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Jonathan


By: William Lyons



The place to be on a beautiful spring day in Washington, D.C., is the National Mall. This is especially true of lower income military families like that of Navy Hospital Corpsman HM1 Andrew “Doc” Thompson. The long, inviting, beautifully maintained lawn runs from the Lincoln Monument to the Capitol building. Doc, his wife and children were among the many families that dotted the lush green expanse on this fine spring day enjoying the warm clear weather after a long cold winter. The smell of the beautiful blossoms on the cherry trees lining the Tidal Basin permeated the gentle breeze from the South.
The many museums that make up the Smithsonian, the hordes of vendors lining Independence and Constitution Avenues that flank the mall, along with the swarms of tourists were nonexistent to this family. They were far more interested in the game of frisbee they were playing and the picnic lunch being laid out by Doc’s wife, Sharon.
They had chosen a location just North of the Washington Monument on the wide sloping lawn that faced both the Ellipse and the White House. The family drew some attention from the tourists as theirs was a large family and the fact the Doc was still in his working uniform having just gotten off duty at the Washington Navy Yard Branch Clinic.
Their game of Frisbee had not been going on too long until the delighted squeals of the Thompson children attracted a small seemingly enchanted young boy. Seeing the child’s enthusiasm, and being a man that loved children, Doc unhesitatingly included the youngster in the game. Soon the lad was romping and squealing with the rest of the children.
After a time Doc’s wife, Sharon called out that lunch was ready. This announcement was greeted with the same fervor by the Thompson children that had permeated the frisbee match. Their young visitor joined the group. Unfortunately, Doc realized that this inclusion could lead to real problems, and decided it was time that he returned to his parents. Since his children were happily digging into the many sandwiches, drinks, and fruit that Sharon had provided, accomplishing this feat (with what appeared to be a four or five-year-old) was going to take quite a bit of diplomacy. Stooping down to the youngster’s level, Doc asked quietly. “What’s your name, son?”
Still looking longingly at the abundance of food, the lad replied hesitantly, “Jonathan.”
“Jonathan, huh? That’s a fine name.” Now came the hard part. “Where are your parents, Jonathan?”
The lad looked up at this strange man for a moment then he pointed silently in the general direction of the Ellipse. Looking down at the lawn between himself and Constitution Avenue, Doc saw no one. He was now nervous and asked, “Are you sure your parents are down there, Jonathan?”
The boy looked up at him with an annoyed expression. The lad then pointed again; but, this time it was plain that he was not pointing to the area just below them, but to the Ellipse.
This was not good. The child was a long way from the Ellipse and (if the child was correct) he had just crossed one of the busiest streets in Washington, D.C., by himself, apparently to join in a game of frisbee! Realizing that the boy was well dressed, Doc surmised that the child wasn’t homeless, just lost and over eager to be with other children. It was time to call in the pro’s. Looking around he spotted one of the National Park Police mounted patrols not far away. Waving, and whistling loudly, Doc attempted to get the officer’s attention.
For his part, the officer looked at the sailor’s antics blankly for a moment; then, decided to investigate. He slowly walked his horse over to Doc and his family. His tone was one of slight annoyance when he spoke. “May I help you?”
“Yes Sir. This lad joined into our game of frisbee a little bit ago. His name is Jonathan. When I asked where his parents are just now he said nothing, but pointed to what might be the Ellipse?”
Skeptically, the officer asked, “Are you sure?”
Doc was getting annoyed with the officer’s lack of cooperation, but one doesn’t complain at police officers if they expect to get anywhere - other than arrested that is! Instead, he took a deep breath and stooping down again, and he addressed Jonathan instead of the mounted cop. “Jonathan, would you please show the officer where your parents are?”
The child looked way up at the mounted policeman, then at Doc. Finally, with what appeared to be a noticeable dose of fear, he silently pointed again to what looked to be the Ellipse.
Realizing that this might be a serious situation (and that he had frightened the boy), the officer dismounted and he too stooped to the child’s level. Then in a quiet reassuring voice he said, “Would you show me that again, little fellow?” Again, the now silent youngster pointed, but this time the officer sighted along the boy’s arm. After a moment he said thoughtfully, “He may be indicating the Ellipse.” Looking at the very busy Constitution Avenue, he then asked the child incredulously, “Did you really cross that street alone?”
The boy studied his feet for a moment and then without looking up said quietly, in what sounded to both the officer and Doc, a quite guilty tone, “Yes, sir.” Then looking up at both men he added defensively, “I looked both ways!”
Doc couldn’t contain an astounded, “That’s good!”
