Breaking the Silence : Parents’ Message Loud and Clear for Palmdale’s Sandoval

After throwing an interception early in the game, Palmdale High quarterback Rocque Sandoval made eye contact with his father, John, high in the stands.

Amid the clamor of the crowd, father calmed his son, telling him to refocus and play smart. Rocque (pronounced Rocky) understood every word, took the field and passed or ran for four touchdowns in Palmdale’s 34-14 victory over Littlerock last fall.

Well out of earshot, they were able to converse because John Sandoval cannot speak. Or hear.

Neither can Rocque’s mother, Karen. Rocque and his three younger siblings--all of whom have normal hearing--communicate with their parents by sign language.

“As long as I can see them, I can hear them,” says Sandoval, a senior who plays center on the school’s Golden League champion basketball team that will play a second-round playoff game tonight against Hart at The Master’s College.

Last month, Sandoval, who threw a school-record 25 touchdown passes in the fall, accepted a football scholarship to New Mexico. He carries a 3.7 grade-point average and plans to study premed.

Enormous achievements by a young man who has overcome extraordinary obstacles. Coaches and friends sing his praises.

Yet from his parents’ standpoint, the theme from Rocque is complete silence.

John and Karen Sandoval cheer their son as wildly as the most leather-lunged fan, leaping out of their seats and exchanging hugs.

“When the crowd roars, they get into it like other people,” Rocque says. “They can tell when a touchdown is scored or a big shot is made.

“And after games, I see what kind of expressions they make.”

Karen, especially, is expressive in all sorts of nonverbal ways, exuding enthusiasm and warmth through gestures and a delightful twinkle in her eyes. John is more stoic, yet pride in his son is obvious.

During an interview this week around their living room table, the Sandovals were downright talkative, jabbering on by punctuating their rapid signing with riveting eye contact and animated facial expressions.

Rocque, who began signing before he could crawl, concentrates on his parents’ signing with the same intensity he must use recognizing defensive coverages. He answers them quickly, his large hands spelling any word he is unable to sign, his neck bobbing, his entire body devoted to the task.

Deprived of a whisper and a scream, the Sandovals engage in the very essence of nonverbal communication.

“Mom and Dad are proud of me,” Rocque says, translating his parents’ signing. “That I’m a success. That I made it. That I earned a scholarship.

“My dad says I am a really hard worker.”

That said, John and Karen turn to a listener and smile broadly.

Signing comes in especially handy during football and basketball games. How many thousands of fathers yearn to talk to their sons during competition?

John Sandoval, a man living in silence, is able to do so.

Like his son, he played high school football (yes, quarterback) and basketball (averaging 28 points a game). He attended the California School for the Deaf in Berkeley, where he met Karen, his wife of 17 years.

“My dad knows what is going on,” Rocque says. “He knows sports. He’s got an impressive scrapbook himself.”

Like father, like son. Rocque was among state leaders with 2,675 passing yards last year, his first as a starting quarterback. He racked up nine sacks as a junior defensive end, but made the transition from pass rusher to pass thrower look startlingly easy.

Sandoval (6-foot-2, 185 pounds) learns quickly, something his parents have known since he began to sign for milk and water at the age of eight months.

“Look what he’s done in one year,” says Jeff Williams, the Palmdale football coach. “He’s in watching film as much as any coach on our staff.

“Rocque is a very intelligent quarterback. He’s done things in the last year that usually take three years to learn.”

On the basketball court, Sandoval more than holds his own against taller players through positioning and toughness. Turns out those days as a defensive end come in handy on the hardwood.

“He plays inside and always covers the opposing team’s top big man,” says Palmdale basketball Coach Garry Phelps, whose team is 22-3 and ranked No. 3 in The Times’ area poll. “He uses the strength he developed through football.”

Rocque is smart. Rocque is tough. And Rocque is under control.

Growing up in a household where a gentle tap on the shoulder gains immeasurably better results than yelling, Sandoval learned restraint. He has passed on that knowledge to his brother, Vince, 14, and sisters Kim, 10, and Melissa, 5.

He recalls one shouting match with Vince, a 6-4, 230-pound Palmdale freshman tight end.

“My dad actually heard us. You have to yell loud for him to hear you, and it hurt his ears,” Sandoval says, wincing at the memory.

Being acutely aware of what a person is feeling is another product of Sandoval’s upbringing.

His expression darkens at the memory of last week’s basketball game at Antelope Valley. A fan made fun of John Sandoval’s inability to hear and speak.

“It makes me want to go over there and beat the crap out of them,” Rocque says, laughing nervously at the thought of doing something that cuts across the grain of his personality.

He throws up his hands. “I mean, show some respect.”

Sandoval could be excused for being reluctant to take off for college. But he and his parents scoff at any notion that he is needed at home.

“My family is the same as anyone else’s family,” he says as his parents nod in agreement. “There is nothing strange about it.”

The familiarity of New Mexico attracted Sandoval, who won’t turn 18 until October and plans to redshirt next season.

Among its appeals: topography similar to Palmdale and a substantial deaf population.

“I’ll try to get credit for signing as a second language and I might work as an interpreter for other students,” he says.

Karen Sandoval is studying at Antelope Valley College to be a counselor for children who cannot hear. When she earns her degree, the family might relocate to Oregon, where they believe job opportunities are greater for her and John, a construction worker.

That would take them even farther from their oldest son. If they live in Palmdale, they plan to attend New Mexico games at Fresno State and San Diego State.

If not, Rocque can simply write about the game and send it electronically over the telephone.

The family has a typewriter-like instrument called a Telecommunications Device for the Deaf attached to their phone that enables them to type a phone call.

Rocque re-enacts the few Palmdale games his parents have missed in either sport. He brings the games to life in the living room.

“I act out what happened,” he says as his parents grin gleefully at the memory. “I’ll stand here and actually show them how I did.”

Karen and John laugh without making a sound. They look lovingly at their son, then at each other.

So much unspoken. So much conveyed.