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The Many Faces of APD Jeff was seventeen years old, over six feet tall, and outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds. He was a big kid. Tough, too. He was one of the starring offensive linemen on his high school football team. Word had it that he could cut through the other team's defense like a knife through butter, scattering smaller players in all directions.
Yet, despite all of his toughness, he had a gentle, polite manner and a heart of gold. When Jeff and his mother arrived at the clinic, he greeted me with a shy smile. He was extremely cooperative during testing and apologized whenever he made a mistake or missed an item. He even called me "ma'am." I'm not too fond of that generally, but, coming from him, I found it quite endearing. Which is probably why I felt as if my heart were breaking when, halfway through my expla ...
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