I came across this picture and it bought back memories. The house a couple years ago was burned down
in a fire department training exercise.
It was on Glover Street at the corner of Manget Street.
I lived on Manget Street with my family from about age 7 to
age 14, with my grandfather. But Glover
Street wad my hangout. All my friends
lived on Glover Street. Then Glover
Street was dotted with old houses and a country store. Now, only one residence house is there, the
rest is warehouses, Cobb County Board of Education, and at least two auto shops
Back to the early 1950s:
The Rich family lived in this house.
Their side yard became a hangout for teenagers. The teenage boys openly smoked, cursed, and
were full of wise-cracks: I was
envious.
I think most of them had quit school. They were also up to no good. Several of us younger kids, about 10 or 11
years old hung out on the edge of their bunch trying to pickup on their lingo;
we were street corner hangout trainees.
Another kid, about a year old, also named Eddie came often
to Glove Street to visit his grandparents and stay a few days each time. He lived in Douglasville. Eddie was mentally challenged.
The teenagers, picking up on Eddie was not all there, thought
they would have a little fun told Eddie I said some bad things about him. Eddie and I were like dogs in a dog fight to
them, nothing more.
Eddie came at me swinging.
With one hand. Eddie had a
nervous problem, when he got nervous he was put his mouth on the back of his
hand and slobber on it. With one arm he
was swinging with the other hand in his mouth, he was not protecting his
face. I hit him one hit in the face. Blood ran from his nose. He ran down the street to his
grandparents. Ian home too.
The teenagers told me his big sister came walked back up
very angry wanting to know who broke her brother’s nose. They told me they covered for me. She wanted to call the police on whoever did
it.
I thought I got away with it. Months later I saw Eddie and he was
friendly. Apparently he had forgot about
it.
Then we went behind his grandparent’s house into their
barn. We climbed up in the loft. I did not know it at the moment the plywood
floor was not nailed down, The wide
boards just laid unnailed across the rafters.
Then one of my “friends” reminded Eddie I was the one who
blooded his nose. Suddenly Eddie pounced
on top of me and started choking me. I
could not breath. I thought I was going
to be killed right then.
Then, my Guardian Angel must have stepped up to give me a
helping hand.
With us scuffling around on the plywood that was not nailed
down, one end shifted away from the top of the rafter it rested on, then tilted
down towards the barn’s dirt floor and
dumped us like a dump truck.
I hit the floor running.
And ran home.
About a year after that Tony Hester’s mother took Tony, Gene
Sanges, and me to Douglasville to visit Eddie.
Mrs. Hester must have been friends with Eddie’s family. I think Eddie’s parents were dead and he
lived with his uncle and aunt on a chicken farm. Eddie showed us all about egg cleaning and
the machines that sorted the eggs. Eddie
was learning a trade, good for him.
We also Walked over the farm through the cattle lazily
hanging out. There was a big water hole
for the cattle. I thought “What if Tony
or Gene remind Eddie about the broken nose again?” I didn’t get close to the water and made sure
I had a clear running area in front of me.
The day ended peacefully.
About ten years ago I ran into a Glover Street friend back
then and we played “what ever happed to…?”
I asked about Eddie. My friend
told me he heard Eddie was in prison with a lifetime sentence for murder. I could have been Exhibit A. Gulp!
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