It was in eighth grade that Austin wanted us to jump out of our classroom window, hit the ground with a roll and end up on the sidewalk. You have got to understand that I liked the idea of jumping off things. I liked short things, maybe as high as a low roof. However, Our classroom was on the second floor with classrooms that had ten-foot ceilings and the buildings basement was half way out the ground. Then you had to jump over an eight-foot wide walkway around the base of the school and then tumble down a short hill before you got to the sidewalk. I figured that jump would be 16-18 feet or more. If we survived, something was bound to be broken. “No, nothing will happen. We can do it.” Right. I went to the window and looked down figuring I needed binoculars to see the ground.
Austin was not about to give up. On a beautifully warm day with the windows open and Mrs. Deets having stepped out of the class for a moment, Austin looked at me and said, “Now.” He went to the window, sat on the ledge and pushed off. The entire class ran to the window to see his totally smashed up body, lying on the sidewalk below. But he wasn’t lying broken on the ground; he was standing up and smiling up at us.
Mrs. Deets returned to the class and joined us saying, “What are you looking at.” Everyone immediately scattered back to his or her seats, except me. See looked out the window and saw Austin. “”What are you doing down there?” She hesitated for a moment, “How did you get there?” “I jumped.” “You what?” “Jumped.”
After some hemming and hawing, “Get back up here right now.” It was when Austin moved that I knew he was hurt. He limped away and had a hard time getting back up the stairs to our floor. He didn’t break anything, but he was sore for days.
Mrs. Deets scheduled our eighth grade graduation party at a roller skating rink on Dodge. This is before the days of school busses. We all were to get there as best we could. It was a long walk, but Austin, Bob and I hiked and ran all the way. It was a nice warm Saturday morning and we had a great time just getting there. We were all looking forward to it. None of us had ever been on skates before. It was going to be a new experience.
While standing in line waiting to pay our fee and get in, I was approached by this short stubby Danny DeVito looking man munching on a cigar. He had come from the building and pulled me aside to ask if I was with those two black boys. “Yes.” “You can come in, but not them.” I had never heard of that happening (socially unaware) and began to argue with him. “But our teacher planned this party and was inside. I’m sure she can straighten this out.” “I don’t care if the president is inside, they ain’t gettin’ in.”
The boys pulled on my arm and said it was OK. “Go on in. We’ll find something else to do.” “No, I’m not going in without you guys.” Bob said, “I didn’t want to go anyway. Let’s go to a movie.” I had already told them I would go with them, but I was not permitted to attend movies. The only movie I had ever seen before was 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea at the Paramount Theater. It was a citywide safety patrol gathering. I had been given a special dispensation, allowed only because it would be all kids and teachers.
We went to see a western at the Paramount, but this time I was a nervous wreck. Bad things happen in movie theaters. I could hear it in my head. Just approaching the ticket booth my heart began to race. Surely Jesus was about to come. I just knew it. How would I feel if Jesus came while I was in there? Sweat poured off my forehead, but I went just to see the bad things that were happening and were clearly going to happen to me. I was doomed. Do not pass go, do not collect two dollars. Go straight to hell. I was so petrified I could not enjoy the movies at all.
It was a western. It was something about cattle rustling. One of the characters was a teenage boy. I don’t know why they did this to him, but he was hanged. I saw myself as that boy. I was going to be hanged. All I wanted to do was get out of there before Jesus came. I knew I was done for it if He came that day. I didn’t see any bad things. I was the bad thing. I was afraid to go home. I doubted I was going to survive the night.
(PS: It started snowing again to night. I’m planning on taking a few people shopping tomorrow. If there is snow on the ground, we will not be using the bus. We have already missed two trips because of issues with the bus, the weather or the wheelchair lift. If that fails, I guess I will run a couple of trips in my van to get them all there. I am not going to mess this trip up. Of course, we face another potential problem. The one who used the bus last, did not return the key. If she had the crude that is currently going around her, she may still not be well enough to get the keys back. I love the excitement of my lift. Yuck!)
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