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GOD WAKES THE GIANT

INTRODUCTION

The Little John Story

Hello and welcome. My name is John O’Connell, but everyone calls me “Jacky Boy”. I’ll first tell you a little about myself and why I qualify to narrate this sometimes funny, sometimes horrific, sometimes sad, and a lot that is unbelievable, story! It doesn’t matter if you believe Little John’s story is true or not. What’s important is, do you believe his story is happening to hundreds, if not thousands of people all around the word?

Like I said, I’ll tell you a little about myself, and the word small sums it up quite nicely. I’m 4 foot 10 inches tall and a twin. My look alike and I were separated when we were around 7 years old. My Father left home just after we were born and my Mother tried to keep the family together, but the odds were against her. She gave me to a nice couple in our home town, and my brother Robert to someone in another state.

I grew up in a cruel world. A place where I had to fight every day, just to survive. The term used to describe my childhood is “Street Kid”.

Note:
Did I tell you; I have been Little John’s best friend almost ten years now?

So, enough about little old me, let’s talk about Little John.

There are two reasons why God didn’t make life easy for Iggy. The first one is, He made him way too big, and way too heavy. And the second is, He made him too shy and too humble.

But, there is no kinder, loving caring person in this world.

Up to a point Little John rolled with the punches. Although he didn’t have a relationship with God, he knew right from wrong and that he should treat people like he would want to treated. Of course, the nicer he was, the more people took advantage of him.

I believe there is not a kinder, loving or caring person in this world. But there was a time when, he was not nice, because he felt everyone was against him. His family, neighbors, me and even God. His moto for a few years was “It’s just me against the world!”

Although he wasn’t proud of himself in those dark times, he always knew deep down in his heart that, he was a good person and hopefully, he would get a chance to prove it.

“Jacky Boy”

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE: A VERY TALL BOY
CHAPTER TWO: THE “BLACKOUT” CAR RACES
CHAPTER THREE: THE GLEASON BOY ABDUCTION
CHAPTER FOUR: A CAVE CALLED HOME
CHAPTER FIVE: ON THE RUN
CHAPTER SIX: THE CIRCUS CALLS
CHAPTER SEVEN: AN ENTERCOUNTER WITH GOD
CHAPTER EIGHT: A LIFE OF SERVICE

CHAPTER ONE

A VERY TALL BOY

Hi, Jacky Boy here again. As I said in the introduction, I’ll be telling this Little John Tallman story. For most of it, I’ll be using my great memory, and also the stories from Little John, his Father, his Mother, his sisters and anyone else who can contribute to this fascinating story.

