a little more....

Jack sat in his deck-chair and pondered on the problem for hours. Surely if she could remember the things that had delighted her so long before, it was possible that there was something equally horrific locked away in that mind.If they could find it and destroy it surely, surely...? She had found that water did her no harm when she fell in the puddle. Sand had become fun after she had been tipped from her trolly headlong into it. His mind turned the problem over and over again. There must be a key somewhere. if they could find it, then they could unlock the door to that troubled mind. But what was it? Was he clutching at straws? Was there no real significance in the water and sand?

If men and women so expert in ways of backward children could not find the solution, what chance had he, an engineer? but he was her father. She was part of him. His flesh and blood. why, you only had to look at her, golden-haired and blue-eyed and browned by the sun. she was perfect. There had to be a way. There HAD to be something.

by the time Jack had roused himself from his reverie the tide was almost at their feet and his unpredictable daughter hardened the thoughts that had been growing hin his mind. She ran into the water and scooped up great handfuls, laughing with delights. That was not the action of a cabbage. She was reacting the way any normal child would in the sun-dappled sea.

The following day she also did something that any normal little girl can do. She got her brother into trouble. Leslie had spent a long time building his sand castle - complete with moat and water - and Ann jumped on top of it. In a rage the little boy picked up a bucket filled with wet sand and threw it at Ann. It missed. But it didn't miss the man sleeeping a few feet away in a deck-chair. The san caught him full in the face. That little bit os sisterliness cost leslie a smacking.

Then on the last day something happened that they had dreaded for years. Ann lost "dolly." Wrapped up in the delight of sand and sea she had put it down for the first time in her life and when it was time to go home no one could find it. It was gone for ever, buried somewhere in that vast tract of golden sand They waited with dread for the moment when realisation hit Ann. But that moment never came. No screams, no tantrums. Nothing. It was as though "dolly" had never been. In a way the end of "dolly" was the end of an era, but even today this is not one member of the family who does not remember that ancient bottle and teat with affection. Everyone, except Ann, that is. she just laughs with delight when they tell her of her affection for "dolly."

They arrived home from that golden holiday more relaxed than they had ever been since Ann was born. The feeling that some kind of breakthrough was near filled their minds. They couldn't explain it, but the feeling was there. How or when it would come they hadn't a clue. They just knew they were tottering on the edge of something wonderful.

It came in the middle of the night. As Jack lay tossing and turning in his bed thoughts and dreams of Ann flickered through his half-sleeping mind. Then a voice whispered a word. Violence., violence, violence,. VIOLENCE he shouldted, and I vy sat up fully awake.

Jack was sitting up too, he eyes glittering with excitement. The words tumbled over themselves in the rush to get out, but his mind was crystal clear. Violence was the answer, he told Iv. It had been accidental violence that had ended Ann's fear of the sand and water. Now if they were to use deliberate violence - by smacking her every time she did something they did not want her to - would it not have the same effect, and cure her of her fears? Ivy was horrified at the idea. They were not prone to smacking their children, and neither of them had ever raised a hand in anger to their daughter. Never.

Might it not have exactly the opposite effect and put her even deeepter into her dark little world, she asked. but Jack was determined and persuasive. He had had a vision, a dream, call what you like, but he had seen so clearly in his mind's eye that the answer to Ann's problems. He was sure he had found the key. Surely Ivy would not deny him the chance of unlocking the door? They had tried all sorts of conventional ways to get through to their child for the past seven years. None of them had worked. Surely they were not going to let this, perhaps the last chance pass them by. Ivy was not over-convinced so they compromised. They would try it out over one particular issue. If it failed they would not try it again. They would forget it, and never even talk about it.

They agreed to try it on Ann's eating habits. Up to that point the only way they could feed her was to bring her in her little chair to the table, and force feed her from a spoon. she would not hold a spoon in her hand. When she had enough to eat she spat the rest out like a baby. buscuits, bread and sweets had to be put between her lips, and when she required a drink that, too, was forced into her mouth.

Jack decided to start the very next day at dinnertime. Ivy spent a long time in the kitchen preparing the meal. she knew they ad to go through with but she thought her heart would break.

First Jack took a straight-backed chair and place it at the table. Then ignoring his daughter's screams he picked her up from her own little chair and sat her firmly in the dining chair. Ivy served the meal, took one look at her daughter and shut herslef in the kitchen, a handkercheif between her teeth to stifle her sobs as she heard Jack smacking Ann to stop her struggling.

Their bewildered sons fled to Ivy after watching in horror as the father acted in a way they had never seen before. But the smacks worked. Anns eyes opened wide and she stopped screaming. Jack picked up her spoon and forced it into her hand. she screamed again and the thre the spoon down. He slapped her. Hard. He picked up the spoon again and put it in her hand. She thre it down again and got another slap.

Again the screaming stopped. Jack picked up the spoon again and forced it once more into her hand. Sweat was running down his forehead. He made her diop the spoon into the meal and forced it to her mouth. She spluttered and screamed, but she swallowed most os it. Every time she resisted her slapped her. Slowly the screams ended and he managed to force more food into her mouth from the spoon held in her own hand. Tears were blinding him. They mised with the sweat that ran in rivers down his face, dripping off the end of his nose. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. He had started something and he was determined to finish it.

By the end of the meal Ann Hodgess had fed herself for the first time. She was just over seven years old. Biscuits had been put in her hand and forced into her mouth. Every time she had tried to throw them away shw was smacked. But the screaming had stopped.

Jack picked up his daughter and put her back in her little chair. Ivy and the boys were standing in the kitchen doorway. Ivy's eyes were bright with tears and the boys had eyes like saucers.

And the, as Ann sat rocking in her little chair, tears - REAL tears - started to tricle slowly down her cheeks. Ivy couldn't stop herself, she ran over and hugged her beloved child. And although Ann struggled, it wasn't nearly as vehemently as before. Jack and Ivy held hands. They looked at each other, smiling through their tears and Jack kissed her. They boys, not really understanding but aware that something wonderful had happened, came over and hugged their parents. And they all stood looking at that sobbing little girl. It was the most wonderful moment of their lives. They were a complete family. Ann had joined them at last.

Now there was no time to be lost. Jack took a week off work and continued his heart-breaking system of getting Ann to feed herself. They brought in a reminement. Every time she did it correctly they gave her cuddle. By the end of the third week the cuddles were more frequesnt than the smacks. They had won the battle. Ann was now feeding herself from the spoon, although she insisted on sniffing every spoonful before putting it in her mouth. In their ignorance Jack and Ivy Hodges had broken down that first barrier. They had found the key they had so long searche for. In fact, they had unwittingly stumbled on what is now considered an effective method of training autistic children - reward and punishment.

But on that day in 1959 they did not know this. They were desperate peoople who had resorted to desperate methods because of their love for their daughter. As they extended the method over the next few months they were too ashamed to tell anyone what they were doing. They were sure that ousiders would consider them cruel and heartless.

MORE OF CHAPTER 2 LATER