Dealing with the Local Bully
You hear a lot about bullying nowadays, but back in the 50’s when I was a kid, not so much. We had a family of them on the road where I lived. They were always causing trouble in some way or another. No matter how much we complained to the parents it seemed like nothing was ever done to rectify the situation. Back in the ’50s, we knew our neighbors and we were a tight-knit community. But in every community, there can be some who want to cause trouble. I felt sorry for the mother of this family, she seemed nice but her husband and the older boys could be very mean.
One day a group of us were walking home from school when one of the boys opened fire on us with a high-powered Be Be Gun. Three of us were hit, one in the leg, another in the arm, and me across the top of my head. We all started yelling and running my brother and I lived at the end of the road as well as the boy who was shot in the leg. By the time we got home, I had blood running down the side of my head. Mom sat me down in the kitchen and sent my brother for my dad who was out in his shop.
Dad came running in asking where I had been shot. Mom was holding a towel on my head telling him it had grazed the top of my head and had been stopped by the Barrett I had in my hair. Dad asked who else had been shot and who we thought had done the shooting. My brother had to tell him because I was crying, first because it hurt, then because I was scared. We were loaded into the car and went to the houses of the other two kids that had been hit. Then we all went to the local police department. Each of us had to give a statement to the police, pictures were taken of our injuries, and we were sent home and advised to go see our doctor. Tommy had to have the pellet dug out of his leg, Peter’s arm was only bruised because of the heavy jacket he was wearing, I had a cut about 3 inches long, but I didn’t have to have stitches.
Dad wanted to take care of the situation himself but was warned against it, telling him to let the authorities handle it. Dad being ex-military and a professional Boxer had a very hard time keeping it to himself. We could hear him out in his shop taking his frustration out on his punching bag.
A few days later we had to go back in to talk to a judge at the courthouse. We were told that because we were all miners we would not have to appear in court but the weapon had been confiscated and the boy would be dealt with. We found that the teenage boy who had shot us was sent to a juvenile facility. His brothers would yell at us when we walked by so mom took us to school for the rest of the semester. We never heard what happened to the boy that shot the gun but we were told that it was kept by the police.
I still have the scar on my head, if the Be Be had hit an inch lower I might not be here telling this story. I thank the Lord for having his hand on me that day.
Bullying has been around down through the ages. Seem like each generation has its unique form of bullies. It is never good no matter what the form. Someone always gets hurt. I pray that you and yours never go thru having been bullied. If you or someone you know are being bullied, tell someone, don’t suffer alone.