Connor's Big Pirate Adventure

Hello Freedomphiles!  Sam Bellamy was a pirate.  A generous and merciful captain, he was called "Black Sam" because instead of the powdered wigs that were all the rage in the early 18th Century, he just simply tied his onyx-black hair back in a simple ponytail.  Because of his good nature, he was called "The Prince of Pirates," and his men called themselves "Robin Hood's Men."

In "The Golden Age of Piracy," pirates were stateless quasi-libertarians, rebelling against what they saw as the unfair class system that forced the poor and unconnected to live and toil at the whims of the aristocracy.  Sailors were treated harshly by the companies that employed them - overworked and underpaid, treated much like chattel.

But on board their ships, all were equal.  Captains only held ultimate authority in battles, and everything else was voted on by the crew, who all had equivalent suffrage, regardless of age, race, or gender.  On Bellamy's ship, the Whydah Galley, there were blacks, Indians, and even one child - John King, a runaway of nine to eleven years who impressed Bellamy enough to be made a permanent member of the crew.  None were put above any other.

Bellamy was in love with a beautiful Cape Cod girl named Maria Hallett, but her parents were loathe to give her to an lowly, impoverished sailor.  So, he set off from New England to make his fortune salvaging shipwrecks on the sea.

Unsuccessful, Bellamy "went on account" as a pirate under Captain Benjamin Hornigold and Captain Edward "Blackbeard" Teach (at right).  He was well-regarded by the crew for his kindness and generosity, and soon, irritated at Hornigold's unwillingness to raid British ships, the crew deposed their captain and voted Bellamy his replacement.  Hornigold retired from piracy, and Blackbeard went his own way, leaving Black Sam as the sole captain of the Mary Anne.  

The crew of the Mary Anne thrived under his command, and they captured The Sultana.  He named his friend Paul Williams (not Little Enos from Smokey and the Bandit) captain of the Mary Anne and took the Sultana as his flagship.

His greatest accomplishment, though, was in the capture of his greatest flagship, The Whydah Galley, an impressive, 300 ton slave ship from Britain, filled to the brim with five tons of gold, treasure, and pieces of eight.  

True to his nature, Bellamy neither killed nor stranded the Whydah's captain, Lawrence Prince, instead generously giving him the Sultana in exchange.  Now a wealthy man, he set sail for New England to claim his prize - Maria Hallett.

Tragically, Bellamy never made it to his lady love, as The Whydah Galley and The Mary Anne were caught in a brutal storm off the coast of Cape Cod, where they capsized and sank, leaving only nine survivors.  A good captain till the end, Bellamy went down with his ship.  Young John King died in the wreck, as well.  Legend has it Hallett watched the ship sink from shore, and was devastated to find her love had perished.

Life was not good for the nine survivors, either, as six were executed for piracy, the damnable irony being that they had actually been pardoned by King George, but the news would not reach Boston until three weeks after their deaths.  Of the three remaining survivors, two were acquitted due to puritan minister Cotton Mather convincing the courts they were pressed against their will into service, and the Indian, sixteen-year old John Julian, was sold into slavery.

Blackbeard threatened to burn Boston to the ground if they executed the men, and was only thwarted in his attempt by the last minute arrival of a British warship.  Instead, he took his rage out on the ships of New England, not capturing them but viciously attacking them and letting them burn at sea.

Soon, the Golden Age of Piracy would come to an end.

I know all of this because of my six-year old son, Connor.  He has Asperger's Syndrome, a form of Autism marked by impaired social and physical development, as well as very narrow and intense interests.  One of those interests, since he was two-years old, has been pirates, particulary Black Sam Bellamy and The Whydah.  He loves them, and therefore has given me an almost master's degree level education on them.

All this went through my mind as I travelled down Highway 40 in Saint Louis, on my way to my job loading radioactive medical supplies onto planes at a small airport in Illinois.  It was there that I saw the all-too familiar logo from his favorite book on Bellamy, the salvage of The Whydah, and the only real pirate treasure ever found printed onto a billboard high in the sky.

I frantically stumbled for my cell phone and turned down whatever punk rock or talk radio that had been blaring throughout the cabin of my Honda Civic.  I called my wife and said excitedly, "You are not going to believe this.  I just saw a billboard that said there is an exhibit at the Science Center called Real Pirates, and the font looks exactly like it does on Connor's book.  It even has the skull and crossed-swords, with the crack right above the skull's left eye.  You don't think this is about The Whydah, do you?"

