The King’s Speech - I haven’t seen this movie yet, but I will! All of the hype about this movie brought back the memories of my own problem with stuttering. The shame I felt, the embarrassment, the ridicule.

I remember clearly the time I first stuttered. I can’t give you a reason for it. I remember that I was a good reader in the lower grades at school. I think it was the third grade. The teacher would call on me to read, as an example for the other students to follow. Apparently I was the goal everyone was to reach.

But one day, I couldn’t read. I stuttered! It was confusing for me. It was confusing for everyone around me. The teacher thought I was horsing around and made me stand in the corner as the rest of the class giggled at the shame of the great reader. My father who was a very strict disciplinarian also thought I was playing the fool. He punished me. Everyone laughed at me—one day a shining example, the next, a weirdo supposedly playing the fool.

I once heard George VI make a speech. I don’t recall the topic or when. I think it was related in some way to the War. My parents were listening to the radio. I remember my mother saying to my father "Even kings stutter.” The king didn’t really stutter then, he had cured himself. But he spoke very slowly, with a lot of long pauses, I recall. But we knew he was a stutterer.

It was just awful for me. Kids are really cruel little monsters, but grown-ups are too. I stuttered in the service. I enlisted and just barely got in—and only because an examining doctor felt sorry for me. I was so anxious to be a hero.

I flunked out of flight school. Flyers have to do a lot talking on the radio. The school’s commanding officer even told me "How the hell did you get here?!"

Paydays in the service were especially bad. We were paid in cash. There were long lines of airmen waiting for their turn at the pay officer’s desk. We would step up smartly, salute, and hold it until it was returned – “Sir! Airman Joe Blow reporting for pay, sir!” – except me.

My fear would increase as I got close to the paymaster.  I’d step up smartly. I would salute—and then an absolute block. I could say a few words, but then the fear and embarrassment would block any further intelligent sentence. There were long lines of kids waiting behind me. There was the paymaster staring at me. We had to say the words, the formula—or we couldn’t collect our pay.

The paymaster finally worked out a deal with me. I would stay at the end of the line, give just a few nods, and I was finished.

I cured myself eventually. My first year in University, we engineering students had to take a speech course. The first few days, we had to read before the class—some passage from a book. Oh my God! It was awful for me! But everyone was so patient, which made it even more embarrassing. The professor advised me to apply to a special class for stutterers. I refused. I’ve had enough "special" classes in my life. I vowed to get through this speech course - and I did!

We had to make six speeches or talks for the first quarter. I adopted a broad John Barrymore way of talking. I lowered my voice, waved my hands about, and dramatized everything. I acted. Yeah! As if I was an actor. Every word was like a caricature of some movie orator.  I enunciated syllables clearly. I talked loudly, over-emphasized the cadence of my sentences, never stopped for a moment—and it worked! I didn’t stutter when I did all that. It gave me confidence!

I also learned to anticipate a "stutter" moment. I switched words that I knew would turn into blocks into alternative words. I learned to do it without a pause. It was important to establish a flow, like singing. You can just imagine the stares I got when asking or answering questions in Math classes—“Who IS that weirdo?" I didn’t care. All that mattered was that I didn’t stutter.

My crowning glory was when the class elected me the best speaker and representative for "speech night.” It was a kind of tournament for student speakers from all the Speech classes. I came in third out of eight speakers.

I still stutter a little when I’m tired and not alert. But if I can keep a flow of words going with a particular cadence, I don’t get blocked. And I don’t stutter when I drink or sing.

I’m blessed!

Further Reading
1. Wikipedia article on Stuttering