Virgin Islands, Bermuda, and Aruba.” Stacy spent his last
six months in the Navy stationed in “dry dock” for his ship
to be equipped with Tomahawk missiles in Maine. He was
honorably discharged from active duty in the fall of 1991.
When he returned home, Stacy enrolled at Georgia
Southwestern College in Americus, Georgia, where he would
graduate with a secondary education degree in biology. For
one year, he taught 9th and 10th graders, which was long
enough for Stacy to decide that he did not want to teach
school. “Even though I enjoyed seeing their eyes light
up when they got something or you saw them improve, I
was just not prepared for all the extra stuff that goes with
teaching: all the discipline and interaction with kids and
parents and administration; all the meetings after school and
workshops and lesson plans. And you take work home every
single day. My hats off to anyone who teaches school. I think
the good teachers really make a huge difference.”
In 1997 Stacy graduated with a second degree: this
time in biology with a minor in chemistry. He was hired the
following year to work as a chemist at Merck Pharmaceuticals
in Albany, Georgia. It was there that Stacy met his future
wife, ironically enough, who was also named Staci. “She
worked in a different section in the chemistry department
that helped develop methods and dealt with quality control.
We got married in 2000. That was one of the best days of my
life,” said Stacy.
“How do you know who someone is speaking to?” I
asked.
He shrugged. “After we married, some of my friends
would call me John Stacy when we were together. John is my
first name, but I’ve always gone by Stacy.” I figured it wasn’t
so much a problem at home where one was “Dad” and the
other “Mom.” For the rest of us, I figured eye contact was
essential.
When the announcement of impending closure was made by
Merck at the end of 2005, Stacy decided to move before the
housing market became flooded with all those who would
soon be without a job. “I left Merck on a Friday in April
2006, and went to work at Hatch Nuclear Plant the following
Monday.”
Not long after moving to Toombs County, Stacy came
across a book by Temple Grandin and Sean Barron called
Unwritten Rules of Social Relationships. Stacy began to
connect the dots. As he read the book, so much about his
childhood began to make sense to him for the first time. “I
remembered thinking as a child, ‘Where are the rules on
how you’re supposed to act in different situations and about
what you’re supposed to say?’ Until I read that book, I didn’t
realize that everyone didn’t think that in childhood. I saw
my childhood in a whole new light. I realized that the reason
I struggled in social settings was because I didn’t have the
social skills that came naturally to other people. I didn’t have
the wiring for it.
“When I was really young, I could not interpret facial
expressions. I could not tell you when somebody was getting
upset, mad, or happy unless it was extreme. Some of those
things I just learned through experience and being put in
different environments. But I didn’t have many friends in
school. I was uncomfortable speaking to anyone outside
my family. I couldn’t put it into words, but my anxiety level
would rise in those situations. Now I realize that was a
defense mechanism. And if there were three or four people
talking, I had difficulty following the conversation. My brain
wouldn’t process it quickly enough to follow.” Like many
others, Stacy learned coping skills. “The Navy was really good
for me. I was constantly forced out of my comfort zone.”
Temple Grandin and organizations like Autism Speaks
have made incredible strides in bringing understanding to
the differences in brain functions for those on the autism
spectrum. Some of the most creative and innovative thinkers
are now believed to have been on the autism spectrum.
BELOW The Worths really enjoy spending their time with
their boys Caleb and Levi.
54 Toombs County Magazine