Jaime D'Arcy-Garcia formerly worked for the county of Los Angeles. He attended Belmont High School in downtown LA in 1962 and 1963 and most of these memories are taken from that time in his life.
REMINISCENCES OF
JAIME D'ARCY-GARCIA
When I lived in the Westlake area of Los Angeles it was a neighborhood in transition. It had gone from being Gentile, Jewish and Japanese to becoming Mexican, Central American, PR, Cuban, Filipino, older Anglos, some Russians, Muslims and adherents to the 4-Square Gospel Church. At that time it had a lot of cheap housing that accommodated all of the above plus my family. It was also a haven for the lonely, social outcasts, misfits, and others including hillbillies, Holocaust survivors, followers of Ayn Rand, would-have-been actors that never made it and old broken down carnys on welfare. It was truly a real hodgepodge of humanity like on the Statue of Liberty but for real.

In those days it was an inner city rough neighborhood where people did not mess with other people’s rights and privacies. Most of the Mexicans were there illegally, had crappy jobs refinishing barrels etc. But there is just something generous about the Hispanic culture when they are down and out in that they seem to more easily accept people w/disabilities and extreme differences more than we do.

People in that area, because they were really outcasts themselves to a greater or lesser degree, were very tolerant of the really bad off folks.
When I was in high school near McArthur Park Schlitzie and his caretaker were often in the park feeding the pigeons and ducks. Sometimes there were two people with him. In the summer-End of April --- they vacated. They would surface again sometime after Labor Day or Colombus day.

The Mexicans, Cubans, and Central Americans affectionately called Schlitzie “Ratoncito” (little mouse) because of an affection for those unfortunate as well as his apparent way of rubbing his mouth, eyes and nose much as a rat or mouse does when they clean their faces. In Schlitizie's case it was probably some kind of tic or his reaction to some allergy. The Mexicans knew that he was not malicious or vicious in any way. In fact, they used to say Ratoncito was going directly to heaven when he died. Even the gang bangers would show him toleration and sometimes even buy him a popsicle or a taco and horchata. He really liked horchata.

He was in the park on an intermittent basis. If it was Sat. or Sun., and it usually was if they were there, his caretakers who the locals referred to as “Dusty” and “Dirty” tried to peddle some postcards of him, but not aggressively. It just seemed that they were kicking back in the park like everybody else.

"Dusty" and "Dirty" were indeed dirty, but not as bad as Schlitzie's overcoat. We were very rude kids and found them to be what I would later learn to be having a "broken down carny look." We did not openly make fun of this couple or of "Ratoncito." Once the novelty wore off we just figured they were "just trying to get by." Nobody in those days would have dreamed of hurting them. I don't know what their names were. They were kind of incognito. I don't mean that they were bad. They did have a look like they were outsiders to Westlake and looked worldly and earthly. They were not strong but plenty street wise and had a real "al respeto al derecho ajeno es la paz" (respect for the rights of others makes for peace attitude.)

Dusty used to light up a smoke, suck on it and cough and spit, then put his hands behind his head, lean back on the bench and either smile or grimace. I couldn't tell what he was doing. Dirty used to read those romance books she must have got at one of the used book stores, eat twinkies, vienna sausage and potted meat by scooping it up with a sturdy potato chip or frito.

“Dirty” would care for Schlitzie. She was gentle and very careful with him but firm and would grab him forcefully to wipe his face off (she did this a lot) but would still be gentle with Schlitzie.

Cops from Rampart would chat in passing and sometimes one of the cops would ask if it was OK to give Ratoncito a candy. If a cop asked them they would say yes--if a kid would they would say no.

