I had a conversation with an old friend recently and she reminded of the time I punched a guy in the face who had attempted to grope her. It was over 30 years ago and I had nearly forgotten about it but it stuck with her because it was the only time someone had ever used violence to defend her. I typically think of myself as more of a "live and let live" pacifist who sees the wisdom in walking away from a fight, but I have to admit that there is something gratifying in being remembered as a sort of Clint Eastwood defender of women!
That got me remembering even further back when fist fights were a normal part of my life when I was 12 years old. We lived on the Ft. Hall Indian Reservation in Idaho at that time. I don't know if fights were a normal part of the culture or if the Indian kids always beat up the white kids or if I was just there during a bad year but I was getting my butt kicked at least weekly. The first time it happens to you is shocking and terrifying. I didn't know what I had done to piss this guy off and when I realized that an adult wasn't going to step in and save me, I basically just tried to cover my face and begged him to stop as I got pummeled. I also wasn't aware of the playground code of no tattling and went straight to a teacher with my story. The bully was punished but the next day on the playground, so was I. I still didn't fight back and the best strategy I could come up with was to stay in the classroom during recess, but this just meant they waited for me after school. I started faking sick to avoid school and my parents got involved and we had a meeting with the principal.
Mr. Broadhead heard my story and he sympathized but at some point he looked at me and said, "You have to fight back, Jim. They'll stop coming after you if they know you can hurt them." I can't imagine an elementary school principal telling a student that today but this was 1972 and it was some of the best advice I ever received. I started taking a few swings and would connect once in awhile, but it was a month or so before I got an official "win". Robert Blackfoot punched me right in the nose and I was losing blood through both nostrils. I managed to take the fight to the ground and get on top of him but I had to hang on with both arms so I couldn't really hit him. I did manage to get in a few head butts that didn't do any real damage but the whole time I had him down, I was bleeding all over him. A lot. His face and shirt were covered in blood...my blood. When a teacher finally pulled us both up by our collars, the crowd saw a little bit of blood under my nose, but Robert was a red gooey mess! I heard the impressed gasps from everyone as we were hauled into Mr. Broadhead's office. He chewed us both out but then held me back and smiled and congratualted me. He predicted that they would start leaving me alone now.
That wasn't entirely true, but the rumor did circulate that I had nearly killed Robby Blackfoot and I did get picked on a lot less. I still had to fight occasionally and I learned that if you were fighting fair then you weren't trying very hard. My specialties were the throat punch, the eye gouge, and using my elbows as weapons. Not exactly heroic type of fighting but the object was to hurt him as quickly as possible to stop the fight before getting hurt yourself.
Fortunately, my new skills were seldom used in the past 37 years and I hope I never find myself in a situation again where a head butt is necessary. But I hope I always remember Mr. Broadhead's very good advice. Sometimes "You have to fight back."
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Beyond the Canyon Walls
At 21 I decided I was going to hitch hike around the country, and as you can imagine, this was not a popular decision with my parents. They pointed out the dangers and made me feel guilty about how much my mother would worry.
I did it anyway.
My mother said many, many prayers for me and perhaps that's why I came back safe with many stories (mostly true) about my grand adventure. But when I came back she said something that most parents say to their children that has turned out to be a curse. She said, "One day I hope your son does the same thing so that you will know how it feels."
Tomorrow, I will know what she felt but the child to fulfill this prophesy is my daughter. My Baby Girl. My Tom Boy Princess. My Little Wildflower. My 20 year old "Not a child, not quite an adult" beautiful, good hearted, hippie child.
Tomorrow she will put on a backpack and head out to explore the American West with her best friend Katie. I don't know if they'll exactly be dancing with wolves but they plan on living pretty primitively to accomodate their nearly empty budget.
Threats, logic, bribery, and promises have not dissuaded her. So as she's awed by the grandeur of the Tetons, I will be vistited by my Mother's worry from 27 years ago. As she is inspired by the beauty of Yellowstone, I'll make sure my cell phone is always charged and my gas tank is full in case she is in need of rescuing. As she is trying to stay dry and warm in her tent in Oregon, I'll be watching the weather channel at 2am. As she explores the Redwood's, San Francisco, Yosemite, Zion, Bryce, and the SoCal beaches, she'll be wearing my old Army dogtags as a talisman. But if that's not enough to protect her, I'll be relying on the kindness of strangers if my little girl needs help.
