Robert Lauten

Aubrey LowryEnlarged view of Aubrey Lowry

Transcript

Okay, we’ll just start out by your saying your name, where you live, where you grew up and a little bit about your family.

 

Okay.  My name is Robert Lauten.  I grew up here in Lawrenceville  and I made it through Twelfth Grade.  I have two brothers, two sister-in-laws and a couple of nieces.


I’m living in Carrick, cause my house caught on fire and I’m remodeling it.

 

I was born in my mom’s fourth month. Doctor’s Hospital in Pittsburgh.  I weighed less than a pound-and-a-half. A year later, cause the doctors told my parents that I wouldn’t live past three hours.  And the old Sun Tele wanted to do a story on it, and my dad said, “If he lives to be a year old, you can come to his birthday,” and when I turned a year old, they were there.  And they did a whole story on it.

 

When you graduated from high school, what did you do?

 

I went to Johnstown Rehabilitation Center, and they taught me small business management, how to run a small business, and then when I left there and tried to go to these stores to get a job, nobody would lower the cash registers or anything that would be at my level because they said, “Once you’re done with your shift, nobody else is going to be able to use it, so it’s not feasible.” 

 

So, therefore, I didn’t have a job, so I went and one year I saw a thing in the newspaper to volunteer for Salvation Army and I rang a bell for them for twenty-five years.

 

Did you 


That was seven days a week during the holidays, and after that, I did it three days a week for them, during the year.  It was classified as a volunteer job because of me being on disability.  They gave me enough money to buy my lunch and stuff.  So I chose not to buy lunch and just keep the money.

 

So you did get out and what did you do after the Salvation Army?

 

I started helping the football team.  The North Side Saints football team, and then when they switched over to the North Shore Stallions, I helped them for awhile.

 

So when you’re not doing this kind of stuff, what do you do?

 

Hanging out with friends and having a few beers, or whatever.

 

Oh, yeah, he was one of the first people to be in the newspaper about accessibility in the city. 

 

That’s because I’ve gotten pulled over too many times by the Police Department for riding on the street.  

 

But now, you live up in Brighton Heights.  Do you take the bus down to town?

 

Now I do, yeah.  But I used to ride from the North Side to Station Square and back, using the chair.  That was before they had the accessible buses.

 

So what’s been the hardest thing in your life?  What’s your biggest struggle been?

 

My mother.

 

Tell us about your mother.

 

She was a great lady, but in the beginning she was too protective, and if it wouldn’t have been for a great neighbor of ours, I wouldn’t have got as far, cause her neighbor, who is a good friend, used to take me over to her house and make me practice walking and doing all the stuff I was supposed to do, without my mother cringing and carrying on, and I thank the lady a lot.

 

I lived on Chislett Street.  My parents rented a house there and --  Then from there they moved to Stanton Heights, and then from there I moved out, sneakily, but I moved out.

 

My mother was going in for surgery, so I told her to make it easier on my dad, I was going to go stay with a friend for awhile while she was in the hospital, and while she was in the hospital I went and contacted Social Security and Welfare and got everything set up so I had an income, and then I rented an apartment, and by the time my mother got out of the hospital, she said, “Well you can come back now.”

I said, “No, I’ve got my own apartment, I’ve got….”
 
How did she take it?

 

She wasn’t too happy, but you know, she had to come and examine the apartment and examine me and everything.  We checked it out and I’ve been living on my own ever since.

They needed the money to pay for the condominium, and they said when they’re gone, it would be easier to sell the condominium and split it between the three boys than have us fight over who gets what.  Although I don’t think we would have….
 

So where was that first apartment?

 

Where was that first apartment?  The first one was in Crafton, the second one was more interesting.  That was on Federal Street, 11 Federal Street, from Riddle Rusfelt, and I learned a valuable lesson.  Moved into that apartment, it was nice.  Summer was great, it got cold and I’m looking around.  I had to call the landlord, I said, “Where’s the thermostat for the apartment?”

 

He said, “There is none.  You have to buy your own space heaters.”

 

I never knew you could sell an apartment without heat.

 

I think that’s illegal.

 

Well, I guess maybe in the early sixties, seventies, they didn’t have those laws, I don’t know.  But my parents were fit to be tied.  They said, “How in the world can you rent an apartment with no heat?”

I said, “Who in the world thinks to ask ‘Is there heat’?”

 

Is there running water?

