Mr. Troy

Mr. Troy is the elderly man that sits in his motorized wheelchair at the corner of 21st and Capp St. He lives in the senior home on the corner. He is the lollipop man.

Sometimes when he sees the kids coming he'll holler at them, but now the kids pretty much beat him to it. I remember when Jesse was so young, I could actually take the lollipop from him because he didn't get what it was. Then I remember when the kids vaguely got what Mr. Troy was about, and so I'd try to avoid him (without him knowing of course) but man, he'd zip right up to me and corner me with that wheelchair. ( I was just trying to be a good mom and prevent some sugar in my kids lives! ) Then there was the stage when my kids optimistically thought that every black man in a wheelchair was Mr. Troy and referred to them as such. That sure created a lot of false hope.

Now they really know Mr. Troy and they have come to rely on him, so much so that he can not only thrill them but let them down. One time it seemed that Mr. Troy (because his supply was running low) was actually trying to get away from us, but of course with my kids screaming at him, he couldn't fake his lack of hearing for long. He turned around, gave a warm smile, and my kids mentioned lollipops. Mr. Troy handed one to Luci, while saying "Here" and said to Jesse "Well, you're a big boy now" and handed Jesse an orange, after which Jesse's face became immediately downcast.

Mr. Troy has served as a good neighbor and also as an object lesson in gratitude, politeness, etc. I've had to coach Jesse on how to be thankful even when disappointed--even though a let down has only happened once, we rehearse how to be kind if it doesn't go our way. I find myself saying "He not just a lollipop man, he's a person." Nevertheless, we adore Mr. Troy and it seems the relationship is mutually fulfilling. Just today, Luci plopped Black baby into his lap, and Jesse punched buttons on Troy's wheelchair, an action which propelled Mr. Troy to put on his safety lock.