Falling Down (Ch. 37) - Randy Halprin

Randy Halprin
 "We tend to see a person in the moment, not as the journey they travelled to get here."  Kat Lehmann

Go to content
Memoirs
  
**Warning...contains offensive language, and reference to drug use**

FALLING DOWN : PART TWO (1996)
Chapter 37

(by Randy E. Halprin)
A Memoir


The next morning everyone was ushered out of the shelter and told the doors would remain closed until 6pm. I had no idea what I would do for the day, but an older black lady told me there was a “day shelter” where people could hang out, and possibly get picked up for work doing temporary labor. I thanked her for letting me know, but then decided to head to South Cooper Street, not very far from my old house, and start applying for jobs.  

I'd spent most of my childhood and early teens hanging out and around on Cooper Street, and I knew that I had a good chance of being hired relatively quickly by someone, because the street was lined with fast food chains, restaurants, and shopping centres – including the largest mall, The Parks, Arlington. I had enough money to last me a few days so the first thing I did was get breakfast at McDonalds. I looked to see if there was a hiring sign, but nothing was posted. After I finished eating I decided to call my dad's work number and left a message on his answering machine.  

“Dad, I still don't know if the family is home or on vacation, and I assure you I won't be going to our house to find out. I just need to talk to you and mom and let you know why I came back to Texas. I'm sincerely trying to get my life back on track. I don't want to talk to Chief Waybourn...I want to talk to you. Please.”

I hung up the pay phone and continued on down Cooper Street. I saw my reflection in a store window and thought, geeze, that look is not going to get you a job...I passed another strip of stores and there was a Pro Cuts Hair Salon that was just opening its doors, so I decided to get my hair cut and dyed back to its original colour. It felt odd after it was done because my hair was the shortest it had been in a year, and I'd been well settled into my alternative look. Now I looked clean cut again...The all-American kid. However, I knew it was the only way people would take me seriously.  

There was a What-A-Burger (pronounced “Waterburger” in Texan dialect) fast food place with a 'Hiring' sign outside, so I went in and asked for an application form. Again, I was faced with the obstacle of having no fixed address – I didn't even have a phone number to put on the form, so I decided to take a chance and ask to speak directly to the manager. After asking one of the employees if he would speak to me, the manager appeared, “How can I help you?” He asked.  

“Hello.” I said. “I'm Randy Halprin, and I'm applying for a job here, but I have a couple of things I'd like to speak to you about because I want to shoot straight with you...I just came back from Kentucky under some serious stresses in my life, and I thought I'd be able to return home. It didn't exactly work out that way, so I'm staying in the Arlington Night Shelter.”

“You some kind of trouble maker? The man asked.  

“No, sir, quite the opposite. I will work to the fullest of my ability and if you just want to give me a mop and have me clean bathrooms, that's fine with me...But I need a job and I don't plan on staying in the shelter. The sooner I get out of there, the better.”

“Got a phone number where I can reach you? Maybe a pager number?”

“No, but one of the first things I plan on doing is buying a pager when I can afford it.”

“You know, you might've been better off lying on that application because it sounds like you have more baggage than I'm willing to put up with. I'm sorry. There's a few more places hiring up and and down the road. Try them out, and best of luck to you.”

“Thanks.” I said, and walked out of the restaurant. I crumpled the application up and threw it in a trash bin.  

I couldn't believe it! The dude actually wanted me to lie to him? I couldn't do anything right – lie, tell the truth...What did adults want from me?

I continued on to several other places – some I used to even eat at with my own family when I lived at home. As I approached The Parks Mall, memories of me and my best friend Chad flooded my mind. In a strip mall across the street from the mall, we used to ride our bikes around and skate board. In the Grundy's restaurant nearby we'd buy a dozen biscuits for a few dollars and smear butter and honey all over them until we couldn't eat any more. A nearby Cinnabon was a frequent breakfast destination place for us...I stopped and sat on the curb, watching cars speed by as the memories played out before me. I was confused. I was hurt. I'd never felt more lost in my life! I was willing to accept responsibility for my many mistakes and poor choices, and all I really wanted was some guidance from someone who claimed to love me. All I wanted was a chance.  

As the morning sun rose higher I began to sweat, so I decided to head towards the mall and walk around. Maybe I'd get lucky and find a job there. When I got there the mall was coming alive, and a few elderly people had head bands and wrist bands on – they were part of the 'Mall Walker' club. My dad had once joined them when he wanted to lose some weight, and I half expected to see him shoot by in his shorts and over-sized Reebok shoes. One elderly man looked vaguely familiar, so as he walked by I said “hello” and he replied, “Good day, son!” before breezing by. He didn't recognize me.  

I went from store to store but everyone told me they weren't hiring - the summer jobs were all taken. It had slipped my mind that school was out. Not far from the mall was Arlington High, Gunn Junior High, and another Junior High...I knew my odds were slim. I continued walking around a bit more when a guy in khaki dockers and a blue dress shirt approached me. He looked familiar but I couldn't recall where I knew him from. He had a clipboard and in his hand was a name tag that said he was a representative of RC Cola, a popular southern soda.  

