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A Road to Retirement
Hello, my name is Richard James Prather, [email redacted]
This campaign is not for me, but for my parents.
I was born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where my lovely parents still reside. I was about 9 years old when I realized I had been born into a very unique household, a family where I knew I would have to be the one to give the Prather name new meaning.
My parents’ only have a high school education. My father suffers with Hemophilia. Because of his religious beliefs at the time, he didn’t seek out doctor’s care or advice. As a result, we watched him cry and moan through many painful nights. Nevertheless, he would make his way to the front door to find handyman-work wherever he could. My mother, a stay at home mom, always made sure that we were very familiar with white rice or baked potatoes. These are items my father could buy in bulk for cheap.
I had a lot of opportunities to go over to the dark side, a common choice in my community, but kept to a brighter path. I am the first in my family to fly in an airplane, possess a passport, appear on national television, speak a foreign language, earn a bachelor’s degree, earn a master’s degree and see the world. I also played on the first all-African-American Interscholastic Polo Team in our country’s history. I was well on my way. Then 2008 hit me like so many others.
Now, before you start thinking you heard something similar to our story, let me introduce you to Mr. & Mrs. Prather. My Mother, Linda, just turned 60 years old this past April 3, and my father, Barry, turned 59 this past August 2, 2015; May 18th 2015 has marked their 39th wedding anniversary, which is the same amount of time my parents stuck by their special needs children. I want you to know I share my parents with 11 other people. Now let me introduce to you to my siblings: Raymond, Belinda, Robert, Ronald, Bonnie, Randle, Roland, Rebeca (aka Beki), Russell, Betina and Beth Prather!
That’s correct, my mom had twelve children. Although having this number of children is unusual in today’s world, the combination of my parent’s religious beliefs and their willingness to take on any new life that arrived resulted in a dozen kids. My mom was pregnant a little over 9 years of her life. My mom had all of us with the wonderful man I call my father, and 7 of my siblings’ suffer from Fragile X Syndrome.
As of May, 2015 all 7 of my special needs brothers and sisters will have transitioned into supervised independent-living homes. This month will mark the first time in 38 years my parents will be alone, without the special love and burden that arises from caring for special needs kids. Now is their time to live a dormant dream. What are their dreams you ask? In retirement, they wish to see the great USA via motorhome. My father’s dream was always to find a fixer-upper and sell it when everyone finally left the nest. He was in luck. Philadelphia had a program in which distressed properties were sold dirt cheap. We bought one, a three story home, in such disarray that the city sold it for a $1. The house had caught fire at some point and had been abandoned for more than 15 years before we moved in.
My father called it a Godsend. To me, the only “holy” thing about the house were the walls. The home had broken windows, no boiler, caved in ceilings, out of date wiring, a leaky roof and foundation settlement issues. We endured cold winters without heat and steaming Philadelphia summers without air conditioning. We received lots of great support from churches and community groups over the years, yet so much remains untouched. Between my dad’s illnesses, poverty, and the daily effort of simply keeping 12 kids healthy, happy and safe, most projects were never completed before some new problem with the house arose.
I have always admired my father for being a handyman, teaching me to change everything from truck brakes to leaky sinks. But sooner or later, time catches up with you. The house we grew up in, my dad’s fixer-upper, still needs fixing up. Even though Mr. Barry is 59 years old with complications of hemophilia, he still tries to repair things. But the reality is he’s no longer able to move a ladder, much less climb one to fix a leak on the roof of a three-story house.
Since the age of 9, my dream has been to help my dad realize his dream. As I grew older, I could see how hard a life my parents lived… a road of tremendous pain for all 14 of us. Their sacrifice for their children has been nothing but extraordinary. Moreover, my father has made it quite clear to us 5 “normal” ones that we were to go live our lives, go make great names of ourselves. He understood the true impact of their decisions, and they were both prepared to live up to it for as long as needed. However, I didn’t expect things to turn out this way. I earned three degrees in the hopes that I could earn the kind of employment that would enable me to pay for the improvements to my parents’ house. But after the economic collapse of 2008, I have been unable to get a job that is related to my degrees. Prospective employers tell me I am “overqualified” for entry-level positions in careers such as non-profit youth programing, yet on paper I am an applicant for entry-level jobs in my field. It is 7 years later, unemployment is down 5.5% and I work two jobs— one at a state agency, where I help others find employment, and the second at a security job on weekends just to pay off student loans and make ends meet.
That’s why I’m here, to ask you to help me fund the dream for my parents that I have otherwise been unable to fulfill. May 11, 2015 the last 4 of my special needs siblings have left the nest to take on independent lives of their own. Although my parents had hoped for this to be a gradual process, the news came suddenly that the last 4 of their kids could be placed at the same time. My parents have mixed emotions. They love their children but are grateful for the opportunity that my siblings’ will be able to experience the normalcy of independent adult living.
I need your help America. Please Go Fund my parents, so that their dream can come true. I have estimated that their 95 year old, 3 story brick home that is in such poor condition will need $95,000.00 in repairs. Let’s GO FUND THEM!!!
