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                Ford Family Fighters 
                Anne 
                Ford's devotion, not her money and prominence, made the 
                difference for her learning disabled daughter.by Ellen Creager, Detroit Free Press, May 7, 2003
 For more articles like this 
                visit 
                https://www.bridges4kids.org
 
                 Anne Ford was afraid to tell her famous father, Henry Ford II, 
                that her daughter Allegra had a severe learning disability.
 
 "I knew it was one thing he could not fix," she says.
 
 She also was afraid to tell her very proper mother, Anne 
                McDonnell Ford.
 
 "I didn't want her to talk to her friends at luncheons about me; 
                I didn't want them all to pity poor Anne," she says.
 
                  
                So for years, 
                Ford kept her fear, embarrassment, confusion, panic and 
                desperation to herself. She took Allegra from preschool to 
                preschool and specialist to specialist, trying to put her 
                daughter on a conventional path.
 But life had other plans.
 
 Allegra Ford, now 30, was diagnosed in 1976 with learning 
                disabilities so severe a doctor once recommended she be 
                institutionalized. Unlike her older brother Alessandro, Allegra 
                could not go to a regular school. Math was a mystery. She could 
                not read others' social cues necessary for friendship. She 
                struggled to make sense of words and writing. Always happy, 
                Allegra was on the lower side of the bell curve of intelligence.
 
                 In the 1970s, most parents kept such news private. That's what 
                Anne Ford tried to do. "I was completely unequipped to deal with 
                rejection and failure, and most of all, this new thing in my 
                family, a disability, a flaw!" Ford writes in "Laughing 
                Allegra," which she wrote with John-Richard Thompson (Newmarket, 
                $24.95). It's a painfully honest memoir and advice book for 
                parents of children with learning disabilities.
 
                 A rare glimpse into the workings of the Ford family and the 
                evolution of LD treatment in the last 30 years, the memoir 
                illustrates what a parent's determination can achieve and what 
                all the riches in the world cannot.
 
 "What good in the end did it do me to have all of that 
                privilege, really?" says Ford, 60, in an interview from her New 
                York home. "We're all on the same level when you're dealing with 
                learning disabilities."
 
                 Tonight is the big launch for the book at the Four Seasons in 
                New York City. Allegra, who lives quietly upstate, will help 
                throw the party for her mother. But she is not part of the book 
                tour.
   
                When parents get 
                the diagnosis that their child has a learning disability, they 
                hear a lot of confusing terminology. 
                   
                Because it is a 
                set of neurological disorders that can show up in minor and 
                major ways (dyslexia is just one example), it is hard to 
                understand. LD is not autism, although autistic-like syndromes 
                can be part of it. It is not attention deficit disorder or 
                mental retardation, although ADD or retardation can be part.
                
                 
                 Three million children in the United States are receiving 
                special education for LD.
 
 But "people are still ashamed to talk about it," Ford says. "I 
                wanted to get rid of that stigma. It does not do any good to 
                spend years in denial like I did. In this book I opened up a lot 
                more of my personal feelings. People say, 'How can you remember 
                what you wore? How Allegra dealt with her dolls?'
 
                 "I remember everything like it was yesterday."
 
 Many in Detroit might remember Anne Ford. The 
                great-granddaughter of Henry Ford, she is the sister of 
                Charlotte and Edsel. She grew up on Lake Shore Drive in Grosse 
                Pointe Shores. Her Granny Ford, as she called Eleanor Ford, 
                "lived in a big spooky house," the book recalls. "Whenever we 
                visited her, we would play hide and seek," she says. "Granny 
                Ford would hide behind the same curtains every time, not knowing 
                we could see her shoes." The "spooky house" was the Edsel and 
                Eleanor Ford mansion.
   
                When Ford was 
                18, her parents divorced and she moved to New York with her 
                mother. She and Charlotte built lives there, while Edsel raised 
                his family in Grosse Pointe. 
                 
                 Anne Ford had attended Sacred Heart Seminary in Bloomfield Hills 
                and another convent school, so when she married Gianni Uzielli 
                in 1965 and became a mother, she knew absolutely nothing of the 
                public school system. By 1976, when she was desperately 
                searching for a private school that would take Allegra, she did 
                not even think to check out the public schools.
 
                 "Special ed gets a bum rap, but public schools do a better job 
                of it than private schools do," she says now.
 