She immediately whipped out her laptop and did a Google search.  "Oh my God, Rick - it is."

"We're going," I said, recalling the words of Jules Winnfield.  "That's all there is to it - we're fucking going."

This was big, and I knew it.  They had everything - cannons and muskets, a scale replica of The Whydah big enough to walk around in, the great bell from the deck, real treasure from the salvage.  They even had the shoe, silk stocking, and fibula of John King.  This was going to take Connor's obsession out of the mind and plop it right in front of him to touch, taste, and smell.  He was quite simply going to piss himself.

This was very important to us, because we feel that when you have an Aspie child, working hard to strengthen them in areas where they are deficient is only half the battle.  The other half - the more neglected half by teachers, therapists, and parents - is encouraging those areas where their disorder has given them strength.  

Because of Aspie kid's unique focus and narrow interests, they are able to collect and organize a mind-boggling amount of information about the subjects that interest them, in incredible detail.  

This is what has helped Temple Grandin to revolutionize the meat-processing industry and make the practice of slaughter infinitely more humane than it would have been without her.  This is what made Thomas Jefferson able to aggregate and elucidate the philosophy of The Enlightenment into a cohesive plan for self-governance.  This is what gave Einstein his great focus to immerse himself in the mysteries of the universe, filtering them through the science of physics to form the Theory of Relativity.

It is our greatest job as parents of Aspie children to discover their particular talents and create an environment where they are free and encouraged to explore them, to cultivate the skills to find ways to apply them practically and enrich the world and themselves.

So, we quickly decided to keep all of this a secret from Connor.  We wanted to simply pick him up from school on my next payday and take him on a surprise adventure.

The day couldn't come quickly enough for us.  Every time he mentioned Bellamy or the Whydah - hell, every time we were in the same room with him - we just wanted to blurt it out and tell him everything.

Somehow, we managed to keep it a secret until the day before the big adventure.  We wanted him to be in school, excitedly waiting for the day to end, so he could see what this big surprise was.  It was also convenient because, like many Aspie kids, he has problems with the potty, particularly the part about telling us he has to poop before he drops a deuce in his pants, and that week he hadn't had a single accident.

So, the night before the big day, as I was snuggling with him and reading to him about pirates, I said, as means of reinforcement, "You know, Buddy, you've been great this week.  You haven't had a single accident, and Mom and I are really proud of you.  So, tomorrow, when we pick you up from the bus stop, we're going to go on an adventure.  And I know you are going to love it."

He begged me to tell him what it was.  He pleaded.  He put his hands in front of his mouth like he was praying and gave me his best imploring look.  He even bordered on being really upset, at which point I almost gave in.  But I held firm, and the next day, we got in the car to go meet him at the bus stop.

We recently moved, and where we live now is on another bus route from school.  But Connor had great affection for his amazing bus driver, Sue Anne, who he calls Chicago because that's where she's from.  We knew that trying to take her away from him would have caused him a lot of distress, so I worked out a place and time to meet her everyday.  For her part, she was very gracious about this.

As I sat in the parking lot, anxiously awaiting his return, the big yellow bus pulled in and stopped next to my car.  I ran up and jumped in the doors, saying like a ringmaster, "Are you ready?!?"  He grinned ear to ear and ran out of the bus, throwing himself excitedly into the backseat.

He was definitely ready.

Our first stop was our favorite sandwich shop, Jersey Mike's.  If you haven't tried it, go now.  It's delicious.  While we were there, we were behind a police officer.  Connor looked at his belt and said, "That's a pistol.  It's a long-range weapon.  And that's a baton.  It's a close-combat weapon."

The cop turned and gave us a bemused look.  "He loves cops," my wife said.  "His aunt and uncle are cops."  The officer smiled benevolently and winked at Connor.

After our bellies were full, we were back on the road, headed for the Science Center.  The closer we got, the more excited I became.  I couldn't wait to see his face light up with the realization of what he was about to see.

As we neared our destination, Connor saw the sign.  "Real pirates!" he squealed with delight.  "Sam Bellamy and the Whydah Galley?"

"Maybe," my wife replied.  "Is that something you'd like to see?"

"Yeah, and the Whydah Galley bell?  That's like the Liberty Bell.  They're both broken."

"Yes, they are," I confirmed as we parked.

