My earliest memory is from the age of 3. I was playing with my sister Peggy who was 4 ½. I had a brother who was 5 ½ and a younger sister who was 1 ½. We lived in a tidy suburb of Philadelphia and the whole neighborhood was our playground.
That summer morning, Peggy and I were riding my tricycle together. She stood on the back and I peddled. My pedaling was very slow and labored so we didn't go very fast. Then Peggy got the idea that we could ride down the hill that crested a few yards from our driveway. I was eager. So she steered and I pedaled to the top of the hill and with just a momentary pause, we descended. It was thriliing to go so fast. Then because of the speed that we were going, Peggy lost control and started screaming. The trike careened all over the steep, cinder-covered road. We hit the bottom of the hill, Peggy jumped off and I smashed into a large bush. I was thrown off the trike and landed on my chin. Peggy left the scene. I got myself up and walked to the trike. I pulled it upright and pushed it back up the hill. It was broken. Then I saw Peggy, crying, but attempting to hide her 4 year-old self inside a bank of shrubbery. I didn't really understand why she was hiding and wondered whether I should hide too. But I just pushed the broken trike up the hill and into the front yard. It was not the first time I'd fallen off my trike. I opened the front door of my house and walked into the kitchen. My mother was there. I said to her, "Me and Peggy rode down the hill and broke my bike. Can I have some candy?" My mother took one look at my blood-spattered shirt and my streaming chin and SHE started yelling. The next thing I remember is laying out in a doctor’s office with three or four white coated people holding me down while stinging my chin with what felt like tiny bees. I kept asking for candy. The nurses and doctor told me they would give me candy when they finished and to please hold still. It wasn't the stinging bees that hurt and scared me. It was all these people holding me down and telling me to not move.
They finally finished sewing up my chin. I got my candy, a lollipop. Chin bandaged I told the story to anyone who would listened. "Peggy knocked me down on my chin."
Causes Theresa Diamond Supports
Center for Consitutional Rights, Amnesty International, New York Civil Liberties Union, ACLU, Fairness and Accuracy in Media, NYPIRG