 

So needless to say, I moved out of there real quick and moved into 15 Federal Street, which they put a high rise on the old 11 Federal Street.  I moved into a highrise and didn’t like it.

 

Oh, didn’t you, why not?

 

Cause I was twenty-one years old, single, and I would invite people in.  To me it was all right hours, but for the elderly people, it was too late and they would always come to the manager and complain, and I said, “You know, look, I’m twenty-one years old, I’ve got a lot of oats to sow, and I’m gonna do it, you know.  You don’t have any complaint with me.  I pay my rent, so be it.  Tell them to stay in their apartment.  And I also said if they want to join us, they’re more than welcome. 

 

But they didn’t like that, so I got too much grief and I moved out and I found a house and I ended up getting a house.

 

I used to go to Easter Seal Camp. 

 

That was a great camp.  Up in the Laurel Mountains.

 

Yeah, I loved it, yeah.

 

It was the best thing they ever did.

 

Back when I went you had to be walking.

 

I was, too.  The worst thing they ever did was put the cement sidewalks in.  I could have killed the person whose parents said, “I don’t want my kid going through mud.  I’ll pay for that.”  That was the worst thing they ever did, cause that camp made you feel like you were so-called normal, cause nobody would have thought that the disabled would be down in the woods, doing all the stuff we did, and it was fun.  And nobody cared if you fell and smacked your head.  They just told you, “Get up, start over again.”

 

The ADL law, in my mind, it has ruined it for a lot of handicapped people.

 

Why is that?

 

Cause it made things too easy.  Back when you and I were growing up, if you didn’t do it on your own, you were stuck at home and you never saw the outside world.  You know, but with the ADL Law, everything has to be adapted.  You know, you can go to college --  look, I can’t read very well or write very well.  That’s because back when I was going to school, they didn’t have somebody that said, “Oh, we’ll get you an aide to read for you or somebody to write for you.”  If you didn’t do it on your own, that was it.  And I think that ruined it for a lot of handicapped people, because now they all come out and they expect it to be done for them.

 

I think the new laws have made it too easy for the handicapped.  They don’t have to struggle any more.  They don’t have to realize, “What do I do if there’s not the ramp put there?”

 

Or before they had things of aides, I used to go out every morning.  I couldn’t put my shoes and socks on.  I would take a pair of shoes and socks, go out on Federal Street at like 8:30 in the morning, cause I knew that people would walk across the bridge, and I’d survey the people, I’d look and I’d find one that I figured would do it.  I’d stop them and I’d say, “Could you do me a favor and put my shoes and socks on for me?”

 

Most of the time I got somebody that would.  I got one guy that said, “No,” one time, and walked away, real nastily.

  Five minutes later he came back, handed me a twenty-dollar bill, send “I’m sorry,” and left.

 

And the next person said, “What was that about?”  I said I asked him to put my shoes and socks on.”

 

They guy said, “No problem, I’ll do it.”  He put them on and I went to work. 

 

That was before everybody thought I was having an aide, and, during the summer I was fine.  I didn’t need my shoes and socks, cause the store couldn’t stop me, cause I’m not walking.  There were a few stores that said, “You need to have shoes on.”

 

I said, “Well, I’m not walking on your floor, you know, doesn’t that mean anything?”

 

And the guy said, “Well, I guess so.  Go ahead.”

 

Those were the good old days.  I don’t know, I enjoyed it back then because it gave you more of an accomplishment if you achieved something on your own, than if it was handed to you, like now we have all the buses and we have ramps everywhere, and God forbid, if a building is put up and it’s not accessible, look what happens to the people.

 

So when did you decide to get your aide.   

 

I got older and things got a little harder to do, and I guess I gained a little weight, which meant I was having trouble lifting myself from out of the chair, and it got to the point where I needed the aide, and when Three Rivers Center started their Aide Program, I signed up with them for awhile, and now I’m with United Cerebral Palsy, but I do my own hiring, I do my own firing, and I like it that way.  Cause they even, like I know they have some programs where they want to check your aide for violent crimes or anything like that, but with mine, I usually don’t do that.  I want to interview them, and if they feel all right to me, I don’t care what somebody did in their past.  I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, and if somebody seems all right to me, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt, and if they don’t screw up, I’ll keep them, and if they mess up, they’re gone.

 

What are you proudest of?

 

What am I proudest of?  Nothing, really, cause there’s really nothing to be proud of.  I’m just living my life the way I think I should live it.  They only way somebody can say, “What are you proud of?” somebody’s life is the people that are there after you’re gone, cause they’re the only ones that are going to know what you really did all your life.

