CUPS OF COFFEE
Ambushed After School
It began with noontime play in the high school gymnasium. I was a sophomore.
It was a game of keep-a-way among the kids who ate their lunch in the gym. A
big ball was the treasure to keep away from the other team. The teams were
large, probably 30 boys and girls on each team. The whole gym, bleachers and
all, was the court of play.
It was a rowdy game, with boys yelling, girls screaming, lots of minor
collisions and bursts of laughter. I remember being somewhat aware of bumping
someone while leaping in the air for the ball. I came down with the ball,
quickly passed it to a team mate across the gym, when out of the corner of my
eye I saw Sammy coming at me with his fist cocked ready to deliver a blow. I
tried to duck but his fist glanced off the side of my head. I responded by
grabbing him and throwing him to the floor. I held him there only a moment
for the very stern Mr. Pinkerton, the lunch hour monitor, arrived almost
immediately. Every one was quick to take my part while no one was supporting
Sammy's claim that I had hit him and knocked him to the floor. Mr. Pinkerton
was a large man, gray haired, very dignified, and the very image of
authority. As a young man he had served as an MP in World War I. He explained
that he had watched the whole episode and had seen nothing to warrant Sammy's
attack. He was therefore ejecting Sammy from the gymnasium. I figured that he
would toss us both out but he let me stay. Sammy left with a fury filled
countenance, and we continued play as before.
I had known Sam and his brother for several years. Their father and mother
had worked for my father at the rubber factory on the north end of town. But
I first knew them from the couple of years they had attended the old grade
school north of Jonesboro. Sam was my age or a bit older but a grade behind
me in school. Jim was in my grade but two years older. All afternoon they
bragged to kids that they were going to get me after school and displayed
knives as if to say, "This is how!"
I tried to play 'Mr. Cool', "Aw, don't worry. They're just talking." Never
the less, a whole gang of kids anticipated a fight and gathered to follow me
to where ever this great event would take place. My 'mister cool' facade was
shaken a little when Mr. Pinkerton, who had been my dad's principal in high
school, caught up with me in a hallway. He softly whispered in my ear, "Be
careful!"
The Jonesboro School was a typical set of brick buildings facilitating all
twelve grades. The property sat on the south end of town at the ends of Water
and Main streets. I lived two miles from school. There were no school buses.
Everyone walked. It was one mile to the north end of town and then another
mile through the countryside to my house along the river. Jim and Sam lived
in the north west corner of town and our paths often crossed after school.
It was reported that Jim and Sam left immediately after school. I was in
hopes of avoiding a showdown, but the fifteen or so chattering kids following
me were eagerly anticipating a fight. Main Street was twelve blocks long,
exactly one mile. After three or four blocks of no Jim or Sam, I became more
encouraged that a confrontation might be avoided. Of course, I in no way
conveyed any clue to the gang that I was hoping to avoid a fight. The street
was broad and paved with bricks. It was also lined with huge trees and every
beautiful block brought more encouragement to my heart that suspense packed
afternoon. When the gang of kids got to the end of Main they were beginning
to think the fight talk was just 'talk', and I was relieved that Jim and Sam
had not showed. While the kids were all milling and mulling around, 'Mr.
Cool' bid them adieu and headed confidently down the road.
The road went down a hill to where a large concrete bridge crossed a broad
chasm and a small stream. 'Mr. Cool' was feeling good that he had avoided a
fight while still getting to enjoy all the attention. There was a slight bend
in the road as it approached the bridge allowing me to peek over my shoulder
out of the corner of my eye. The gang of kids was still milling around. When
I returned my attention to the road, I saw them. Jim and Sam had been waiting
below the bridge. Jim came up on the right side of the road…Sam on left side.
I took everything in…they each had a blue bandanna in hand filled with what
probably was rocks. They twirled them around as if to threaten, muttering
something about "You're not getting away with this." They noticed that I saw
their brother-in-law's Model A coup parked down at the Kokomo Road
intersection. "Yeah, he's going to pick us up when we're through with you."
I took on the alertness of a trapped cat. I was watching the twirling
weighted bandannas but I also was wary of anyone pulling a knife with their
free hand. I had seen Jim throw his knife at targets. He was good!
Unfortunately there was no traffic on the road even though it was a state
highway. Probably the whole incident only took a minute or two, where in my
memory it took more than a half an hour.
I kept maneuvering to keep them at a safe distance but ever watching for the
knife. They must have read my eyes for Sam suddenly shoved his free hand in
his pocket as if to get something. This distracted me long enough for Jim to
step toward me and pop me on the side of the head just above my ear with his
rock filled bandanna.
Everything went 'slo-mo'…all the strength seemed to slowly drain from my body
as I crumpled to the ground. I was conscious but unable to move. Sam was on
top of me. I watched him as he placed his rock filled bandanna in his fist
and hit me in the mouth. I saw the fist coming but was to stunned too move. I
was conscious but helpless. I tried to lift my arms but they were as heavy as
lead. Then I saw their get away car pull up. I heard them discussing throwing
me over the bridge. I was scared!
I was at the peak of my fright when I heard the commotion…the gang of kids
had seen it happening, and were yelling and running down the hill. Sam and
Jim apparently tried to get into the car and get away, but some of the bigger
guys like Jim Bateman pulled them out of the car and started a major assault
on their face and bodies. Two men in nearby houses had seen it all happen.
They came and broke up the fight.
Mr. Scott took me to his house. I had been his paperboy when I was a
'grade-schooler'. I was pretty much covered with blood. The wound on the side
of my head had bled quite a lot, leaving blood all over my ear, neck and
shoulder. The blow to the mouth had broken a tooth off and there was blood
all over my face and the front of my shirt. I'm sure I must have looked much
worse than I felt. Mrs. Scott carefully washed off some of the blood. Then
Mr. Scott drove me home.
Well dear friends, I am here to tell you that going a few months with a front
tooth missing doesn't do much to help a sophomore boy with his shyness.
However, the opportunity to demonstrate a Christian relationship with proven
'enemies' was a maturing experience for this young teenager. I will share
this life changing experience with you in the next issue of 'Cups of Coffee'.
GS 07/17/01
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