“Hi! I'm Jeremy from RC Cola! Would you like to take our survey and help us with our latest promotional campaign?” He said, enthusiastically.  

I looked at him a bit closer when he told me his name. “Jeremy Weiner?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?” He asked.  

“Beth Shalom. Hebrew class...I'm Randy!”

“Holy cow, man! I didn't even recognise you! How have you been?”

“Been rough, but I'm trying to get back on my feet. I'll do your survey though, just to help you. What do I have to do?”

“Follow me. I was going to add that we are paying people 10 dollars for their time.” He said, leading me to a set of partitions set up like a small office.  

We entered and he gave me the clipboard and asked me to fill it out with my name, and other information. The he pulled out what looked like three soda cans with covers on them.  

“These are three new can designs. Have a good look at them when I pull the cover off, and write down which one you like best, and why, on the clipboard.”

I looked at the three cans – I wasn't particularly impressed with any of them and said, “I kind of like the original can better, if I'm honest. It looked like it belonged in Texas. These look like they're trying to be too hip.”

“Write that down then. Now, I'm going to show you three short commercials. Tell me which one was the best, or if you didn't like them, and why.”

There was a TV and VCR set up on a table, and he leaned over and pressed 'play'. The first commercial was horrible – cheaply animated, and an obviously exaggerated and fake southern accent narrated the video...

“You've got to be kidding me,” I said. It sounds like a hill-billy narrated that thing!” I said, laughing. Another came on with kids riding BMX bikes, jumping over a creek, and doing tricks.” “Too hip.” I said. Mountain Dew would produce similar extreme sport commercials and catapult the soda to top amongst the more hip soda drinkers in the late 1990s. The final video was a bit more southern with an old man sitting on a porch sipping a bottle of RC Cola – that one seemed more appropriate for the drink, so I made a note of that.  

When it was all done, Jeremy thanked me and gave me a ten dollar bill. I asked him if he still attended Beth Shalom and he said that his family had moved to Ft. Worth and they attended a more conservative congregation in that area.  

“Do you keep up with anyone from our class?” I asked him.  

“Nah, not really. I think my parents might. I'm getting ready to go to University, and once I leave Texas I don't plan on coming back.”

“Alright, dude,” I said. It was great catching up with you and I appreciate the ten bucks. Hey, do you know any place that might be hiring?”

“Not really...Sorry, wait – they're about to break ground down the road next to the hypermarket for a Burlington Coat Factory, or maybe they've already built it. Anyway, they might be hiring over there. Give them a shot!”

I appreciate it.” I said, and shook his hand before walking away.  

I looked around a bit more and decided to see if the movie theater across the street – another old hangout growing up – had any good movies playing. Most of the movies they were showing I'd seen already back in Kentucky, but there was a poster advertising “Independence Day” starring Will Smith that said it came out on July 3rd. I made a mental note and thought to myself, “Oh yeah! Definitely can't miss that!”

The day had gone by relatively fast, and I needed to get back to the shelter. I made the several-mile walk back, and waited outside of the shelter as more people arrived from the day shelter and other places. A few commented on my 'new' look, and I thanked them.  

At 6pm the doors opened and they allowed people to enter. I  made it in and a counsellor told me that I needed to do a proper orientation. He pulled me into his office, had me fill out some paperwork, and explained the rules to me.  

“You have a certain amount of time to find a job, and if it looks like you're not looking for a job or you can't find one, we will have to ask you to find another place to stay. This program is about getting people back on their feet, and we don't want drifters and wanderers. Don't think for a second that we won't give your bed to someone more serious about getting back on their own two feet. Once you find a job, you'll be allowed to stay for an additional 90 days. This will allow you to save up money for a new residence which we will help you to find. There's a lot we can do to help you, but we need to see that you're helping yourself as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

He told me that under no circumstances – unless I had a job at night – was I to come to the shelter past 6pm. I told him I had wanted to attend my synagogue on Friday nights and he said, “I'll give you a religious pass for services, but if you go out, you go to the service and come straight back. No exceptions.”

I couldn't help but notice how strict the place was compared to the Hope Center, but Texas had always been a “pull yourself up by the bootstrap” kind of State, with little aid for welfare or government assistance. I knew I had to be absolutely serious in everything I did.  

Another day or two passed and I was still having no luck with finding a job. I couldn't get a hold of my parents either. I was beginning to slip into depression...On July 3rd I went to the movie theater to see Independence Day, walked around the mall, and then headed back to the shelter. On July 4th we were allowed to spend the day at the night shelter, and some volunteer groups threw a big barbecue for the holiday. That evening we were allowed to go to a nearby park to watch the fireworks display that the Six Flags amusement park put on, as well as another display over at the city baseball park for the Texas Rangers baseball teams.  

There was a group of children playing in the park and I decided to wrestle around with them in the hope it would lift my spirits. One child was wandering around unattended and I said, “Whoa there little fella, where's your mom?” A group of adults and a heavy set woman in her early 20s were laughing and eating watermelon nearby. “Is this anyone's kid?” I asked. The young woman came up to me and said, “Oops! Lost track of him!” Before taking him from my arms. She introduced herself as Charity, and I introduced myself in return. “Thanks for keeping an eye out for him.” She said.  

