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Library | Call Number | Status |
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Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | TEEN 921 PELZER | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Valley Library (Lakeland) | TEEN 921 PELZER | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Wildwood Library (Mahtomedi) | TEEN 921 PELZER | Searching... Unknown |
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Summary
Summary
Imagine a young boy who has never had a loving home. His only possesions are the old, torn clothes he carries in a paper bag. The only world he knows is one of isolation and fear. Although others had rescued this boy from his abusive alcoholic mother, his real hurt is just begining -- he has no place to call home.
This is Dave Pelzer's long-awaited sequel to A Child Called "It". In The Lost Boy, he answers questions and reveals new adventures through the compelling story of his life as an adolescent. Now considered an F-Child (Foster Child), Dave is moved in and out of five different homes. He suffers shame and experiences resentment from those who feel that all foster kids are trouble and unworthy of being loved just because they are not part of a "real" family.
Tears, laughter, devastation and hope create the journey of this little lost boy who searches desperately for just one thing -- the love of a family.
Author Notes
David Pelzer was born on December 29, 1960 in San Francisco, California. He survived what is reported to be the third worst case of child abuse in California state history. The victims of the other two cases are dead. At the age 12, Pelzer's teachers risked their careers to notify the authorities and saved his life. He was removed from his home and his abusive mother, and made a ward of the court. He was placed in foster care until he enlisted in the U.S. Air Force at age 18. While in the service, Pelzer achieved the rank of Sargent and was hand-picked to midair refuel the highly secretive SR-71 Blackbird and the F-117 Stealth Fighter, which played a major role in Operations Just Cause, Desert Shield, and Desert Storm.
His first book, A Child Called "It", was published in 1995 and dealt with his abusive childhood. His other works include The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family, A Man Named Dave: A Story of Triumph and Forgiveness, Help Yourself: Finding Hope, Courage, and Happiness, and Moving Forward. He received several awards including the J. C. Penney Golden Rule Award in 1990 and the 2005 National Jefferson Award.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (1)
Library Journal Review
Following A Child Called It (Health Communications, 1995), which was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and appears frequently on high school reading lists, this is the second in a planned trilogy from motivational author and speaker Pelzer. Here he tells his story from the time he left his abusive mother and alcoholic father, through his experiences in five foster homes and juvenile detention, and how he eventually made it into the Air Force. He was a defiant, rebellious boy who, despite his background and personality, managed to endear himself to many guardians, social workers, and teachers. Pelzer writes in an honest, sometimes rambling, style; he is never bitter, and his story will find many sympathetic readers. However, he leaves many questions unanswered (which may appear in the third book), dealing with his adult-life relationships, his son, the mother of that child, and the ways he turned his life around. This is sure to be popular among students and readers who await a sequel to A Child Called It. Well recommended.Linda Beck, Indian Valley P.L., Telford, Pa. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
from Chapter OneWinter 1970, Daly City, California--IÆm alone. IÆm hungry and IÆm shivering in the dark! I sit on top of my hands at the bottom of the stairs in the garage. My head is tilted backward. My hands became numb hours ago. My neck and shoulder muscles begin to throb. But thatÆs nothing new--lÆve learned to turn off the pain. IÆm MotherÆs prisoner. I am nine years old and IÆve been living like this for years. Every day itÆs the same thing. I wake up from sleeping on an old army cot in the garage, perform the morning chores, and if IÆm lucky, eat leftover breakfast cereal from my brothers. I run to school, steal food, return to "The House" and am forced to throw up in the toilet bowl to prove that I didnÆt commit the crime of stealing any food. I receive beatings or play another one of her "games," perform afternoon chores, then sit at the bottom of the stairs until IÆm summoned to complete the evening chores. Then, and only if I have completed all of my chores on time, and if I have not committed any "crimes," I may be fed a morsel of food. My day ends only when Mother allows me to sleep on the army cot, where my body curls up in my meek effort to retain any body heat. The only pleasure in my life is when I sleep. ThatÆs the only time I can escape my life. I love to dream. Weekends are worse. No school means no food and more time at "The House.ö All I can do is try to imagine myself away --somewhere, anywhere -- from "The House." For years I have been the outcast of ôThe Family." As long as I can remember I have always been in trouble and have ôdeserved" to be punished. At first I thought I was a bad boy. Then I thought Mother was sick because she only acted differently when my brothers were not around and my father was away at work. But somehow I always knew Mother and I had a private relationship. I also realized that for some reason I have+ been MotherÆs sole target for her unexplained rage and twisted pleasure. I have no home. I am a member of no oneÆs family. I know deep inside that I do not now, nor will I ever deserve any love, attention or even recognition as a human being. I am a child called "It." IÆm all alone inside. Upstairs the battle begins. Since itÆs after four in the afternoon, I knnow both of my parents are drunk. The yelling starts. First the name-calling, then the swearing. I count the seconds before the subject turns to me--it always does. The sound of MotherÆs voice makes my insides turn. "What do you mean?" she shrieks at my father, Stephen. "You think I treat æThe BoyÆ bad? Do you?" Her voice then turns ice cold. I can imagine her pointing a finger at my fatherÆs face. "You ... listen ... to ... me. You ... have no idea what æItÆsÆ like. If you think I treat æItÆ that bad ... then ... æItÆ can live somewhere else. I can picture my father--who, after all these years, still tries somewhat to stand up for me --swirling the liquor in his glass, making the ice from his drink rattle. "Now calm down," he Excerpted from The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family by Dave Pelzer All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.