Sunday, August 28, 2011

Sunday Post Mania #2: A Sad Memory

Sometimes memories come flooding back from the strangest things. We were eating lunch this afternoon when my son remarked that a certain salad dressing was his favorite. I mentioned that I knew a guy that used to scoop huge gobs of sour cream on his salad. Actually, the guy was the father of a friend of mine. Then the flood started ...

Jerry moved into the area when fifth grade started. He was a pretty bright guy and had some of the same interests as me. We quickly became friends, and soon were working on a geography project together. I always had wanted to work with Jerry because his dad was a civil engineer and always "helped" his son with school projects. Shit -- they all looked professionally done. Now I would find out how much Jerry actually did himself. Well, maybe because outside people (me) were involved, Jerry's father did not help with (or do) the project. It looked like crap. I guess we all then knew who really did the work on Jerry's projects.

Anyway, I became close friends with Jerry and went to his house quite often. On the many times when Jerry would disappoint his dad, the dad would haul off and hit Jerry in the back. Hard. Hard enough to make him cry. It sure seemed wrong, but in those days it seemed like there were lots of crazy parents who would discipline their kids in unique ways. Today we would call it child abuse.

I am sure that the family violence had an effect on Jerry. By the time he finished high school he was the biggest sociopath I knew.

I had not thought about this family for several years, but was able to readily find information on them online. Jerry is now an attorney, so if his sociopathic  ways continued he is now in a profession where they would serve him well. His father, now deceased, had a national reputation due to his hobby/side business. It is interesting to read all the great things said about him due to his expertise in his field. Unfortunately for me, I can only remember him as this big guy who beat on his small, skinny, fragile son.

1 Comments:

Blogger crafty said...

I can't believe the cowardly little shitheel actually hit him in front of you. Usually that sort of stuff is done in private - as befits an act of shame.

8:41 AM  

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