[email redacted]
Hello, my name is Richard James Prather, [email redacted]
This campaign is not for me, but for my parents.
I was born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where my lovely parents still reside. I was about 9 years old when I realized I had been born into a very unique household, a family where I knew I would have to be the one to give the Prather name new meaning.
My parents’ only have a high school education. My father suffers with Hemophilia. Because of his religious beliefs at the time, he didn’t seek out doctor’s care or advice. As a result, we watched him cry and moan through many painful nights. Nevertheless, he would make his way to the front door to find handyman-work wherever he could. My mother, a stay at home mom, always made sure that we were very familiar with white rice or baked potatoes. These are items my father could buy in bulk for cheap.
I had a lot of opportunities to go over to the dark side, a common choice in my community, but kept to a brighter path. I am the first in my family to fly in an airplane, possess a passport, appear on national television, speak a foreign language, earn a bachelor’s degree, earn a master’s degree and see the world. I also played on the first all-African-American Interscholastic Polo Team in our country’s history. I was well on my way. Then 2008 hit me like so many others.
Now, before you start thinking you heard something similar to our story, let me introduce you to Mr. & Mrs. Prather. My Mother, Linda, just turned 60 years old this past April 3, and my father, Barry, turned 59 this past August 2, 2015; May 18th 2015 has marked their 39th wedding anniversary, which is the same amount of time my parents stuck by their special needs children. I want you to know I share my parents with 11 other people. Now let me introduce to you to my siblings: Raymond, Belinda, Robert, Ronald, Bonnie, Randle, Roland, Rebeca (aka Beki), Russell, Betina and Beth Prather!
That’s correct, my mom had twelve children. Although having this number of children is unusual in today’s world, the combination of my parent’s religious beliefs and their willingness to take on any new life that arrived resulted in a dozen kids. My mom was pregnant a little over 9 years of her life. My mom had all of us with the wonderful man I call my father, and 7 of my siblings’ suffer from Fragile X Syndrome.
As of May, 2015 all 7 of my special needs brothers and sisters will have transitioned into supervised independent-living homes. This month will mark the first time in 38 years my parents will be alone, without the special love and burden that arises from caring for special needs kids. Now is their time to live a dormant dream. What are their dreams you ask? In retirement, they wish to see the great USA via motorhome. My father’s dream was always to find a fixer-upper and sell it when everyone finally left the nest. He was in luck. Philadelphia had a program in which distressed properties were sold dirt cheap. We bought one, a three story home, in such disarray that the city sold it for a $1. The house had caught fire at some point and had been abandoned for more than 15 years before we moved in.
My father called it a Godsend. To me, the only “holy” thing about the house were the walls. The home had broken windows, no boiler, caved in ceilings, out of date wiring, a leaky roof and foundation settlement issues. We endured cold winters without heat and steaming Philadelphia summers without air conditioning. We received lots of great support from churches and community groups over the years, yet so much remains untouched. Between my dad’s illnesses, poverty, and the daily effort of simply keeping 12 kids healthy, happy and safe, most projects were never completed before some new problem with the house arose.
I have always admired my father for being a handyman, teaching me to change everything from truck brakes to leaky sinks. But sooner or later, time catches up with you. The house we grew up in, my dad’s fixer-upper, still needs fixing up. Even though Mr. Barry is 59 years old with complications of hemophilia, he still tries to repair things. But the reality is he’s no longer able to move a ladder, much less climb one to fix a leak on the roof of a three-story house.
Since the age of 9, my dream has been to help my dad realize his dream. As I grew older, I could see how hard a life my parents lived… a road of tremendous pain for all 14 of us. Their sacrifice for their children has been nothing but extraordinary. Moreover, my father has made it quite clear to us 5 “normal” ones that we were to go live our lives, go make great names of ourselves. He understood the true impact of their decisions, and they were both prepared to live up to it for as long as needed. However, I didn’t expect things to turn out this way. I earned three degrees in the hopes that I could earn the kind of employment that would enable me to pay for the improvements to my parents’ house. But after the economic collapse of 2008, I have been unable to get a job that is related to my degrees. Prospective employers tell me I am “overqualified” for entry-level positions in careers such as non-profit youth programing, yet on paper I am an applicant for entry-level jobs in my field. It is 7 years later, unemployment is down 5.5% and I work two jobs— one at a state agency, where I help others find employment, and the second at a security job on weekends just to pay off student loans and make ends meet.
That’s why I’m here, to ask you to help me fund the dream for my parents that I have otherwise been unable to fulfill. May 11, 2015 the last 4 of my special needs siblings have left the nest to take on independent lives of their own. Although my parents had hoped for this to be a gradual process, the news came suddenly that the last 4 of their kids could be placed at the same time. My parents have mixed emotions. They love their children but are grateful for the opportunity that my siblings’ will be able to experience the normalcy of independent adult living.
I need your help America. Please Go Fund my parents, so that their dream can come true. I have estimated that their 95 year old, 3 story brick home that is in such poor condition will need $95,000.00 in repairs. Let’s GO FUND THEM!!!
[email redacted]
Organizer
Richard J. Prather
Organizer
Houston, TX