The Day My Father Rescued a Wounded Barbie Doll

One day, my father met a wounded Barbie doll on the side of a busy road. Despite a shocking discovery, that Barbie became a part of our family.

We joke about how our parents walked uphill both ways in the snow. Dad didn’t quite manage that. But in good weather, he used to walk to and from the bus stop instead of parking near it. Just before he got back home, he walked down the sidewalk along York Road in Lutherville, Maryland.

Even then, York Road was a bustling area. The area across from our development was already the home of Heaver Plaza (built between 1969 and 1970), and new office buildings were going up. At the same time, it was a mix of suburban wildlife and construction. Dad must have seen all sorts of things while he walked back from the bus stop. Everything from litter to rabbits to the dandelions my grandmother liked to make into salads. (Her dressing was divine.)

Meet the New Barbie, Not Like the Old Barbie

One day, Dad came home from work and told me he had seen a Barbie doll along the side of York Road near our intersection. He guessed that it must have fallen out of a moving car.

I was young and stupid. So I said something like, “What? And you didn’t bring it to me?!” Half-jokingly. Ish.

Thinking back, of course, I cringe at that. But Dad must have wanted to get in some more fresh air. Because without more begging, he walked back to York Road to find the Barbie doll. He didn’t even ask me to come with him. (I wish I had gone with him just for the together time. But maybe he needed to be alone with this thoughts, such as “Why oh why did I have to mention that doll to her?”)

Not long after, he came back inside and brought the found Barbie back to me.

I was ecstatic. A free Barbie doll! I can’t tell you what year or vintage she was. She had lighter hair, longer in the back. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, but I remember some kind of blousy thing.

Then, I did what all kids my age did. While Mum and Dad watched, I undressed my newly found Barbie doll. (Celebrity Parents Magazine has a theory about why kids do that. It’s a frequent concern from worried parents. There is even a song called Undress Your Barbie Doll!)

But I digress. Back to undressing the Barbie doll that my father had rescued for me. Following the strange undressing urge, I took off her blousy thing.

Microseconds later, I called out, “What in the world?!” And Dad said something along those lines. Great minds and all that.

This poor Barbie doll had indented breasts! She must have flown out of somebody’s station wagon and landed breast-first on the hard sidewalk.

Dad and Mum and I had a good laugh over that discovery.

If Barbies could talk, this one would say, “This isn’t funny! Get me a Band-Aid!”

Barbie wasn’t laughing. And her original owner was probably still crying.

What Was the Doll’s Story?

How did that Barbie doll get there? To this day, I wonder if some girl’s brother grabbed her Barbie doll and threw her out of their family station wagon. Either because his sister made him mad or because he was a budding sociopath.

If only I could let that girl know her Barbie doll found a nice home. Away from her budding sociopath of a brother.

Welcome Home, Barbie!

Anyway, you get what you pay for. And that’s what happens if you beg your father to pick up the random Barbie doll he spies on the side of the road.

I didn’t really care about the damage. It looked funny, but with her blousy thing back on, that Barbie doll looked fine.

I don’t remember what name I gave her. Maybe it changed because I was always making up new stories for my dolls and action figures. I adopted her into my small Barbie family that included a couple of other Barbies, just one Ken doll, an old G.I. Joe (with Kung Fu grip) I got somehow, the Marx cowgirl action figure I mentioned in an earlier article, and a Six Million Dollar Man action figure that towered over all the others.

As you might expect from that motley crew, my dolls lead … interesting … lives. They hung out at my Barbie Townhouse, but they also explored the dangers lurking near the sofas and the backyard.

And let’s hope they had fun. Either that or one day, I’ll wake up at night and see a small group of battered dolls coming to drag me off.

My new dented Barbie Doll had a rough voyage getting here, but she ended up in a lovely found family.

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