“Dusty” was very protective of Schlitzie. Schlitzie obviously could not see very well and never got far away from him. Dusty would speak to Schlitzie in some gibberish that I later learned was probably carny dialect. Toward other people, Dusty would look at them like he was “looking us over”. I am glad that he viewed me as friendly to the Mouse. He was no dummy and was not lacking in being assertive. His social skills were better than most people. Sometimes, he would have Schlitzie sit on his wide lap and rub the back of his neck and say what appeared to be "Roscoe, wills rabbit!?" Schlitzie would smile and start gesticulating. Note that the MacArthur park ducks and geese were very wary of people but had no fear of Schlitzie or his caretakers.
Schlitzie was always dressed in clean clothes and 99˘ tennies but would get dirty very quickly. Whenever he lucked out and got an ice cream from the Thrifty Drug across the street, an horchata, coke, tamaraind water or some snack the poor little guy would get it all over him! He was usually dressed in muu-muus that were changed sometimes multiple times a day.

I only saw him dressed in trousers and a thrift store shirt a couple of times. Trousers big enough to accommodate his diapers. The regular men's shirts made it possible to notice the apparent scoliosis that he seemed to have. Also, during the summer when wearing his muu-muus, there was something about his legs that suggested some type of deformity.

Schlitzie was unable to carry on a conversation, but he could "parrot". Shlitzie was inclined to laugh a lot and while laughing touch his face a lot while laughing. He used to hear them talk pachuco and he gradually picked it up (oye ese!) where it could be remotely understood. Also, every now and then he would say: "get screuuuuuuwed!" Another one of Schlitzie's favorite phrases was "Alan Bar Allan". He used that when referring to crows, blue jays or scavenging birds. He would say of any of the big ducks in the ponds "tame Robert" . Schlitzie was like a mynah bird. Give him something and he'd throw it back.

He loved the ducks, pigeons, and people walking their dogs through the park and around the 6th St. and Alvarado area. He was an uncanny little fellow who really was appreciative of people doing little nice things for him such as his diaper changes or a bath (his clothes were stained and his winter overcoats were atrocious but Schlitzie himself was not that dirty).

Because he was always putting his hands near his mouth, I hate to think of all of the colds and intestinal problems he must have had. He had a tendency to gain and lose weight. A bad cold would cause him to lose weight. I strongly suspect from seeing FREAKS that he would have been prone to skeletal troubles and arthritis if he lived long enough. He would often make gestures about his back and maybe legs hurting. He liked his "inas" (aspirin) from the Thrifty drug stores at 11˘ a bottle. He used to quite often wear a plastic outpatient ID bracelet from LACO General Hosp. It was a common item among the indigent around Westlake.
When I last saw Schlitzie, 1969-70, he looked like he was sick and in pain. He was dirty. I gave him two bucks. He dropped one and did not know it, so I picked it up and put it in his hands, very dirty, and his muu-muu was dirty. His poor feet were scabby. He was on a bench (near the restroom) with a scruffy wheelchair nearby. He was wearing a huge white badge that said "Aid To The Totally Disabled". Schlitzie seemed androgynous. He had no trace beard, his tuft of hair was white and he seemed to be suffering from arthritis. His teeth were virtually nonexistent and his breath was horrible. He had lost a lot of his energetic mimicry and walked very slowly. His caretaker had set up some side show memorabilia on a dirty green tv tray with several coins but nobody around there would rob them of it.

Schlitzie, my former constant source of a kind feeling and a totally w/out malice person, had a pretty decent life in view of the terrible disabilities he had.
©2007 Jaime D'Arcy-Garcia
Old postcard, author's collection. Feeding the ducks at MacArthur Park.  Wilshire Blvd in the background.
FINAL DAYS
Not too long after Mr. D'Arcy-Garcia last saw him and with  his caretaker(s) no longer able to properly care for him, Schlitzie was admitted to the Fairview Convalescent Hospital in Los Angeles. There he was lovingly cared for and made comfortable till he passed away peacefully Sept. 24, 1971.  He is buried in a pauper's grave at Queen of Heaven Cemetery in Los Angeles.
Almost thirty-one years after his death  a marker was finally placed at Schlitze's gravesite due to the care and concern of a good group of folks at findadeath.com  who were bothered that the little showman's final resting place lay unmarked.    (Photo courtesy Scott Michaels, administrator of the website, who adds "Schlitzie finally has his hat with a Lonnnnnnnnnng feather in it.")
UPDATE!