Gen. George S. Patton, The "Sarge" and the Retard.

Let me begin this way, NO ONE takes more offense to that last word than I do. I lived in group homes for people with mental retardation for nine years. So before anyone take offense, at least read the story.

This last Saturday I helped out in the kitchen down at St. John's Church on the corner of Second Street and Portage Trail. It was "soup kitchen" day.

The man who set this up 7 years ago and who still runs it is Pat Prinzo, the "Sarge".

Pat served under General George S. Patton. One of the Masters of Warfare. If you younger people want to see a masterful performance, rent PATTON from the video store.

Sarge tells me that George C. Scott gave a good performance, other than being 'SOFTER' than the real General.

Did the Sarge actually KNOW Ol Blood and Guts?

One of my favorite pictures, besides the one Patton peeing in the Rhine (not the famous photo, one taken at a different angle by the Sarge) is a picture of Patton in full dress uniform.

He is at the head of a table, surrounded by dignatries and brass. There in the corner, sits the only enlisted man in the photo, Pat Prinzo.

Yea, he not only knew the man, the man even liked him. Patton was fond of the cooks, he knew an army travels and fights better when fed.

Patton liked the Sarge.

One day it the middle of the Summer, with tempatures outside over 100 degrees, and much hotter in the kitchen, Sarge took off his helmet and leggings.

Just as luck (fate?) would have it, in comes the General.

"You've got 30 seconds Sargeant before you become a private" Then Patton left.

Pat never moved so fast to get those leggings and that hot metal helmet back on.

When the General came back through, he whispered in the Sarge's ear..."Stay in uniform Sarge or you won't only be a private, you'll be out of my army."

Now, Patton was known for being tough on his troops. Did Pat think less of the General"

He grumbled and moaned about it.

Then a few months later the Sarge took a bullet to the head. Actually to the helmet.

If the helmet hadn't been on, Pat would have either been dead, or would have become a human vegetable.

To this day, Pat Prinzo is grateful for his life and the Hard Corps general who wouldn't even bend the rules for someone he liked.

Patton was indeed a Master.

If the Sarge had not been wearing that helmet, some 56 odd years ago on some blood covered battelfield on the other side of the world, then our little corner of the planet would have suffered a great loss.

Pat is a member of the local VFW. He is President of the local Italian-American club. He is actively involved in his church and in our Community.

Pat retired from Goodyear, where he had run the Executive Dining room. There he was again surrounded by the Brass and the Suits.

Doing a great job.

I've had the pleasure and priveledge to work with Pat, the Sarge, on many occassions. He likes me to lift up the pots and pans. I try to tell him I'm no spring chicken myself, and he just rolls his eyes.

The Sarge has lived in the same house for over 40 years, married to the same women for over 50. Raised a family. Worked hard.

Went through hard times, especially when one of his children got hooked on drugs. That was an especially hard time.

But through it all, he worked hard, and did it with a pleasing and professional demeanor.

You won't find a single person in Cuyahoga Falls that would say one word against the man.

He is a MASTER of living life to it's fullest, working hard and sharing. A man I admire and respect more than all the Masters I talk about here.

You have heard of General Patton. Until today, unless you live near by, you have never heard of the Sarge.

But look around your neighborhood, your little piece of the planet and you will see the true masters everywhere.

Like Jerry.

Jerry the RETARD.

As I was entering the supermarket last night, I overheard two young girls make that remark.

They were referring to the bag boy. They were smirking and giggling about Jerry the Retard.

I stopped them.

"Girls," I said, "someday you MAY outgrow your stupidity, I hope so."

"But Jerry didn't ask to be that way, did he? Jerry has done nothing to offend you, or he has never said anything hurtful to you, has he?"

I didn't give them time to answer.

"Jerry the RETARD as you call him has feelings. He gets hurt just the same as you and I do. He is a lot more like us than he is different from us. I hope someday you'll understand that, and let me be the first to tell you this, when you call people like Jerry a retard, it only demonstrates your own ignorance."

"Think about it, you aren't IGNORANT girls are you?"

Then I went in the store. Had a couple of items to buy, milk and bread I think.

Went to the checkouts, and the girl in the speed lane, the one where you go with 12 items or less waved for me to come over.

I said, "No thanks, I'll go through this line."

It was the longest line in the store, even though other registers were open.

It was Jerry's line.

Jerry has that typical look of a PERSON we label mentally retarded, the round chubby face, sloped shoulders.

Jerry wears big black rim glasses. He has a neat bow-tie on. He looks sharp.

And he packs your groceries EXACTLY the right way, so when you get home, all the canned goods are together, all the frozen foods.

Jerry does a great job packing. Then he offers to take your groceries out. No matter if you are man or women, young or old, have one bag or thirty.

He always offers.

Jerry has been packing for 11 years now. A few years ago the manager offered him a salary increase and a 'better' job trimming the fruits and vegetables in the produce department.

Jerry said with a wry grin, "No thanks, I don't like to be around vegetables, I been there done that at the workshop." Then he laughed.

The manager got the joke.

Jerry has been called a vegetable. A retard. You name it, Jerry has heard it all.

And if ever an idiot says it to his face, he has a standard answer,

"That may be your opinion, but it's not God's"

And goes about his business.

Jerry looked up and saw me standing in line. He gave me one of those great big smiles.

Then he packed my two items and asked me if I needed help taking them to my car. I said "Of course."

Jerry is a Master. He does what few of us could ever do. A repetive boring job, and he excels at doing it.

He has never missed a day of work. It is that IMPORTANT to him. He always has a smile, a hug if you will allow it.

Usually a corny joke he just heard.

Almost EVERYONE loves Jerry. Except the occassional ignorant person that doesn't know any better.

I am a student of the masters. But truthfully, my favorites are right here in my hometown. Voices you'll never hear. Names you will never know.

These are my champions, my heroes. My mentors and the Masters I learn from.

Jerry has been working for 11 years. But the manager didn't want to hire him. He was afraid.
He was concerned. He had never had a 'retard' work for him before.

He had to be persuaded. He had to be sold.
He had to be educated.

I am glad I was there that day 11 years ago, to continue to make the sell. The words of my Sales Masters echoing in my ears,

"The sell begins when the customer says no."

The manager said NO a dozen times before Jerry got the job.

Everytime I see the manager he THANKS me for sending him the best employee he has ever had.

I always say, "Don't thank me, thank Jerry, he's doing all the work."

I talk about human potential here. And about fulfilling your dreams. And of contribution.

I speak of Masters. But I tell you this sincerely,

It is all about people, like the Sarge,

like Jerry,

like you.

Today I just wanted to share the names of a couple of other masters I know.

If anyone reading is impressed by name dropping. If you want to know the kind of people in my circle. If you want me to tell you the names of "my crowd", the names of the masters, then here you go, I'm going to do some name dropping,

Pat Prinzo, the Sarge, Jerry the bagboy, and
Bob Heath (I'll tell you his story later).

You should be impressed, I know I am.

Gordon (Student of the TRUE masters) Alexander