July 2, 1959: Another panel that will never appear in the legacy version of "Peanuts."
Confidential File
One New Chapter in Adventures of John
 (From the files of The Mirror News)
May 15, 1959 — A man of 27 who, though sane, spent 12 years in Pennsylvania mental institutions, is getting his first taste of freedom without fear.
John Lee Winwood, who hitchhiked to Los Angeles after making good his 30th escape attempt from the institutions, was released from General Hospital here as mentally competent.
Pennsylvania
authorities, informed of his release after brief observation, stated
that they had no intention of sending police after the fugitive, adding
that he had been kept in mental hospitals there since the age of 15
because "of his instability and because he had no one to make plans for
him."
Seven weeks ago tomorrow, Johnny Lee Winwood's new life began.
It started with interviews by reporters. I was one of them.
At
27 he was still more of a boy than a man, and I think there were a lot
of us who wondered how he could make it — what would happen to him.
 What did happen, right away, was that a family in La Crescenta
took a special interest in his story. They said that, with their own
kids grown up and married and moved away, they had plenty of room for
Johnny in their house. They'd be glad to help him get on his feet.
That's
where Johnny went. And, when I talked to him the day after he'd moved
in, he already was calling the couple who befriended him "Mom" and
"Pop."
Yesterday I found out what happened after that.
Immediately Johnny began catching up on the 12 lost years of his life. He wanted to do everything — all at once, if possible.
He
went horseback riding and roller skating. With help from his adopted
parents, he practiced reading and writing — luxuries denied him in his
gruesome childhood. He worked, did odd jobs all over the neighborhood.
And every penny he earned he tried to spend as fast as he could.
 He bought crepe paper and made bouquets of flowers, just like he used to do in the institutions. He'd take them to stores in the community and sell them.
Sometimes
he would. Sometimes he'd just give them away. If he saw an old lady in
a wheelchair, he'd go up to her and hand her a bouquet.
There was a waitress in a restaurant who was very nice to Johnny. He made her a cross and a bouquet.
At
first Johnny was nervous — very nervous. Once a police patrol car
drove by the house when he was up on the roof fixing the television
antenna. He ran inside, trembling.
"I thought they were coming after me," he said.
Gradually the nervousness left. It was replaced by a restlessness.
He
wanted a full-time job. But his new mother (Johnny was orphaned as an
infant) suggested it would be better to wait a little while, until he
picked up some more education at night school.
Then, last week, there were a couple of phone calls from Pennsylvania. They seemed to scare Johnny a lot. He didn't talk much about them. He just said they were from relatives.
Two days later, he asked the question: Mom, would it hurt your feelings if I leave?"
She said no.
He said, "You've done an awful lot for me."
She said, "I haven't even started yet, John."
Hour of Dread Decision
He said, "Do I owe you anything?"
She said, "No, of course not."
And he left. His scissors and crepe paper are still in a box in his room.
The last thing he asked his adopted mom was: "If I get in trouble, can I come back?"
And the last thing she told him was: "No, John. If you feel you're ready to leave, then you're ready to take care of yourself." |
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