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A Monthly Magazine
AUGUST 2001 ISSUE
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

Copyright ©2001 Dale Freeman. All rights reserved.


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