 By the time Allegra's problems began showing up, Anne Ford and 
                Uzielli had divorced. She faced them alone, as a single mother.
 
 It was rough.
 
 One summer when Allegra was nearly 6, the extended Ford family 
                gathered as usual in the Hamptons. It seemed as though 
                everyone's children took gymnastics and did it well -- except 
                Allegra, who simply could not understand the instructions and 
                was unfocused and uncoordinated.
 
                 At one disastrous gymnastics show, "The mothers were dressed 
                identically, thin, tan, all with long blond hair, watching their 
                perfect children perform perfectly," Ford writes. "With every 
                activity, "my child was exposed to not being as perfect as 
                children are supposed to be in Southampton. And there I was, 
                hiding under a big floppy hat, wanting to melt away."
 
                 That was the last summer there. Allegra entered a series of 
                special schools, and Anne Ford's own crash course began. She 
                learned there were schools that could help her daughter. That LD 
                children can be very talented at certain things, if they keep 
                trying. Allegra failed at virtually every activity -- until she 
                discovered ice skating, an individual sport.
 
                 It was a godsend, Ford remembers, "because you have got to find 
                something they do very well and praise them. Self-esteem is such 
                an issue. The headmaster at (one of Allegra's schools) always 
                said parents never cried over math scores. They cried because 
                their children didn't have any friends."
 
                 New York Gov. Hugh Carey befriended Ford and her daughter.
 
 "Never give up on her," he told Ford. "Never give failure too 
                much power. Never doubt that your child will somehow find her 
                way, in ways you never expect."
 
                 He was right.
 
 Today, Allegra lives on her own. She has a roommate, a woman who 
                is not learning disabled. She has worked as a preschool aide and 
                is looking for a new job, her mother says. Although she comes 
                from one of the nation's wealthiest families, Allegra has no 
                idea that the Fords are legendary or her family is rich.
 
                 She doesn't even know where money even comes from, except the 
                ATM. To her, it is magic.
 
 After years of trying, Allegra passed most of her driver's test. 
                She was able to take the written test verbally. She still does 
                not have her license because she cannot parallel park, "but 
                we're working on it," Ford says.
 
                 She still talks to Allegra every day. She got her daughter's 
                permission to write the book.
 
 "Allegra was not too hot about my writing a book in the 
                beginning," Ford says. "Then she realized she might be able to 
                help someone else. She sent a lot of e-mails over the last 
                year."
 
                 Ford includes some of them in the book, with Allegra's own 
                spelling and typos:
 
 "Granddaddy gave me a aligator that we swam together with and we 
                have so much fun. i miss him a lot." "We went saw so many 
                doctors that the last one said I can't help anymore And that was 
                like a stab in the heart." And this one:
 
                 "i know in life we all go thorugh something thats not right or 
                we just donr know what to do. because we went the rong way."
 
 Today, public awareness and early diagnosis of LD is better, 
                Ford says. There is a wealth of information and support from 
                other parents on the Internet. Finally, denial is out of 
                fashion.
 
                 When Ford finally told her father that Allegra had learning 
                disabilities, Henry Ford II promised her he would help cure 
                Allegra. He contacted the most prominent pediatric neurologist 
                in New York. But there was to be no cure.
 
                "I had always believed my father could fix anything -- a phone 
                call, a letter, a personal visit, it was done, no matter what it 
                was," writes Ford. "I also knew this was the first time he would 
                fail." She also finally told her proper, stoic mother about 
                Allegra's disabilities. Her mother did not, as she had feared, 
                spread the news to the ladies who lunch. Instead, she went with 
                Anne on the most difficult day of her daughter's life -- to drop 
                Allegra off at a special education boarding school on Cape Cod.
 
                 And Anne Ford? She did not remain a confused and ashamed young 
                mother. She went on to become chairman of the board of the 
                National Center for Learning Disabilities, determined that no 
                other parent would have to face a child's LD alone.
 
 Anne Ford will appear at Borders Books in Farmington 7 p.m. June 
                12, at Borders in Dearborn 7 p.m. June 13 and at the Ford Motor 
                Co. Centennial Celebration June 14; details not yet set. For 
                more information and LD links, see
                www.laughingallegra.com 
                or the National Center for Learning Disabilities,
                www.ld.org.
 
 Contact ELLEN CREAGER at 313-222-6498 or
                creager@freepress.com.
 
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