“Mr. Bartlett,” the voice on the phone said, “this is Ian’s principal. Ian has run off.” My face turned white and we hurried up to the school. The principal met us as we pulled up.
“Ian’s OK,” she smiled. “We found him.” We both breathed a sigh of relief and followed the principal to a meeting with other teachers and a police officer. Although he was safe, we didn’t want a next time. We debated different measures to prevent a recurrence of what the experts called elopement.
Ian began eloping about a year earlier when he started a solo walk around the block. Still pre-verbal at age 4, he decided to take a stroll. He slipped out of our fenced and gated backyard and marched off. We soon noticed that he was missing and started a desperate search. Of course, we called the police and were told that an officer had a small child at the high school near our home. We rushed down and met Ian and the officer in the parking lot.
“A city worker found him walking on the sidewalk and called us,” he said. “Has he done this before?”
“No,” I answered, “he’s autistic and this is the first time he’s done this.”
At our meeting, we decided that Ian would be constantly accompanied by a paraprofessional and would never be allowed to be alone again.
“Have you had any more trouble with Ian’s elopement?” I asked Rita, Ian’s teacher, at our next conference. Rita laughed softly.
“Not a bit,” she answered. “I noticed that he likes girls. I just sat him next to one and I make sure he walks next to one inside school. This nailed his wandering feet to the floor and it hasn’t happened again.”
I don’t think good teachers get paid enough.
William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.