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I was in 4th grade at Hubble Elementary. Eddie Van Patten was in 6th grade. He was a big kid, even for a 12-year-old. He had a bowl cut, and freckles. Eddie was a troublemaker, but he never bothered me. One bitter cold January afternoon, he slipped on a patch of ice, hit the back of his head and died. Mr. Maguire, the gym coach said, It was the occipital bone. We were all told to feel the back of our heads. The coaches' eyes didn't have that sparkle anymore. He said, “You have to learn how to fall, always protect the back of your head. If you don’t land right, It can **** you.” For the next week, we practiced tumbling and learning to fall the right way. I was sad for Eddie, but I wanted to play dodgeball.
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Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 6:46 PM UTC
Poor Eddie Van Patten
I was in 4th grade at Hubble Elementary. Eddie Van Patten was in 6th grade. He was a big kid, even for a 12-year-old. He had a bowl cut, and freckles. Eddie was a troublemaker, but he never bothered me. One bitter cold January afternoon, he slipped on a patch of ice, hit the back of his head and died. Mr. Maguire, the gym coach said, It was the occipital bone. We were all told to feel the back of our heads. The coaches' eyes didn't have that sparkle anymore. He said, “You have to learn how to fall, always protect the back of your head. If you don’t land right, It can **** you.” For the next week, we practiced tumbling and learning to fall the right way. I was sad for Eddie, but I wanted to play dodgeball.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI
thomas-w-case
Written by
59/M/Clear Lake
Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 6:46 PM UTC
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