Which brings me to my next point... if any of my friends who live near any of those places have a spot on the couch and can pick up a couple of cold, hungry girls if they need it...drop me a line and let me know if I can give them your phone number. I'll owe you!
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome,dangerous, leading to the most awesome view.May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and
castles and poets' towers into a dark primeval forest
where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient
unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled
cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches,
where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the
high crags, where something strange and more beautiful
and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams wait
for you - beyond the next turning of the canyon walls.
- Edward Abbey
I did it anyway.
My mother said many, many prayers for me and perhaps that's why I came back safe with many stories (mostly true) about my grand adventure. But when I came back she said something that most parents say to their children that has turned out to be a curse. She said, "One day I hope your son does the same thing so that you will know how it feels."
Tomorrow, I will know what she felt but the child to fulfill this prophesy is my daughter. My Baby Girl. My Tom Boy Princess. My Little Wildflower. My 20 year old "Not a child, not quite an adult" beautiful, good hearted, hippie child.
Tomorrow she will put on a backpack and head out to explore the American West with her best friend Katie. I don't know if they'll exactly be dancing with wolves but they plan on living pretty primitively to accomodate their nearly empty budget.
Threats, logic, bribery, and promises have not dissuaded her. So as she's awed by the grandeur of the Tetons, I will be vistited by my Mother's worry from 27 years ago. As she is inspired by the beauty of Yellowstone, I'll make sure my cell phone is always charged and my gas tank is full in case she is in need of rescuing. As she is trying to stay dry and warm in her tent in Oregon, I'll be watching the weather channel at 2am. As she explores the Redwood's, San Francisco, Yosemite, Zion, Bryce, and the SoCal beaches, she'll be wearing my old Army dogtags as a talisman. But if that's not enough to protect her, I'll be relying on the kindness of strangers if my little girl needs help.
Which brings me to my next point... if any of my friends who live near any of those places have a spot on the couch and can pick up a couple of cold, hungry girls if they need it...drop me a line and let me know if I can give them your phone number. I'll owe you!
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome,dangerous, leading to the most awesome view.May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and
castles and poets' towers into a dark primeval forest
where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient
unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled
cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches,
where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the
high crags, where something strange and more beautiful
and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams wait
for you - beyond the next turning of the canyon walls.
- Edward Abbey
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
My Best Father's Day Gift
Father's Day presents come and go and I don't really remember most of the gifts that I have received over the years. There is one in particular though that the kids gave me (Jonah claims it was him) that stands out because it has had a lot of use.
They gave me a Leki collapsible walking stick about 10 years ago and I've used it for several hundred miles and I climbed 16 peaks of over 14,000 feet and several smaller ones. It's saved a lot of wear on my bad knee and last month it may have saved my life.
During our recent backpacking trip, we ended up hiking in two groups with the faster hikers in front. I was visiting with the back group and left them to catch up to my kids in the front so I was temporarily hiking alone. The two foot wide trail had risen to about 70 feet above the river when I just stepped off. I didn't stumble or trip and the trail didn't collapse. My left foot just stepped completely off the ledge. I threw myself to the right and my trusty Leki walking pole held my weight (and 30 pounds of pack) for about 2 seconds before it snapped in two and my face hit the trail. But those 2 seconds bought me enough time to stabalize most of my weight on level ground as my legs hung down. I had a banged up face and a broken pole but was otherwise OK.
Best gift ever, kids...but, uh...can I please get another?
They gave me a Leki collapsible walking stick about 10 years ago and I've used it for several hundred miles and I climbed 16 peaks of over 14,000 feet and several smaller ones. It's saved a lot of wear on my bad knee and last month it may have saved my life.
During our recent backpacking trip, we ended up hiking in two groups with the faster hikers in front. I was visiting with the back group and left them to catch up to my kids in the front so I was temporarily hiking alone. The two foot wide trail had risen to about 70 feet above the river when I just stepped off. I didn't stumble or trip and the trail didn't collapse. My left foot just stepped completely off the ledge. I threw myself to the right and my trusty Leki walking pole held my weight (and 30 pounds of pack) for about 2 seconds before it snapped in two and my face hit the trail. But those 2 seconds bought me enough time to stabalize most of my weight on level ground as my legs hung down. I had a banged up face and a broken pole but was otherwise OK.
Best gift ever, kids...but, uh...can I please get another?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