Looking at the child in astonishment, then at the Corpsman, the officer only nodded and added a shocked, “Yea!” Standing, the officer stared intently at the crowd on the Ellipse for a few moments before he spoke. Taking his radio out of its holster he made a call, “436 Mounted to Dispatch.”
In moments the answer came back, “Dispatch, go ahead 436.”
“Do we have any reports of a missing child on the Ellipse or the Mall?”
There was silence for a few seconds. It was as though the dispatcher was checking a list. Then came the reply, “None at this time, 436. Do you have one to report?”
“Quite possibly, Dispatch, give me time to get some details.”
“Affirmative 436. Dispatch clear.”
The officer lowered his radio and bent down to the child’s level once more. Then in a quiet, friendly voice he asked, “Son, what’s your name?”
The lad stood silent for a moment and then with seeming reluctance replied simply, “Jonathan.”
“Do you have a last name, Jonathan?”
Jonathan looked at the police officer silently and then nodded in the affirmative.
“Could you tell me your last name, Jonathan?”
Again the lad nodded positively, but said nothing.
This response was a bit unexpected by the cop; but, he managed not to let his frustration show as he asked, “So what is your last name?”
This time the boy looked at the ground and said quietly, “Caldwell.”
There was a sense of relief in his voice as the police officer asked, “Where do you live, Jonathan?”
“In a house.” Came the almost immediate reply from the child.
Completely flustered, the officer looked up to see a wide grin on the face of the Navy Corpsman. Standing and letting the frustration he felt show plainly he snapped at Doc, “You think you can do better?”
Doc chuckled and said, “I doubt it, but I’ll give it a whirl.” Then bending down once more, he asked, “How old are you Jonathan?”
This time the lad stood tall and proudly announced, “I’m four years old.”
“Wow. You’re a big boy then.”
This time the child beamed and nodded positively. However, before anyone could say anything else, a small girl walked between the grownups, took Jonathan by the hand, and began to walk away with him. A very surprised Doc stopped her and asked quietly, “Kathy, what are doing?”
The young girl, of maybe five years old, looked up at her father and in a very stern voice informed him, “Daddy, it’s lunch time and he hasn’t got anything to eat.” With that, she again turned with Jonathan and began walking toward the picnic.
“Kathleen Ann Thompson, you . . .”
Before he could finish, Kathy turned toward him and with her hands on her tiny hips (in an exact imitation of her mother when she was annoyed) and announced sternly, “You taught us to share. That’s what we are doing!” With that, she again turned on her heel and taking little Jonathan by the hand, walked toward the already spread picnic.
A very taken aback Doc then looked to his wife for support. What he saw was anything but encouraging. His wife Sharon was sitting straight as an arrow on the spread blanket her arms folded and with an annoyed expression exactly matching his daughter’s. This in “wife speak” said very plainly - you lose! Turning and looking at the Park Ranger, Doc rather sheepishly cleared his throat and said quietly, “Ah . . . it appears its lunch time.”
After one look at the highly determined Sharon, the police officer said simply, “Yea.”
Lunch went quietly, at least for the adults. The children noisily made great inroads into the food Sharon had provided. Soon everyone (including the Park Ranger’s horse) had partaken of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, carrot sticks, apple slices and juice box drinks. The horse, however, (despite its very obvious willingness to try peanut butter and jelly) was limited to only apple slices and carrot sticks by both his rider and Doc. This was followed, much to the delight of the children (and the annoyance of the horse, who was again excluded), by homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
After the meal, both the Ranger and Doc tried again to get much needed information from Jonathan. It soon became apparent that the child really didn’t know his home address or phone number. Knowing that the child had not gotten to the Mall all by himself, Doc made another stab at trying to find out who brought him here. Despite the boy now being drowsy from his lunch, and in obvious need of a nap, Jonathan was asked by Doc, “Who were you with here today, Jonathan?”
In response the child sleepily pointed again in the direction of the Ellipse and said “Grandpa.”
This response brought expressions of deep concern onto the faces of all the adults. No grandparent would knowingly abandon a young child in so dangerous a place. Something had happened to him. Sharon settled the children on the blanket for a nap while Doc and the officer looked at each other in deep concern. It was Doc who broke the stressful silence. “The old man could have had a heart attack, or worse a mild stroke, and be wandering all over the place out here not knowing who he is, where he is, or even that he had Jonathan with him!”
The officer looked pained. “We’ve had a couple of cases like this in the past. They are no fun!” Sadly, he pulled out his radio and made the call to dispatch. The response was rapid. Soon the children and Sharon had been moved into the

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