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This story is probably one of the most difficult stories I have attempted so far, not because of the content but it is three different stories. I can string a line of words together to make what I think is a good sentence but the more I type, the more difficult it becomes to tell the stories from my younger days. I have the stories to tell but the timing is not right or some other event occurs to prevent me from accomplishing my task. I am going to tell the three stories in one chapter. There are really more fight stories I could write but these are the best of what I remember. The first story happened while I was in High School so that is probably the best place to begin. The first “Fight” story begins in the hallway of Trenton High School, Trenton, Texas in the early 60s with two girls who for some reason did not get along with each other. I do not think anyone can remember what started the fight. It began early in the week with a few angry words exchanged between the two girls involved. Both girls had their own group of supporters. The reason for the fight remains unclear to me. You will find out for yourselves later on in the story, it does not matter to you either. I have changed the names to protect the parties involved in this fight. I will name the first girl Brandy and the second girl I will call Jill. Jill was the new girl in Trenton and I think this was her first year at Trenton High School. Her aunt worked at the local Café and she made the best Bar-B-Que sandwiches you ever tasted. I can get close to her original recipe but it is not exactly the same as what Aunt B. made once a week at the City Café. That does not have anything to do each with the fight but I can still remember the Bar-B-Que plates and sandwiches even now. Anyway, back to the fight. Every time the girls met each other in the hallway or at their lockers, they would always stare each other down and mention Friday night at the roadside park. For the most part of the week, it was a war of words. For some reason the fight was changed to Saturday night. Now don’t ask me why the girls put off something as important as a fight until Saturday night, may be because it would draw a larger crowd. Boys would just find a spot and a time then the fight would be over and in a few hours, everything about the fight would be forgotten. That just would not work with these girls. With girls, you have to spend the better part of the week leading up to the main event. The Main Event was set for Saturday night at 11:00 P.M. The time was set at 11 because it would give everybody enough time to go out on their regular dates and be back in town for the big girl fight. I know
it sounds a bit juvenile on our part but we had never seen girls fight before except on Saturday night wrestling everyone knew was phony! We had a real honest girl fight between two girls who hated each other. We boys were not about to let them cool down before Saturday night either. Every time we could bring it up, we would bring up something to remind them of the fight. We chose sides and we all had our favorite. There was probably a few dollars wagered on the outcome of the fight. That week had to have been one of the longest weeks in Trenton history. We planned our dates around this fight and there were about fifty people gathered at the roadside park waiting for the fight to start. I got there with plenty of time to spare and Susan wanted to help Jill get ready for the fight. Brandy was about a year older than Jill but Jill wasn’t bothered by that fact. Physically, they were an equal match. Jill was there on time but Brandy was late. We assured Jill that was a good sign. We had campaigned for Jill all week when she was around then we made fun of everyone who took Jill’s side. I really didn’t care who won the fight, I just wanted to see them fight. It was a few minutes past 11 when Brandy and her date drove into the park; she had probably gone home and changed into her “fighting” jeans and was now ready. Some of the guys went over the rules for the fight, which were easy to remember, “There were no rules.” Just let them fight until one of them gave up and admitted defeat. It could not have been any easier for them. As they took their positions on the grass under the lights from the full moon and the street lamps, we took our places on the fenders of our cars ready for some action. The fight began just as we expected, they first had to do what girls do before they get ready for their first “Main Event” of the evening, and they had to talk! They had all week to talk and everything should have been said before Saturday night. That is when we got what we should have been prepared for all week. Brandy talked to Jill and then Jill talked to Brandy they walked around in a circle and kept on talking to each other. Then the talking stopped and the waterworks began to flow. They were hugging each other and crying all over themselves. We should have known better than to expect two girls from Trenton to fight each other. It was just a wasted week and expecting something, we had never seen before. I wonder if we could get them back together today, I am sure we could find some reason for them to fight. With a little help from Rick Glasscock and Gary Holt, I am certain we could get one of them mad! The only problem with this plan is that the girls are not girls anymore and there is a greater than zero chance they would turn on us before they fought each other.
