The Barton couple loves their disabled son Wendell for who he is – but admit that his massive size and ceaseless energy make things hard.
The Bartons are recent arrivals to the suburbs; they wanted quieter pastures after five challenging years of urban life raising Wendell, whose disability they choose not to disclose. “Our son is who he is, and we accept him as he is,” his mother, Mary Barton, told us. Nearby, Wendell popped a bag of Fritos open – which blew up like fireworks across the room. In a feat of preternatural strength and with only one arm, Wendell flipped the sofa over from underneath to retrieve one of the Fritos that had gone under it. Calmly, Mrs. Barton said, “It got to be a bit dangerous to have Wendell running around the city all of the time.”
Father, William Barton, added, “There are a lot jerks out there. We’ve grown pretty defensive over how others perceive Wendell. In movies, there’s a stereotype of the large, unstoppable, disabled guy who talks oddly and has the strength of a bull. It’s a harmful stereotype.” Mr. Barton heaved a sigh of exhaustion. “But I admit, stereotypes come from somewhere.” From the window, we saw Wendell jumping from the neighbor’s roof onto the hood of a car, causing the alarm to go off.
“He’ll mellow out eventually – it’s just how kids are,” William said. “We wouldn’t want him any different. He’s perfect.”