“Sure. No problem.”

The fireworks went off overhead and I watched, unsure of what I was going to do if I didn't find a job. Then, my mind wandered and I began to wonder what Bill was doing for the July 4th celebrations...I imagined him at Tally Ho, being an idiot! I felt pangs...I wanted some acid...I wanted to be tripping, watching the fireworks overhead. I forced my mind to focus on my family, on my brothers...I was doing this for them as much as I was doing it for myself. I knew if I could somehow focus and get a hold of my dad, I would be able to show and convince him how serious I was.  

Friday 5th came and I began to think that I'd be able to catch my dad at our Synagogue, or at the very least, run into someone who knew him and could talk to him for me – maybe arrange a meeting somewhere. I respected Chief Waybourn, but with his recent threats when I returned to Texas, I could no longer trust him, and it broke my heart because of the respect I had for him when I was growing up. My best bet was attending Friday night services. I received permission to stay out for the services, from the shelter, and was told to head home as soon as the service ended. I had to explain that our synagogue had an Oneg – a small feast – after the service, where everyone chatted and caught up on their daily lives. They allowed me an extra hour for that.  

I dressed nicely, and headed out to my old Synagogue, but was shocked when I saw it! They'd been talking about renovations to it for years, and I guess they had finally gone through with it because the temple was three times the size it was and they had even bought out several of the houses and land across the street from it. The old playground had been moved, and I looked anxiously around for the tree we had planted when I was a child, to see how it had grown, but it was nowhere in sight! My heart dropped...I had been so excited to see that tree, and wondered if they had moved it somewhere else.  

I went inside, hoping to run into some family friends – especially the S's – but they were nowhere to be found. Mr and Mrs S were founders and regulars, so it was disappointing to not see them, and get to talk to them...They were also my best shot at reaching my father. Their daughter Mindi had been a long time friend of mine and we'd gone out several times as young teens. They'd always been extremely warm and inviting towards me. I grabbed a Kipa, put it on my head, and entered the worship area. There was a new Rabbi and a few other people I didn't recognise, but no one I thought knew my father. Still, being there, saying the old prayers, and realising I hadn't actually forgotten any of the Hebrew I learned over the years, warmed my heart and lifted my spirits. I felt at peace.  

After the service I introduced myself as Randy Halprin, “Dan's son” but no one recognised the name. How long had it been since my dad attended services? The Rabbi invited everyone to the table where challah was laid out, and asked us to join him in a prayer. Then I grabbed a white paper plate and loaded it down with cheeses, grapes, and some cake. I said “hello” to a few other new faces, and then left, heading back to the shelter.  

The next day I felt spiritually at peace, so I decided to try and call my parents at home directly again, hoping that G-d would be with me...Hoping he had heard my prayers and my heart. My mom answered the phone...Before she could say anything I blurted, “Mom! Please don't hang up!”  

“How did you get back to Texas?” She asked.  

“A woman from the shelter who lives in Arlington, brought me here.”

“Why did you come back?”

“I need help. I want to get my life straightened out. Please.”

“I'm going to put your father on,” my mother said.  

“Wait mom! Please just talk to me first?” I pleaded.  

“You had a lot of nerve coming back to Arlington.” My dad's voice said, in anger.  

“Dad...” I said, trying to choke back tears...

“I don't want to hear your shit. I don't want to hear your, 'oh dad, please' bullshit manipulations.”

“I'm not trying to manipulate you dad! I'm trying to get my life straightened out and I can't do it on my own!” I pleaded.  

“You stole from us, you lied to us. You tried to use the military to manipulate me.” He said.

“I'm sorry for everything. I'm trying...I came back to say I'm sorry in person...So you can see I'm sincere!” I cried.  

“Dan...My mom said, re-entering the conversation.  

“No! No, you need to tell him what I decided because I'm done with this conversation. Tell him what we decided so we can be done with this.”

I heard a click of the phone as my dad got off, leaving me with my mom.  

“What, mom? What's going on?” I asked, confused.  

“Randy...We're removing you from our Will.” She said.  

I was confused. Removing me from the Will? I was 18 years old! The last thing I'd ever thought about was being in my parents Will, or what I'd get out of it. In my mind, and I'm sure in any kid's mind, I believed my parents would live forever.  

“I don't understand,” I said. “Are you saying you are so finished with me that you're removing me from the Will? As if I don't exist?”

Silence.  

“Mom?” I said, beginning to shake.  

“Yes.”

“Mom...I'm trying to do things right!” I said.  

“Get back on your feet...Show us, and we'll talk then.”

The phone clicked and my mom was gone. I stood there for a second and then when the phone made an electronic screeching sound, I hung it up and walked to the bathroom, entered a stall, and cried like I had never cried before in my life. My heart had broken completely in two, and the shattered vessel filled with an anger I'd never experienced before in my life. It scared me...I pushed it down as far as I could and hoped it would never rear its ugly face.  


 
Back to content