 

You’re not proud that you were able to survive all this, having been born at four months, and?

 

No, because that’s what God willed, and I’m just following along with, I’m riding the wave.  And when the wave stops, then I’ll worry about it.  I don’t consider things that happened to me in my life as a stumbling block.  I just think it’s another step in my life that I’m going through.  Cause for all I know, I can look down the road and see somebody worse off than me.  Look at all these people that are supposedly homeless, at least I have a roof over my head, the electric’s paid, the gas if paid, and I’m not out there with sign saying, “Please help me.”

 

Because to me the most important thing in having a house is to make sure your electric is paid.  For one reason:  Cause if it doesn’t run, I don’t run.

 

Well, I had stuff to do and I wasn’t staying home.  And I wasn’t paying all the fares of Access, cause to me to go there and have them say, “Oh, but we got to pick up this person first,” and then take them there and then take you there, I could be there before you even get there.  By just using my chair.  So I did it winter, summer --  winter was fun.

 

I don’t know how you did that.

 

I stayed on the road.  Because I’ll tell you what.  Even now, in the winter time, people don’t realize, okay, a streetworker comes by, shovels the road, right?  What do they do with the snow?

 

Put it up against the curb.

 

Put it up against the ramp cut.  It builds a little wall right there.  The only way you’re going to get through is to back up and floor the thing, and hope that the snow is soft enough to give.

 

Male interviewer:   Where did you get your spirit?  You said you mother is protective.

 

From my grandmother, I guess.  Well, my parents came out of the Concentration Camp, so they all had to have a little bit of gumption to survive it.  And I guess from that I got it, and from living with my grandmother,  we rented a house where there were like three floors.  The people on the first floor, they had it.  We had the second floor and my grandmother had the third floor.   And it had a lot of steps, and the only way I got in and out of that house was my brother’s fireman carry over his shoulder, drop your crutches, throw me over your shoulder, carry me up, my brother carried the crutches, got me up to the top of the steps, handed me my crutches, and said, “There you go.”

And in the house, if I was up on the second floor, I wanted to get down to the other floor, I lay down on my stomach and slide down on my stomach.

 

Where there’s a will, there’s a method that you can figure out for getting it done.  I used to figure it out for getting dressed.

 

My parents used to have them help me get dressed, and my brother said one day, “We’re getting too old for this, you’re getting too old for this.”  He handed me a shirt, he handed me a pair of pants, and said, “Here you go, figure it out.”  So I figured out how to put the shirt on.  Next thing I knew, I was going to my closet, I grabbed a coat hanger, stretched it out of shape and grabbed the belt loops of the pants, and spread my feet apart like this, and slid the pants on with the belt loops, till I got them enough that I could reach them.  But couldn’t figure out anything for my socks and shoes.  My brother said, “That I can do.  At least this way, if we’re not around, you can at least go out of the house.”

 

Are you a happy guy?

 

Yeah.  Why not?  I’m alive and I’ve got many more years to go.  I plan on living till over a hundred.

 

Who has had the biggest influence on your life?

 

There’s been a lot of people in my life.  And, oh, uh, one therapist, one teacher and one therapist.  The teacher, her name was Miss Cherry.  She was a real good teacher.  She realized I was having trouble with reading and spelling, and she told me, “You’re not going to make it, Bob, if you don’t do something.”  She said, “You need to get all your other teachers to bring you your  homework assignments early.  I’ll record them for you during my lunch hour, but I want you to promise that if I record them, you’ll go home at night, you’ll try to read it along with me, which will help you learn to read,” and without her I would have never made it through.

And there was a physical therapist called Miss Rat.  Her last name was Rat.  She was real good.  She came from the military, and she was a real strict therapist, and she would do your therapy, but she would do it in a way of like doing sports activities, so you never thought you were getting therapy, but having fun.  And she was really good, and she used to always tell you, “Nobody’s going to do it for you, you got to do it yourself.”  She goes, “If you’re going to wait for someone to do it for you, you might as well just sit at home.”

 I just wish more handicapped people would be more vocal, and don’t say to somebody, if somebody says, “Can I do that for you?” don’t say, “No, I can do it myself, and don’t be nasty because the next handicapped person may not be able to do that, and if you’re nasty to that person that offers to help, they’re not going to offer it to the next one, and that next one might need it more than you do.