The Day I Fought –
Frankenstein!
It’s odd how something
insignificant can force your mind to wander into the past on occasion.
Recently, while taking my wife to the hospital in Wichita Falls in preparation
for surgery, a loud voice drew my attention to a gentleman my age in a
wheelchair. He was instructing a person where to wheel him. The man’s voice,
and his features triggered something in my brain, and I was again on the San
Jacinto elementary school grounds.
Tom With The Boys
Club In The Background
Our memories of childhood often
reflect on some of the more frightening momentsof our life. Though we try to
recall the good times, like our first date, first kiss, or even that first
bicycle. At times other things are brought to mind that may not be all that
pleasant. My childhood was filled with many such unpleasant memories.
I attended San Jacinto elementary
school in Wichita Falls between 1947 and 1953; sometime around 1951, when I was
about eleven, we had a boy in school that was much taller than the rest of us.
Being bigger, he tended to be a bully, and pushed the rest of us around on the
playground. So we knew to stay out of his way. This kid always acted like he
was the Frankenstein monster, walking stiff-legged, with his arms outstretched
as if to grab one of us. He took pleasure in seeing us scatter. One day he even
stuck something that looked like bolts on both sides of his neck! He was his
own Frankenstein monster.
I had a good friend I’d known
about four years, since we moved to Wichita Falls. He was a little bit fat, and
maybe somewhat awkward, but he was my buddy. It all started at recess one day,
when something happened – I don’t know what – but suddenly the kid we called
Frankenstein jumped on my pal and was hitting him. Sometimes I do things
without thinking. I jumped on the monster!
Tom On A 1946 Nash
We had just started swinging when
the bell rang, calling an end to recess. We headed for the school building.
Frankenstein threatened, “I’ll see you after school!”
I said something like, “Good!”
Unfortunately, I had the rest of
the day to think about what this monster was going to do to me after school. It
wasn’t a good thought. He would look at me from across the classroom, and
snarl.
Time cannot be halted, however,
and eventually the bell ending the day finally sounded, and I knew it was time
for me to die. Frankenstein was going to kill me. But instead of running home
like a sane person, I stopped outside the door and waited for the inevitable. Maybe
I had a slim chance, I thought. My heavyset pal was nowhere to be seen, he
was smart and got away from school quickly. He wasn’t about to wait around for
the monster to tear me from limb to limb, and then start on him!
Well, I waited, and I waited.
Just about all of the kids had left the building, and was headed home, only a
few stragglers remained. The longer I waited the braver I got. Frankenstein
is scared of me! I thought. Well, it was worth thinking anyway. Just as I was sure the last kid had left the
building, a boy came out who remembered about the fight.
“Hey, Frankenstein is waiting for
you on the north side of the building!” he yells. “I’ll go get him!”
The north side of the
building! Of course, the San Jacinto school building was built in a square,
with four sides, four exits! While I had been waiting on the west side, the
monster was waiting for me on the north side of the building.
Thankfully, I didn’t have much
time to think about my predicament. In no time at all, Frankenstein came
running around the building anxious to dismember me. I don’t know who threw the
first punch, but we were quickly swinging meaningful headshots; we weren’t
skilled fighters, as you can imagine. But I was giving as good as I was
getting, and the monster was starting to cry. Maybe I was too. But we kept on
throwing those headshots with hard knuckles, and neither of us had gone down.
Suddenly, someone yelled, “The
principal is coming.” That ended the fight. Everyone scattered, included
Frankenstein. I raced for home also.
I don’t remember if I worried
about the monster that night, or not. But the next day school was normal.
Frankenstein didn’t approach me. In fact, he never bothered my buddy or me
again. Like all bullies, once someone stands up to them, they become less
aggressive. But it wasn’t bravery on my part believe me. I had merely acted
instinctively, without thinking. If I had had a second to stop and think, I
would never have jumped on the Frankenstein monster that day!
There is something of an addendum
to this story. In 5th Grade art class one day, our teacher gave us
an afternoon assignment. Each of us was to draw a self-portrait of what we
wanted to be as an adult. After we finished, she picked up the drawings and
glanced through them, and then selected mine and Frankenstein’s to hold up in
front of the class. I had drawn a sheriff with a badge on his chest, and
Frankenstein had drawn jail bars with him looking out. What she said kind of
chilled me. She said, “What you have seen in these drawing is what you will
become.”
I didn’t become a sheriff, though
I did become a cop for twenty years. I wonder if Frankenstein ended up behind
bars? I don’t remember his name, except for what we called him, nor did I ever
see him again after leaving San Jacinto school. There were other fights, some
even more violent than the day I fought Frankenstein, but few that I remember
as vividly.
Was the old man in the wheelchair
my Frankenstein monster? I don’t know. I would have felt foolish going up and
asking him. From the wheelchair, he posed no threat today, if he was. I’m sure he
would have had many fights over the years, so our little encounter at age
eleven would not have been something he was likely to recall. I merely watched
him a while and remembered other times in my childhood with fonder memories.
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