By the time I hit the 9th grade, Greg and I were seasoned veterans of boarding school. Some of the Brothers were taskmasters and some weren't. We had more fun with Brother Robert, the football coach and Brother Bill, even though he was the Prefect of Discipline. Great teachers and guys who really dedicated themselves to helping kids get a firm footing on life as we readied ourselves for high school.
Honorable mention must go to Brother Bosco. What a trip he was. Grey hair and a crew cut did not disguise the fact that he was a kidder and a player. One quote from him was "Life is cruel and thou must suffer much". I use it to this day. He was a great shot with an eraser and if you got caught talking in class he would let that eraser fly. WHAM, chalk everywhere. Reminded me of throwing the eraser at the nun during my St. Joseph days, the shot that resulted in my departure for Morris.
I spent more time in the library during my 9th grade year and by the time I graduated, I'd read more books about World War II than anybody. I remember Churchill and still use some of the quotes I learned from those studies. "War is about maneuver and slaughter. The better generals deliver more maneuver and require less slaughter".
In any event, we had more fun that year than any year previous. We knew the ropes and all the little kids looked up to us because we were pretty much dedicated to eliminating all the bullying. The Brothers had built a new friary and Greg and I were given permission to move into the old one. It was a hundred years old but moving from the senior dormitory to the old friary was like leaving prison and moving into the Waldorf.
There was a Brother Giles there and he was a veteran of World War II. He had the shakes and smoked like a chimney. He wouldn't tell us anything about the war and his experiences be we knew he'd had a boat load of combat time. One day, a kid named McKenzie screwed up and Brother Giles was the Brother who had to administer the swats. Swats were the number of hits your ass saw for any given infraction. Typically, they used a hand made paddle that started out as a 2 x 4 but had a custom made handle to fit your hands and holes drilled in the other end to reduce the air resistance and increase the speed as it landed on your ass. On that day, Brother Giles used a fishing rod and even we old veterans flinched at the sight.
Greg got more than his share but it wasn't because he was bad, it was because he got caught. We used to pay him to make a mile run to Center Hill, Arkansas where a convenience store was located. It was only a mile from school when you took the back road but it was strictly prohibited to go there or even leave the school property. One time I went with him and bought some bottle rockets. I guess that was the birth of my pyromania but despite that, I learned a great lesson about fire that I would use again in Vietnam.
The only bad experience I had that year came during the senior camp out. We went to the State Park and had a great time until Brother Edwin showed up. I don't remember the year I fell off the basketball goal and broke my arm but I do remember him hitting me right on the left arm where it had been broken in 4 places.
Do you remember the time I said "It was a good thing for him" when I was telling the story about Father Junkin hitting me in the face? Well, when Brother Edwin hit me, I picked up the closest weapon I could find, a shaving cream can, and commenced to put him in a head lock and using that can as a tool to put half moon shaped marks all over his head. I hit him time after time until he managed to get free. That's when he announced that it was time to go and the entire class had to pack up, get on the bus and return to Morris. I knew the shit was going to hit the fan so I mentally prepared for the "execution chamber".
That's what Brother Julius called it. Sometimes he would get on the intercom and announce the list of guilty parties who needed an ass whipping: "The following named individuals will report to the execution chamber immediately................Greg Crafts........Tim Butler....etc".
In any event, when we made it back to school after a 90 minute drive from the camp, I was given orders to report to the locker room at the gym. When I arrived there, I noticed six or seven of the Brothers sitting around the room waiting for me as I came in. I figured my ass would belong to them but I'd already decided to use offense instead of defense as my strategy to maneuver myself out of any trouble that was coming.
Brother Cyprian told me that hitting a man of the cloth was a most serious offense and one that would justify excommunication from the Catholic Church. I don't remember my opening remarks exactly but the message was clear. I told them all that IF an attack on my broken arm area by a grown man was part of the deal, I would QUIT the Catholic Church and make damn sure that when I left, so would the financial support from my family.
Despite that, I think that Brother Edwin ended up in more trouble than me as everything went back to normal and I graduated, said my good byes and left for summer vacation. All in all, it was far more fun and beneficial to me than any other 3 year period in my young life. I told my mother that I considered her decision to send me there as the best thing ever and that I recognized her as being one smart woman for doing that.
I only have a couple of additional stories to tell before I move into Vietnam but I wanted all of you to know that I had a very good childhood that was filled with discipline and an excellent education. My advice from all that is this: "Never hesitate to send a kid to boarding school if he appears to be headed to the wilder side of things in his early years". The other piece of advice has to do with assaulting an adult. "Never be afraid of hitting an adult if you are absolutely positive that they are in the wrong".
Using a BB gun is optional but I suggest that if that's the course needed, do it in the back and run like hell. It will be all right.
More later. Thanks for listening.
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quite interesting and informative! This writing actually gives reason .... to some-a-the 'crazy' about you, in a self proclaimed sorta way - but I know you well enough, true that!
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