Over the next few days I will be posting some of my childhood memories. In the above picture the Boys Club is in the background.
Tom
It’s odd how something insignificant can force your mind to
wander into the past on occasion. Recently, while taking my wife to the
hospital in Wichita Falls in preparation for surgery, a loud voice drew my
attention to a gentleman my age in a wheelchair. He was instructing a person
where to push him. The man’s voice, and his features triggered something in my
brain, and I was again on the San Jacinto elementary school grounds.
Our memories of childhood often
reflect on some of the more frightening moments. Though we try to recall the
good times, like first date, first kiss, or even that first bicycle. At times
other things are brought to mind that may not be all that pleasant. My
childhood was filled with many such unpleasant memories.
I attended
San Jacinto elementary school in Wichita Falls between 1947 and 1953; sometime
around 1951, when I was eleven, we had a boy in school that was much taller
than the rest of us. Being bigger, he tended to be a bully, and pushed the rest
of us around on the playground. So we knew to stay out of his way. This kid
always acted like he was the Frankenstein monster, walking stiff-legged, with
his arms outstretched as if to grab one of us. He took pleasure in seeing us
scatter. One day he even stuck something that looked like bolts on both sides
of his neck! He was his own Frankenstein monster.
I had a
good friend I’d known about four years, since we moved to Wichita Falls. He was
a little bit fat, and maybe somewhat awkward, but he was my buddy. It all
started at recess one day, when something happened – I don’t know what – but
suddenly the kid we called Frankenstein jumped on my pal and was hitting him.
Sometimes I do things without thinking. I jumped on the monster!
We had just
started swinging when the bell rang, calling an end to recess. We headed for
the school building. Frankenstein threatened, “I’ll see you after school!”
I said
something like, “Good!”
Unfortunately,
I had the rest of the day to think about what this monster was going to do to
me after school. It wasn’t a good thought. He would look at me from across the
classroom, and snarl.
Time cannot
be halted, however, and eventually the bell ending the day finally sounded, and
I knew it was time for me to die. Frankenstein was going to kill me. But
instead of running home like a sane person, I stopped outside the door and
waited for the inevitable. Maybe I had a slim chance, I thought. My
heavyset pal was nowhere to be seen, he was smart and got away from school
quickly. He wasn’t about to wait around for the monster to tear me from limb to
limb, and then start on him!
Well, I
waited, and I waited. Just about all of the kids had left the building, and was
headed home, only a few stragglers remained. The longer I waited the braver I
got. Frankenstein is scared of me! I thought. Well, it was worth
thinking anyway. Just as I was sure the
last kid had left the building, a boy came out who remembered about the fight.
“Hey,
Frankenstein is waiting for you on the north side of the building!” he yells.
“I’ll go get him!”
The
north side of the building! Of course, the San Jacinto school building was
built in a square, with four sides, four exits! While I had been waiting on the
west side, the monster was waiting for me on the north side of the building.
Thankfully,
I didn’t have much time to think about my predicament. In no time at all,
Frankenstein came running around the building anxious to dismember me. I don’t
know who threw the first punch, but we were quickly swinging meaningful
headshots; we weren’t skilled fighters, as you can imagine. But I was giving as
good as I was getting, and the monster was starting to cry. Maybe I was too.
But we kept on throwing those headshots with hard knuckles, and neither of us
had gone down.
Suddenly,
someone yelled, “The principal is coming.” That ended the fight. Everyone
scattered, included Frankenstein. I raced for home also.
I don’t
remember if I worried about the monster that night, or not. But the next day
school was normal. Frankenstein didn’t approach me. In fact, he never bothered
my buddy or me again. Like all bullies, once someone stands up to them, they
become less aggressive. But it wasn’t bravery on my part believe me. I had
merely acted instinctively, without thinking. If I had had a second to stop and
think, I would never have jumped on the Frankenstein monster that day!
There is
something of an addendum to this story. In 5th Grade art class one
day, our teacher gave us an afternoon assignment. Each of us was to draw a
self-portrait of what we wanted to be as an adult. After we finished, she
picked up the drawings and glanced through them, and then selected mine and
Frankenstein’s to hold up in front of the class. I had drawn a sheriff with a
badge on his chest, and Frankenstein had drawn jail bars with him looking out.
What she said kind of chilled me. She said, “What you have seen is these
drawing is what you will become.”
I didn’t become a sheriff, though I
did become a cop for twenty years. I wonder if Frankenstein ended up behind
bars? I don’t remember his name, except for what we called him, nor did I ever
see him again after leaving San Jacinto school. There were other fights, some
even more memorable than the day I fought Frankenstein, but few that I remember
as vividly.
Was the old
man in the wheelchair my Frankenstein monster? I don’t know. I would have felt
foolish going up and asking him. From the wheelchair, he posed no threat today,
if he was. I’m sure he would have had many fights over the years, so our little
encounter at age eleven would not have been something he was likely to recall.
I merely watched him a while and remembered other times in my childhood with
fonder memories.
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