Mom and Dad went to high school in the 60s. They told me about greasers, nerds, and a few other cliques. Dad didn’t really belong to any particular group, but Mom said she thought he was a “punk” at the time, whatever that means. I figure he was just a regular kid. He did get in a couple of fights in Junior High, and one of them is a story he wasn’t shy to share.
PE class. The time honored location for bullying, ridiculing, and all kinds of mischief. This is either mortifying or mundane, depending on your point of view. This cauldron of teenage masculinity is where our unlikely hero emerges. Some idiot (aka middle school boy) decides to vandalize the lockers. The PE teacher is miffed. He lines up the boys and demands to know who is responsible. Everyone saw it happen, but despite threats and bribes, nobody will confess. The whole class is in for it unless someone fesses up. Young Robby could feel the pressure of knowing the truth, and the injustice of a blanket punishment, but he doesn’t want to be a snitch.
I saw that same characteristic many years later in my dad. He wasn’t shy about confronting someone when they were doing wrong, and he had a keen sense of fairness and rightness.
Eventually the secret is too much for our gym shorts clad crusader, and he surreptitiously tells the teacher what happened and who is to blame. Unfortunately, someone else in the class sees Robby’s confession and now the perp knows who the rat is. In a scene right out of a coming of age novel, the plan is to teach Robby a lesson.
Dad told me that he remembers finding out about plans to beat him up in the locker the next day. He figured that he had to fight back hard and win, or they would never leave him alone. (Again, it’s a classic tale, “Ender’s Game”, “The Outsiders”) He was always proud of the following scene.
Robby knows that they’re about to ambush him so he prepares himself. He lets the other kid throw the first punch and then instinct kicks in. He grabs the attacker’s greasy head and starts pounding it against the locker mercilessly. He goes berserk. At this point the gym teacher hears the ruckus, steps in, and pulls them apart. They are both sent to the man in charge of punishment at the school. Vice Principal Jones.
I knew the Vice Principal much later as Granddaddy Jones. He was my Uncle’s dad, not technically my grandfather, but at least in the South, everyone is an Aunt, Uncle, cousin or grandparent. Granddaddy Jones wasn’t a large man, but he was still somehow imposing. He was kind and he could laugh, but his default facial expression wasn’t one you wanted to argue with. I bet he was a strict disciplinarian as Vice Principal.
Mr. Jones is the judge, jury, and executioner at school. His authority is absolute. Like a police detective he unravels the stories of the various eye witnesses and comes to a conclusion. He calls Robby into his office. Robby uneasily sits down to await the verdict. The dread is palpable. Mr. Jones looks across the desk through his horn rimmed glasses, sighs, and gives a short lecture on the evils of brawling in school. Then he mentions the specifics of this particularly locker room fight. Mr. Jones knows all to well about the vandalism, and he is moved by Robby’s willingness to stand up for what is right. No punishment is forthcoming for young Robby. He is free to go.
Dad would tell this story as an example of how righteous deeds are rewarded. His interaction with the Vice Principal on that day helped to shape his view of the world. Dad’s view was in direct opposition to the sardonic phrase, “No good deed goes unpunished.” He firmly believed that living with honesty and moral integrity would benefit you both practically and spiritually. I think Mr. Jones’ response to that high school fight played a role in defining this belief. It was the final phrase from Mr. Jones that really stood out to Dad, even 45 years later.
Mr. Jones looks at the young man seated before him and says, “Robby, you’re a good citizen.”
That is definitely one of the phrases I would use to describe Dad. He believed in doing what was right. He served his country in the Navy. He voted. He preached. He counseled. He taught middle school and volunteered at the school after hours. His life epitomized good citizenship. Mr. Jones was right.