Walkers and Stalkers

 

Dear friends, family, and frenemies,

    "Watch out when you walk by the tavern.  Men will beckon you in to have a drink.  Don't fall for it," my mother warned me and my siblings when we walked to and from school each day.  While this never happened to any of us as far as I know, I always imagined that it might as I peered into the dark smoky bar.  I was also warned not to interact with the old men who sat all day on the low concrete fence that surrounded the courthouse.  Perhaps they were harmless, but they seemed scary to me. I can still picture one of them: a very tall man with a bum leg who had longish hair and wore dirty overalls.  He would wander around downtown and sit and smoke as we walked by.

    At the end of the school day, the principal would announce "north line" or "south line." I have never been able to tell directions, but I knew I had to get into the "south line." The patrol boy in a white belt would lead us single file for a few blocks, helping us cross the street.  After that, we were on our own. 

    A lot could happen on that daily two-mile trek that my two older brothers and older sister and I traveled each day.  As the youngest, I had to work hard to keep up with the rest, lest I be left to the old men sitting around the square.  I remember window shopping at Woolworth's and stopping at the gas station for a paper cone full of water.  When my brother got into junior high, he would hand me or my sister his lunch and tell us to wait until he had walked the long block past the high school by himself.  He didn't want to be seen walking with his little sisters or carrying his paper lunch bag.

    My husband told me a tale of what happened to him when he was seven or eight. I think my grandkids and their parents would flip if such an experience happened to them.  So, here goes.

    This story takes place in New Jersey circa 1957.  Bobby was eight or nine.  One day the Varone brothers, identical twins who were a few years older, blocked his path.  While Michael and Robert Varone had the same face, one's face was very long, while the other's was very wide.  Can't you just picture it? They told him that he was in trouble and that they had orders to take him back to their leader at the school yard.  Bobby didn't know what they were talking about, but he went with them.  He was scared. When they got to the school yard, their "boss" was furious with the Varones.  He said that he needed them to bring him Jimmy O'Connor, not Bobby O'Connell. They had nabbed the wrong guy.  Bobby went home and told his mother.  She was furious.  She called Mrs. Varone and let her have it.  How dare her boys mistreat Bobby?  Who did they think they were? She was tempted to call the authorities. It turns out that Mrs. Varone had just gotten home from the hospital when Bobby's mother called her.

    Flash forward a few days.  The Varone Brothers - one with a long face and one with a wide one -- caught up with Bobby at the baseball field with nary an adult in sight.  He was standing beside his bicycle.  They were very mad that Bobby's mother had called and upset their mother.  They said that he had to pay for what his mother had done to their mother.  One of them said, "Just let me punch you one time in the face, and we'll call it even."  Bobby reluctantly agreed.  As the big Varone brother pulled back his fist to land his punch, Bobby stepped back at the last minute.  The brother fell over Bobby's bike, knocked it over, fell flat on his face, and began to wail.  Bobby's friends laughed as the crying twin and his brother ran off.  I'm not sure if Bobby told his mother this part of the story, but I hope he did.

    The culture of walking to and from school is mostly gone now.  Kids are dropped off and picked up from school by parents or day care vans.  In the U.S., about 11% of kids walk to and from school. Unlike past generations, they haven't lived through the varied, rich, and sometimes scary experiences that fending for oneself at a young age can provide.

Walking and talking,

I remain

Tizzie/Tiz/Mom/Tizmom/Grandma/Liz

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