We got out and ran up to the front of the building.  That's where he saw the planetarium and its huge dome stretching up into the sky.  It was if I could feel a tremor in the force as something about it started freaking him out.  "I don't want to go up there."

No, no, no, I thought desperately, not now.  Please not now.  "Don't worry, Buddy," I tried to reassure him, "We're not going up there.  That's just where they project images of the stars.  We're going to see the Whydah exhibit."

"I changed my mind," he said, fear creeping into his voice.  "I don't wanna go."

"Don't you want to see the Whydah bell?" I asked encouragingly.

"No, that's okay." he responded, his body tensing in preparation for a little therapeutic spinning.

I had to make this stop before it became a full-blown meltdown.  I didn't want his fear to keep him from this experience.

"How about if I go in and take some pictures?" my wife suggested, moving toward the door with her cell phone out.  "Then you can see its no big deal."

"No, no, no, don't go, Mom," he pleaded, clutching at me like a life preserver as we sat on the bench outside the Science Center.

This was no good.  When he gets like this, you can't really reason with him.  Normally, I just avoid situations like this when he gets the fear, but this was too important.  He would love this, if he'd just screw up the courage to cross the threshold.

My wife leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Just pick him up and carry him in."

It was the moment of truth.  This could go one of two ways - I would pick him up and march right through the doors and he would freak out for sure, either completely or just until he realized nothing was going to hurt him.  It was a gamble, but I thought it was worth the risk.

I scooped him into my arms and started moving toward the door, saying in low, calm tones, "It's okay, Buddy.  You're going to be fine.  There is nothing to be afraid of in there."

He wrapped around my torso like a boa constrictor, screaming, "I don't wanna go!  Turn around!  Please, Daddy, turn around!  I wanna go home!"  It was breaking my heart, at least until he added, "I wanna go back to the county!"  Then, I had to turn my head so he didn't see me holding in the laughter.

An uptight, judgmental bitch gave my wife a dirty look over his "tantrum," and she gave it right back, saying snidely, "He's autistic."  The woman sheepishly turned away, embarrassed.  Moments like that are oddly satisfying, because as the parent of an autistic child, you get a lot of dirty looks from people who think your child is just a spoiled brat.

I rushed him across the bridge that spanned Highway 40, and we stopped on the other side by some hands-on displays of structural experiments, road construction, and trains.  This was right in his wheelhouse, and we hoped it could bridge the gap between his fear and the pirate exhibit.

It was good for me, too, cause the kid is a monster, weighing in at over 70 pounds, and my back was really angry with me.

We let him play for awhile, hoping that refocusing him would make him forget his original terror.  He took special interest in a display that showed how different construction techniques would help a skyscraper survive an earthquake because ever since the Haiti earthquake, he's been fascinated with natural disasters.

After a few minutes, we suggested moving further in to the Science Center, and while he was afraid, we were able to lead him by the hand without him freezing up.  I went to get tickets, while my wife tried to find something to occupy him.

It was ten till two, but I got tickets for the 2:30 show, thinking I'd need time to coax him in.  But when I found my wife, she had him mostly convinced to go.  So, I went up to the girl at the door and explained the situation, asking if we could go in early.

She smiled and said, "Hang on a second.  Let me stop them from starting the movie."  She called in on her two-way and they held it for us, and then she said, "Just let me know when you are ready."

It seems for every judgmental douchebag out there, there is also someone awesome like this girl, willing to go the extra mile to help when needed.  I can't say enough good things about the staff at the Saint Louis Science Center.


We practically dragged him into the darkened theater, but once he was there and saw The Whydah on screen, he settled in nicely.  We learned quickly that we had been saying the name of the ship wrong.  We had been saying "Wyyyda," when it was really called the "Whih-duh."

The disembodied voice of the narrator began, speaking of "Black Sam," and Connor cracked up the whole theater by asking in that unregulated volume typical of an Aspie: "Why is he called Black Sam, when his skin-tone is white?"

When the movie finished, the screen raised, reavealing a dark hallway to the exhibits.  This was problematic for Connor, because long, shadowy hallways give him the wiggins.  But he was very brave and went with us to see the exhibits.

He got to touch real pirate treasure, saw John King's leg bone, went (with some trepidation) onto the scale model of The Whydah, saw real flintlock pistols and muskets from the ship, and he even got to hoist the Jolly Roger.

In the end, it was a great day.  As with any day with an Autistic child, there were challenges, but there are challenges with any kid.  And the payoff for patience and perseverance is great.