Life Lessons

I ALMOST ALWAYS go to the Fourche Valley School Reunion. I always run on to a lot of old friends, and that gets memories going through my head that I thought I had forgotten.

     I saw Jim Roberson. He had such a strong handshake, it made me feel a little better about what happened to me forty seven years ago.

     I was in the sixth grade, tallest boy in grade school, I could run longer, if not faster, than anyone else, Just generally, one of the big boys.

     A couple of the younger, shorter guys, Jim happened to be one of them, got in a tussle at recess one day. I just sorta felt it was my obligation, as a big boy, to straighten these little guys out. I started pulling them apart. Well, Jim already had his adrenalin flowing, and he turned all his attention on me. It didn't take long to realize I should have minded my own business. Jim got me in some sort of hold that was just squeezing all the air out of me, and as a crowd gathered around us, he said, "Are you going to leave me alone?" I didn't want anyone else to hear, and my wind was gone anyway, so I whispered, in his ear. "Yes." He let me up. The next day, he brought a bunch of his friends around, pointed to me, and said, "There. That’s the guy I whipped yesterday." I told them I didn't remember that at all.

     Life lesson # 1: Being older, and taller, does not necessarily mean you won't get your butt whupped. And being able to run farther is no help at all. Although it might help you put some distance between you and him, minimize the damage, and put some distance between you and all those kids laughing at you. 

     A funny thing about memory. I didn't remember a thing about that whippin’ the next day, only to have it crop back up, 47 years later, when that strong hand started squeezing me again.

     A really young kid got really mad at me one day, I don't even remember why, but he just waded in on me with both fists flying, hitting me about the waist. He just kept on, wouldn't quit. Well, again a crowd was gathering, and I was not about to be seen hitting a really little kid. I was getting real embarrassed. Finally, Monty Dishongh said, "Pat, just get him in a wrestling hold." I did, and I had to hold him until recess was over.

     Life lesson # two: Looking at the size of the kid tells you nothing about the size of his heart. And he may come after you tomorrow. And the next day.

     I had a friend that was dirt pore', wore ragged, old patched clothes, the kind of guy a lot of kids shied away from. Lived over at Scrougeout. I went home with him one night. His mom was tickled, saying no one had ever done that before. She wrung the neck of her best hen, and we ate it for supper. All their beds were filled with hay, but they gave me the best one.

     In the middle of the night, car lights hit the house. The whole family ran to the front window, yelling, "Company! company!" Seemed to me like they had never had company before. Car was just turning around.

      Life lesson #three: Buddy up with the down and out kid. Sometimes, they will just give you the best they've got.

     That kid had needed glasses for a long, long time. One day he came to school with a brand new pair. We were wrestling, as kids do, at recess. I threw him down. As he got up, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his new, now broken, glasses. He just turned, put his head down, and headed back to the classroom.

     When I went in, after the bell rang, he was at his desk, head down, looking at those broken glasses. His glasses were soaked with his tears.

     After I got home, and off to myself, I shed some, too.

     Life lesson #four: Go easy with the pore kid with glasses. The will have to last him a long, long time.

      Me and my buddies were playing ball one day at recess. The biggest, meanest kid in grade school grabbed our ball and threw it across the fence into a briar patch. He just laughed and walked away, and not a one of us said anything. A little later, that same recess, his ball rolled over our way. Without thinking it through, I just grabbed his ball and sent it sailing into the same briar patch. I immediately regretted that decision. He walked toward me, rolling up his sleeves. His arms looked like tree trunks, and his fists looked bigger than a softball.

     We stood there, eye to eye. A crowd gathered. Rosemary Gilmore, trying to help me out of my pickle, stepped up right into his face and said, “Why don’t you just leave him alone? I don’t know about Pat, but I know Jack Larry can whip you.” I was hoping Jack Larry would step up, but when I looked around, I couldn’t see him anymore….

     I remembered that one time Butch Garner had gotten the best of this big guy one day, by just making the first move and popping him right in the left eye, and that guy had walked off crying. I tried that. Didn’t work. I now had knots all over my head. I tried the right eye. That didn’t work either. Now I got more knots in between that first batch of knots.

Life lesson number five:  Take a few more seconds, and think a little more before acting. And, just because it worked for Butch, didn’t mean it will work for me. Plus, take advantage of the fact that Rosemary had him distracted, and put wings to the feet.

     I hope I can pass one or two of these lessons along to my grandchildren someday. Maybe, just maybe, you can too.

     This year’s reunion is coming up, And, no matter how many guys Jim Roberson gets into a tussle with, I will totally be minding my own business.