The next event in this story includes Brandy’s younger sister, Dorothy. Dorothy is not her real name but the story is a true story. It was on a Saturday night when my “Brother” John and I were just hanging at the Café in the city of Trenton waiting until we were ready to make our run across the border into Oklahoma for some cold refreshments. We were just hanging around the Café and John was flirting with Dorothy. He was several years older than Dorothy was but that did not seem to matter to him. He was making plans to pick her up at ten when the Café closed and she would join us on our trek into Oklahoma. I told John we were wasting our time. I told him when the Café closed; Dorothy would leave with Tom, her steady boyfriend for many years. John said that she promised to go with him. I tried to tell him she was just flirting back with him and that she had no plans to leave the Café with him. John can be as hardheaded as me when it comes to certain things and this is one of those times when he was being hard headed. Stubborn is more the way he was acting that night. I agreed to satisfy my “Brother” and wait until ten o’clock when Dorothy got off from work. Just as I had predicted, Dorothy did not even look John’s direction when she finished her shift. She walked right by us and got into her boyfriend’s car as we got into mine and followed them out of town. John said for me to follow them. We were headed North on Pearl Street until we got to the intersection of Pearl Street and Hwy. 121 It was here John told me to pull up beside Tom’s car. I had told John several times that she was just leading him along and not to think about her leaving there with us. Nothing I said made any difference to John, as I said before, when he wants to he can be as stubborn as me. Well, he picked a good night to demonstrate his manhood. He rolled down his window and began to say something to Tom. I do not recall exactly what he said to Tom but I do remember John telling me to stay in the car. John got out of my car and went to the front of Tom’s car. The argument began to grow and at about that time I saw Tom hit John on the right side of his face breaking his glasses. Without his glasses, John couldn’t see anything. When I saw what condition John was in, I had no choice but to help him. That is when I discovered that John had not only made a date with Dorothy but with her boyfriend and his brother and their cousin. I met the cousin when I went behind my car trying to get to John. He grabbed me from behind holding my arms while Tom’s brother began hitting me in the face. I remember John told me later that when his glasses got broken he couldn't see and he was wondering where I was. He could barely make out the two I was fighting and decided I had my hands full enough. I managed to push Tom's brother back with my feet and then I got free from the cousin's grip on my
arms. It only took one punch to his chin and he headed back into the car with the girls. I then turned my attention to Tom's brother. By this time, I think John and Tom had reached the end of their fight and I think they pulled me off Tom's brother. The fight was over in just a few minutes and John needed medical attention. We headed to my house and some of my "Mother's Comfort." We made it through that minor skirmish with a few scrapes and bruises and one pair of broken glasses. My Mother cleaned John’s cuts and applied the bandages to his cuts around his eyes. When we left my house that night we stopped by John’s house to pick up a spare pair of glasses he had packed away. The last of this story is about another little adventure John and I got ourselves into during one of our “Quite” times. We were not looking for trouble of any kind. In order to save our gas we were just walking from John’s house on North Pearl Street in Trenton to my house on West Saunders Street. We were in front of Pappy John Wall’s old store when we first hears the car The car was an older model Ford about a 53 or 54 dark green. It would not have been a big deal except for one or two little items. The first was the obscene finger gestures and the name-calling they were shouting out from their windows. I will admit it now but I was a little scared that night, although I did not let John know how I felt. As the Ford passed us for the second time, I found an old mop, which was about two feet long, and the mop end had all of the string missing except for a very tight ball on the end. I picked up the mop by the broken handle and held it down by my right knee. We stood there in front of D.T. Phillip’s Shoe Repair Shop watching and waiting for them to turn around and make another pass by us with more profanity from them yelled in our direction. The car was headed North on Pearl Street when again they pointed their fingers at us and began calling us names. I did not think about what I was doing next. All of a sudden, I pulled the mop back as far as I could and then I let it fly right towards the driver’s side of the slowly moving Ford. It hit with such force it sounded like a shotgun blast. The mop flew back and hit the top of the buildings we were standing in front of at the time. I took a few steps to my right and picked up the mop handle. This time I didn’t hide it, I held it in front of me while they made a uturn on the square and headed back in our direction. “Do you think we should run?” asked my best friend and “Brother” John Washburn. “Run? I asked John. “Hell, there are only six of them!” I said. John stood beside me and we waited for the Ford to pass us for the third time. As the car passed there was not a word spoken to us. We watched as the Ford made a left turn leading them out of town. I slowly looked at John and said “John, (Pause) now we
run!” That is what we did too, down the tracks and across to my house for some Chili, milk, crackers and sweet pickles. The last story is my version of that event. John said he has his version as to why we didn’t run that night. I have presented my side of the story and now it is up to John to produce his version. You know I will have the option of printing it or not. I am just kidding about that, I will print anything John writes as long as I approve of what he says.