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tweedydaddy -> RE: Good Samaritans (11/10/2008 5:33:16 PM)
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I was a very rough teenager at about fifteen when my Dad took drunk and disappeared, not a very long spree, he turned up again when I was ninteen.
We lived in a hard neighbourhood and I was not very big, the boys in our area were like pitbulls and I was hammered on a regular basis, just about every time I went out I came back with a new bruise.
We lived in a masionette, a sort of flat with an upstairs and there were five on each side of the landing. On our side the men of each flat, all with very busy lives of thier own took it on themselves to look after me. One was a huge bear of a man who worked in a scrapyard and moonlighted as a wrestler, he was a big softy and rode a big motorcycle, he brought me all kinds of things from the yard, from army surplus stuff to a juke box, he taught me to ride a motorcycle and the basics of fighting without getting hurt. His wife was a pretty little doll who taught me to dance and how to dress well. Another of them was a real hard case who worked in a slaughter house and as he passed on his way home, he would drop off meat he had pinched from work for me, he also taught me to fight as well as how to behave around lads without becoming a victim. The main man was a rock fanatic who introduced me to live gigs and took me swimming and paid for me to go to the gym.
They taught me how to survive as a young man and even clubbed together to buy me an old motorcycle for christmas. For two years of my life, these three men saw to it that I had the best jeans, boots (it was the seventies) jackets and records that I could ask for, they taught me to drink, party, look after myself, and not to make any of the mistakes that were waiting for me. I also got a few bloody good hidings which were well deserved and any dad would have given me.
Those men, Colin the wrestler, passed now, God bless him, Stan the scrap man, the coolest person I ever met, also passed, God bless him, and big Dave the slaughterman, who when his time comes, Death will have a grudge match on his hands, my money will be on Dave.
I lost one Dad to drink, and found three men ready to open their hearts and their homes to a very scared little boy of fifteen. They gave me the comfort and the security and the sense of belonging that I needed, all with dignity and kindness.
I never once recall thanking any of them, but I am so grateful.
Without them I would have been nothing.
So, three good samaritans who went far out of their way for me.
Thank you. I never said it. I may as well say it now.
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