Scott Goldstein's Memoir

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JULY, 1986
SCOTT'S RACING CAR  

By the summer of 1986, I was anxious to do something for Scott's birthday to reinforce the concept that he could do many things that other kids could do.  At this time, Scott was a counselor in training at the Dalton Summer Camp during the week and we would go away as many weekends as we could.  One day while browsing upstate in an automobile parts store, looking for a battery for our tractor, I spotted a five foot long "Formula 1" racing car with a gasoline engine.  It was painted blue with brightly colored numbers and decals on it.  By coincidence, Scott and I had been looking at small model racing cars for his birthday and Scott had a large collection of small two inch racing cars at home.  I was thrilled with excitement and after buying the racing car, at a surprisingly reasonable price, couldn't wait until it was delivered to the house in the country.  Scott wasn't there and the car was hidden in the garage, awaiting his arrival the following weekend.  

When we drove up to the country on the weekend of Scott's birthday, we hadn't told him about the racing car in order to surprise him.  I will always remember the broad smile on his face when we pulled directly into the garage, he woke up from his nap and got out of the car to face his brand new racing car and a motorcycle helmet and even a real fire extinguisher. That weekend, Scott, who had never driven anything other than our tractor before, excitedly got into his new racing car and drove off almost but not quite as if he had been driving for years.  He did crash it into a tree on his first go around and after some tears, got right back in and drove for hours until we ran out of gas.  I even bought a set of air force rescue color bright red pylons which we set up to make an oval racetrack in grandma's driveway.  All of us, even Rena, took turns that weekend and for the rest of the summer, driving Scott's racing car, which became one of his proudest possessions.  We look at videotapes even now, of Scott, with a big smile, proudly driving his racing car, in the summer of 1986.  

SEPTEMBER, 1986
SCOTT STARTS HIGH SCHOOL

I n the fall of 1986, Scott, with some apprehension, started his first year at the Dalton high school, located on East 89th Street between Lexington and Park Avenues in Manhattan.  No longer would he be taught by familiar teachers in the Dalton Middle School located on East 91st Street between Park and Madison Avenues.  He was going to a new building with new teachers and a new and more difficult curriculum.  As September drew near, Scott became more anxious.  Before he knew it, he was back in school and adapted quite well.  Soon he was preoccupied in doing homework and preparing for tests.  He was quite fond of some of his teachers, especially Mr. David Arnold, the Director of the Middle School who taught Western Civilization and Mr. John Beetar, Scott's homeroom adviser who also taught him French.  

SCOTT WRITES ABOUT HIS HERO

One day in early September, 1986, Scott came home from school and announced that he had a homework assignment from his English class.  He had to write a one page essay, entitled "My Hero".  He said that he didn't need any help with it; that he had already decided who he wanted to write about and what he wanted to say.  About a half hour later he came out of his room and handed me his essay, written about Alan Alda, the actor.  It is worth quoting:

"My Hero

My hero is Alan Alda.  Alan is a television and movie star.  I do not consider him my hero for his witty jokes, but for his experience.

As a child, Alan had the often fatal disease Polio.  Most people who survived were left crippled.  Luckily for him, he recovered without any apparent damage.  Unfortunately, years later, people who had been cured were suffering relapses.  Alan went on with his career and his life without worrying about the thought of getting relapses himself.  That is real courage to me.

This man having had a deadly disease as a child and living a life not worrying about his disease is a good example to me, a two times hospitalized student, each time risking my life.

In conclusion, my hero and I have a common link, deadly sickness.  He is a hero by teaching me to forget my ill past and look on to the future."

                                                                                s/ Scott  

I was able to get a copy of this essay into Alan Alda's hands and he wrote to Scott shortly thereafter:

"Dear Scott,

 

                Your dad passed on to me your essay on me as a hero.  It's kind of odd, though, to see myself referred to as a hero for just trying to get through life like anyone else.  You might feel odd yourself to be thought of as a hero for getting through the illnesses you have suffered and to still be cheerful and energetic - but I think you are a hero.  And I find that your courage inspires me. So from one hero to another, let me say thank you, keep up your courage, don't ever give up and don't ever stop laughing.

 

                                                                Sincerely,

                                                                  s/Alan Alda  

Alan Alda wrote to Scott and our family several times afterwards and sent an autographed picture to Scott which he proudly displayed on his desk.