Jun 2023
I have always been a quiet guy and did not want to talk before crowds.
The Old Days
Going from country school to city school had its interesting times. We had to take a test to get into high school and I still remember my score being 10.4. The over and out thing on Car 54.
My brother Ed was the company boxing champ when he was in Korea in 52. When he returned from Korea and came to the farm he would bring his boxing gloves and he taught me the fine points of the art.
I could defend myself but never needed to prove it. All through my freshman year **** M was always giving me a bad time. Sophomore year it continued until about Christmas time. At that time I had had enough. I was walking up to Main and **** and his two buddies were following me saying their usual bad stuff. Now **** out weighed by 100 pounds at least but enough was enough. I set my books down off the sidewalk. Noting I was right next to the morgue and thinking “one of us could end up in there”. Turning around... I motioned with open hand and quietly said to ****... “ok ****... let’s get this over with”. His eyes went rather big and he backed up. The three of them vanished back down the street. **** was very nice to me after that. We never had any harsh words. Sometimes you must stand up and confront the problem.
Sometime later kids started calling me Sullivan. I let it go for a while. Then I asked someone “why are you and others calling me Sullivan”? Did not get an answer other than “your name is John L Stevens so... you are like John L Sullivan.” Did not compute. Sullivan was a well known prize fighter. I’ve often wondered if the **** thing had anything to do with it.
Coming out of the sticks into the big city school was interesting the first few weeks. The city boys would come up and would put a hand out for a shake. Not chocolate. They would try to squeeze my hand hard but it didn’t bother me. The third week I decided that I would squeeze back. Now maybe they didn’t know that I milked cows by hand. So the next one got squeezed... hard. It hurt some me thinks. Word apparently traveled fast as that was the last fun hand shake I had. I’m old now but I have never been hit in the face in all this time. Except with boxing gloves. No need to cause trouble but be ready to defend yourself and others. What I taught my kids and grandkids over the years.
Ok enough of that.
The Old Days
Going from country school to city school had its interesting times. We had to take a test to get into high school and I still remember my score being 10.4. The over and out thing on Car 54.
My brother Ed was the company boxing champ when he was in Korea in 52. When he returned from Korea and came to the farm he would bring his boxing gloves and he taught me the fine points of the art.
I could defend myself but never needed to prove it. All through my freshman year **** M was always giving me a bad time. Sophomore year it continued until about Christmas time. At that time I had had enough. I was walking up to Main and **** and his two buddies were following me saying their usual bad stuff. Now **** out weighed by 100 pounds at least but enough was enough. I set my books down off the sidewalk. Noting I was right next to the morgue and thinking “one of us could end up in there”. Turning around... I motioned with open hand and quietly said to ****... “ok ****... let’s get this over with”. His eyes went rather big and he backed up. The three of them vanished back down the street. **** was very nice to me after that. We never had any harsh words. Sometimes you must stand up and confront the problem.
Sometime later kids started calling me Sullivan. I let it go for a while. Then I asked someone “why are you and others calling me Sullivan”? Did not get an answer other than “your name is John L Stevens so... you are like John L Sullivan.” Did not compute. Sullivan was a well known prize fighter. I’ve often wondered if the **** thing had anything to do with it.
Coming out of the sticks into the big city school was interesting the first few weeks. The city boys would come up and would put a hand out for a shake. Not chocolate. They would try to squeeze my hand hard but it didn’t bother me. The third week I decided that I would squeeze back. Now maybe they didn’t know that I milked cows by hand. So the next one got squeezed... hard. It hurt some me thinks. Word apparently traveled fast as that was the last fun hand shake I had. I’m old now but I have never been hit in the face in all this time. Except with boxing gloves. No need to cause trouble but be ready to defend yourself and others. What I taught my kids and grandkids over the years.
Ok enough of that.