Small Town USA (1956)
“First up is Little John to tell you about his beginning (from a baby) to a teenager (16 years) old. Although I’ve known Little John sense, we were 8 or 9 years old. He won’t mention me in this story. I don’t really come into the picture until we’re in our teens.”
I don’t talk must! I’m very quiet and shy. Most of the time, what I consider a whisper, everyone else within ten feet of my voice, say I sound very loud. Anyway, I’m going to talk about how everyone thinks I’m a freak of nature, and an embarrassment to my family.
I didn’t start out that way. And except for being a big baby, both in weight and length, I guess I looked as normal as any newborn. My parents showed me a lot of love, and even my four older sisters seemed to accept me, but that all changed drastically on my nineth birthday.
“My mother was so proud that she had finally given my father the son that he always wanted. He loved my sisters, but he wanted a boy to carry on his father’s name.”
My Dad often talked about my Grandfathers dying words, “Please promise me you will carry on the Tallman name.” Now look into my eyes and promise me. With love in his voice, he said, I promise Dad, you will have a grandson.” He looked at his father and saw a little smile come across his tired old face. Hearing him take one last breath, he watched him pass away peacefully.
My Mother would say, son, you’re getting bigger every day as she tried to put on my tight pajamas that only a week ago were too big for me. “I’ll have to start making your clothes; heaven knows, we can’t keep buying new things every week!” she sighed. “Besides, I don’t like the way that snooty Mrs. Bradshaw and her chatty daughter, who, by the way, must have been hiding when God was passing out looks and charm. She glares at me every time I go into their store to do my weekly shopping.” She shook her head as if to get rid of those unkind thoughts, and then she gave me one of her big beautiful smiles, leaned over, kissed me and said, “We’ll get by, like we always have.”
“Wakey, wakey, birthday boy,” my sister Elli called out, as she was making her way from the kitchen to my bedroom. Come to think of it, maybe bedroom was not the right term to use. With four growing sisters in a two-bedroom house, the only place to put me, the only boy, was in a big storage closet my Dad was someday going to convert into a workshop.
“Mom, come quick… something’s wrong with Little John!”
“Oh my God!” was the only thing my mother could say, as she dropped the plate she had just finished drying. With a look of horror and disbelief, she stared at what had been only eight hours before, her little boy.
My father came to the door, took one look at me, and I heard him say, “This can’t be happening to us. What did we ever do Lord, to deserve this awful curse? Where a little boy went to sleep, now lays a big, big little boy”.
“Thinking back, I must have looked a frightening sight to my shocked family.” “I can’t help thinking now, had this happened under different circumstances, everyone may have been laughing, or maybe not. I’m sure I must have looked a pitiful sight, lying there on the floor, completely covering the small child’s bed with my enormous, fat, ugly body.”
My father questioned his fate and wondered what he should do. He spent many days hoping someone would give him an answer to this overwhelming problem.
“I’m sure he thought, but didn’t say, this is sure to break up our happy family.”
“I’m not going to school with him, anymore!” shouted my oldest sister Katy, and my other sisters loudly agreed with her. I’m so embarrassed and ashamed to face my friends, knowing they’re laughing at me. He just keeps getting bigger and bigger. “It’s just not fair!”
This was the day my life changed forever. There I was lying on my back on the cold floor listening to my family quarrel. I started to cry, “I knew this was not going to be the last time I would feel totally alone.” My ‘Happy Birthday’ had just turned into a nightmare. This wasn’t the first day or my last as a ‘freak’.
I didn’t go to school or even out that much. It was not me I felt sorry for, it was my family. They were paying the price for things they did not understand or want. I guess they were as much a prisoner in their world, as I was in mine. I remember one of my sisters asking my mother if she could go outside and play? We were having summer-like weather and she missed her friends. I could see the look on my mother’s face, because she knew the girls didn’t have a lot of friends anymore, but neither did her and Dad. My parents had given up on most of their friends and vowed they would not have their home turned into a three-ring circus.
Many adults shunned my parents in public, and this hurt them very much, but it was the neighborhood children who were the cruelest.
“Things never got better for my sisters, especially at school,” so Mom became our teacher. Although the school board gave her a hard time, they eventually gave in when they saw our grades were as good, if not better, then they had been under their supervision.”
City dwellers coined the expression “Get A Real Life” to describe the lives of small-town folk. If you come from, or have spent any time in a small town, you know what I mean. Anything can be used for a gathering or a celebration, for example: the installation of a new stop sign or a traffic light could draw a small crowd, but the once-in-a-lifetime viewing of a four-story skyscraper, “now that’s a reason for a full parade, plus a two-day holiday.” “But nothing, and I mean nothing, can compare to having your own homegrown giant.”
I know many of the locals were embarrassed by having a freak in their midst. However, once the big city newspapers started using the local media for breaking news stories, everyone wanted to get in on the act. Our house soon became the center of full-blown social events. One enterprising neighbor even tried to sell front row seats, but the view from his property was obstructed by people who were standing on the road, the sidewalk, or any other place where there was a couple of inches not being used. The crowd waited sometimes for hours to get a glimpse of a family member, or maybe if they were lucky, they would see me, the “Giant!”
Sadly, what the crowd of people didn’t realize was that being at the center of such media scrutiny meant, we felt as though they were being watched like animals in a cage. Some of the people even began to sing a little rhyme that someone had made up about the ‘freak’:
Little John Tallman, Little John Tallman, we can’t see your hair
But Little John Tallman, but we can see your dirty underwear
Little John Tallman, Little John Tallman taller than the trees
So, Little John Tallman, ride us on your back, please.

The years passed and I grew up; and I do mean, “I grew up and out.” By the time I had reached my middle teens, I was almost seven feet tall and weighed about three hundred pounds. I could see my folks had reached their breaking point and it was time for me to leave.

CHAPTER TWO

THE “BLACKOUT” CAR RACES