Taunts Wear On Man, 28, Adoptive Mom
Joe Peterson doesn’t know why the teenage boys spread rumors about him that poisoned his new neighborhood and soured him on Coeur d’Alene.
“I keep a list in my brain of people to stay away from,” he says, a frown drawing his thick, brown eyebrows together.
Joe is different from other 28-year-olds. He’s the size of a second-grader - 50 inches tall, 59 pounds - with an adult’s whiskery face. His voice is high, his self-control low. His brain quit growing with his bones - his IQ is 85. Like a kindergartener, he craves hugs, says inappropriate things and acts on impulse.
Joe could work but doesn’t because he can’t find a part-time job. His mother, Elsa, fusses over him as if he’s a child and says he doesn’t have the stamina for full-time work.
Elsa began caring for Joe when he was 1. She adopted him when she was 51 and single. He was 7. His medical problems were so severe, his birth mother couldn’t handle them. Elsa was a pediatric nurse.
Elsa and Joe lived happily in Boston, where she ran a day care. They moved to Coeur d’Alene in 1989 to be near Elsa’s sister, and were happy until 1993.
They moved that year into a new home near Lake City High, and some boys cleaning up construction work in the neighborhood discovered Joe.
He was funny-looking, had an annoying voice and was quick to anger. The kids taunted him, called him a shrimp, gay. They probably had no idea he was 28. Joe was easy prey.
Joe says some construction workers joined in the harassment. They apparently didn’t like Joe collecting castoff items from work sites in his red wagon. One worker suggested Joe drink rat poison.
The situation worsened when Joe sold to a worker some X-rated magazines a houseguest had left him years ago. Elsa admits she should have stopped him, but she didn’t know Joe still had them. She says neighbors read the situation wrong and pegged Joe a pervert.
Some neighbors say they hadn’t heard about the magazines. But they’d heard the rumors, seen Joe and told their children to steer clear of him for peace of mind.
“I don’t like the looks of him,” one neighbor says, admitting that Joe makes him uncomfortable for reasons he can’t pinpoint. “I think it’s better for my son to stay away from him.”
Then, vandalism started two years ago. A chunk of concrete was thrown at Elsa’s car. Next, a potted plant was hurled at the door; her new dogwood tree was broken at the base; and, last spring, fireworks exploded with bomb force in the front yard.
“Oh, it’s just been awful,” Elsa says, laying her hand on her cheek. She tries in vain to keep Joe in the house. He doesn’t listen to his unassertive, 72-year-old mother.
They suspect kids are behind the vandalism. A carload of teens periodically cruises the street shouting insults at Joe. For now, the vandalism is on hold, but the kids were back last week and just as rude. Neighbors aren’t hostile but are distant. Elsa doesn’t know what to do.
She and Joe have told their story to police, a lawyer, human rights activists. Police take reports. Others sympathize. Joe has no police record.
He wants to go back to Boston, where different wasn’t scary. Elsa thinks people don’t realize how handicapped Joe is or they’d give him a break.
“It’s so unfair of them to judge him on hearsay, rumors, malicious gossip,” she says. “They don’t really know Joey.”
Rockin’ the stage
“Jesus Christ Superstar” opens at the Lake City Playhouse Wednesday, but go Saturday. Money from that performance will go to St. Vincent de Paul’s homeless shelters. Tickets are $10 at the St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Store in Coeur d’Alene.
Spring’s sprung
Buttercups are up on Tubbs Hill, and all’s right with the world. What other signs of spring are out there? Share them with Cynthia Taggart, “Close to Home,” 608 Northwest Blvd., Suite 200, Coeur d’Alene, ID 83814; FAX to 765-7149; or call 765-7128.