The children knew what to do when the time came. They ran—some out of fear, others out of custom—to the field beyond the white, two-story house with the tin roof and the wide front porch and the outhouse nearby and Dr. Parris’s car parked between the house and the barn. Briggs Parris had come quickly that day because he knew that subsequent children come quickly, and this was Mrs. Guice’s 15th baby.
Born on January 17, 1942, Gerald Ray Guice was the 15th child of Mary Geneva Morgan Guice and John Franklin Guice. Like his previous siblings, he was born at home delivered by the same doctor. Upon his birth, Dr. Parris knew immediately that something was different about this 15th baby. “Miss Geneva,” he said, “something’s different about this baby. Maybe you should put him in an institution.”
“No,” was her succinct response.
“But he probably won’t live long. You don’t want to get too attached.”
“No. We will love him and keep him and raise him as long as we have him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Miss Geneva said with certainty.
Down Syndrome was the diagnosis, and little was known about this condition in 1942 in the small Alabama town. But love him, keep him, and raise him the Guice family did—all the way to 2004. Yes, we had him for 62 years, undoubtedly longer than the doctor expected him to live. Like his older siblings, Gerald was taught to help on the farm, picking cotton, sweeping porches, drawing water from the well, and carrying coal to the house for heating. He was taught to honor his parents, referring to his father as Papa John and to his mother as number one in his life. His family taught him to show respect to other people, always responding with “Yes, Sir” or “Yes, Ma’am.” As with all the other children in the family, he was taught to be reverent in church. Ringing the church bell to signify the beginning of worship was a task he did with joy and eagerness. He felt important, because he was important.
Gerald loved people, and he enjoyed learning. For a short time, he went to a school named Faith, Hope, and Love, which was the brainchild of Clyde Eleanor Strickland Lowrey. Mrs. Lowrey saw the need for a special school in their small town to accommodate the children and young adults with learning disabilities. Gerald was the first student to enroll and became the star student, partly because he had been taught good manners and social skills by his family. Unfortunately, the school closed after only two years because of a lack of continued funding.
However, his family continued to teach him. He knew how to sign his name; he knew the names of people in his community; he understood how kitchen gadgets, some farm machinery, and record players worked; he learned to drive a golf cart on the farm; he learned to play his keyboard; he knew the names of all of his nieces and nephews—and there were many; he knew the makes and models of cars; he knew the words to hymns and sang with passion and power.
Upon her death bed in 1975 (Granddaddy had passed away in 1973), Mary Geneva was concerned about her 15th child, for all of the other 14 had finished their education and established their lives. What would become of Gerald Ray? Her adult children who surrounded their beloved mother vowed never to put him in an institution and always to care for him. For many years, Gerald stayed a month at a time with 12 siblings, affording him the opportunity to see different parts of the country, experience a variety of pastimes, and get to know nieces and nephews. When his health began to fail, his stays with some siblings stretched to at least two months at a time, and, fortunately, his sister Janice was a nurse and could help the rest of the family understand what was going on in this kind, loving man’s body. Also, fortunately, several of Uncle Gerald’s in-laws cared for him just as compassionately as his siblings. One time, he almost died in a hospital in Jacksonville, Florida, but thanks to excellent medical care and the support of family, he survived to be transported by ambulance and accompanied by his sister Sue and his brother James over the nine-hour trek back to his hometown in Alabama. Welcomed via posters and balloons, he was glad to be back, closer to his birth home, closer to where he had grown up, closer to the comforting memories of a mother who refused to turn her baby over to an institution, a father who taught him a work ethic, and 14 siblings who were devoted to their youngest brother.
In many ways—many heavenly ways—Gerald was like a child: He had an instinctive humility, a natural dependence on God (taught to him early in his life), and an instinctive trust that his needs would be met. Even with the restrictions Gerald faced in this life, he sensed what is important: faith in God, how to give love and how to receive love, and the ability to laugh.
Thankfully, today more is known about Down Syndrome, and more opportunities are available. And, thankfully, my grandparents did not put Uncle Gerald in an institution in 1942. Also thankfully, my mother and her siblings kept their promise to their dear mother that they would take care of their brother. Gerald’s special qualities grew with the influence of his parents, his brothers and sisters, and their spouses, who gave him the finest care and the utmost attention for 62 years. They added years and much happiness to his life. As a result, he left many indelible memories for those whose lives he touched. In short, the label of Down Syndrome was diminished by the loving, compassionate, and happy child of God that distinguished Gerald Ray Guice.
