There are times when I could be a better father to my son, who has a severe disability, and times when I could be a better father to my daughter, who doesn’t. I will never be the hero who takes decisive and drastic action. I know dozens of other fathers of kids with disabilities who are also less than perfect. They will never be heroes of the new millennium. They will just face life one day at a time, usually a little sleep deprived, feeling their way through unexplored territory.

Many of them have much tougher challenges than I do. Lots of them handle things with more grace. Some of them are great writers or artists or musicians. Most are just ordinary people but, in the middle of the night, trying to soothe a sleepless child, they are all pretty much the same. Some complain that life demands a little too much from them, and others don’t, but, deep inside, they love their children and they love being fathers to them.

Most of them consider themselves lucky. They have grown as human beings and learned new things about themselves because of their special relationship with a child who needs a lot from them. Some of them are single fathers. Most have wives that give as much or more to their families and who share the triumphs and setbacks. Some have other children who feel deprived because their parents give so much to the child with a disability, but most of these brothers and sisters are comforted to know that their parents would do just as much for them if they needed it.

These men are not the heroes of the new millennium, far from it. They are only fathers. Their names will not become household words. They will not receive thousands of letters of support for their courage. They will not be discussed by lawyers and bioethicists. They will never become poster boys for the right-to-die movement. They will just keep doing the best that they can for as long as they can do it.

Neil Young is the father of a son with significant cerebral palsy. He’s written songs about his son. He bought a controlling share in Lionel Trains in order to get them to make adaptive controls for their trains. He and his wife Peggy actively worked to develop services for children with disabilities.

Others who are not so famous work long days and come home to take care of a child with a severe disability. These actions are not the kind of fatherly heroism that gets national attention.

Roy Rogers died a few years ago. To me, he is still a hero in the old-fashioned sense. For Father’s Day in the year 2000, I want to salute all fathers everywhere who find a way to give their kids a little more of themselves when it’s needed. Here’s to all those dads who will always be less than perfect and never be heroes but keep on doing the best they can. Happy Father’s Day.

(Dick Sobsey is a Professor of Educational Psychology and Director of the JP Das Developmental Disabilities Centre at the
University of Alberta.)

UPDATE ON THE LATIMER CASE

On June 14, the Supreme Court of Canada began to hear the appeal of Robert Latimer, a farmer from Saskatchewan who admits he
killed her daughter, Tracy, who had disabilities. A poignant press release from the Canadian Association for Community Living presents a picture of the murder case and of Tracy that has not often been seen in mainstream media. The following is excerpted from the press release.

Robert Latimer’s assertion that he murdered his child out of love is an absurd affront to families across Canada who fear an outcome that would condone the "compassionate" murder. Several groups representing families and people with disabilities will attend the Wednesday appeal in Ottawa and their lawyer will explain there is no ethical argument for murdering people with disabilities. In fact, the argument itself is feared to be the first deliberation to allow the killing of those people whom society at best does not fully understand and at worst will not
tolerate.

While Latimer’s defense lawyers and media have played on the sympathy angle, suggesting he killed his daughter to relieve her pain, there is no evidence that an independent person confirmed the extent of her alleged constant suffering. Indeed, pain management had not been fully explored by the family; Tracy’s autopsy showed no painkiller in her system, not even Tylenol. Yet Latimer has maintained to the media that the murder was motivated by her pain. In fact, he made this claim only after being caught in a lie to police about how Tracy died. While he continues to make the claim to the media, he has remained silent in court, preserving his right to protection against self-incrimination.

Laura Latimer, who initially agreed to testify against her husband but then changed her mind, tried to downplay her daughter’s ability in order to put her husband in a better light. But in the journal she shared with the school, Laura often paints Tracy as a little girl who could communicate a great deal, even without speech, and enjoyed life and family. "Tracy was good, ate and drank fine... [friends] picked us up in their motor home. Tracy went in her wheelchair... she seemed tickled with the outing, ate a very good supper, especially enjoyed lemon pie...
she slept on the bed in the motor home on the way back, had milk and pudding at bedtime." Other notes indicate "she will try to pat, pick up the cat" and "smiles when she sees the cat." Whenever her left hand was within range of as person with eyeglasses, including her father, the doctor or people at the developmental centre, she would pull the glasses off and teasingly turn back for a reaction, When her sister pout an array of nail polish bottles in front of her, Tracy invariably chose red.

If Latimer’s actions are excused, families and individuals in Canada fear that people with disabilities will swiftly become more vulnerable to misconceptions about disability, abuse, neglect and ultimately murder. They fear murder will be seen no longer as a crime but as a necessity for parents, caregivers and others who believe there is no other alternative. The worst outcome of this appeal will be the creation of a climate wherein people with disabilities, aging persons, people injured on the job, at play or in car accidents, people who are incapacitated by
illness or disease -- who may or may not be perceived to be "in pain" -- are better off dead.