Paul the Newspaper boy and
the Bully
I was near the intersection of Schraalenburgh
and Main Street. Main Street goes towards the downtown. This particular
location laid at the top of a hill where Schraalenburgh meets it and there was a gas station there. I was
standing there, which was about a block or two away from Hardenburg Road closer
to my home. I saw our newspaper boy, Paul and as I go to wave hello to him as
he was standing next to a much larger boy. Paul smiles and says something. I could
not make out what he’d said. So, I ask him. The two boys were freshman in high
school at the time.
The big kid, Mike was kind of a known guy.
He appeared to be a bully, but he'd never picked on me before. Paul and he were
standing at the corner of Schraalenburgh and Main Street that eventually passes
the K-8th grade school. They were on an oblique angle from me as I was
on the I was southwest of them Then Paul yells something then yelled my name and
said something insulting aimed at me. I was perplexed, not understanding why,
neither what was about to happen.
Paul along with Mike began throwing beer bottles
that were empty at me. The bottles were thrown at me across the whole intersection.
They landed near me. The two laugh at me. At first, I thought to stand my
ground and not be afraid. I realized after two bottles landed a few feet from me,
that I’d better move. As I went to move, they laughed more. Yet now I knew to
run home on Schraalenburgh This as the bottle throwing was becoming more aimed at
me. I was soon in our home safe. I told no one. I went and walked my dog,
Goober. I told him as we had walked into a local wooded area.
Days later, on a Wednesday I’d arrived home
from school. I realized that upon entering our home that Goober was in the
basement. I ask my mother, “Why is Goober in the basement?” At the time my mother
was pregnant with my sister. She replied, “Oh I had to put your dog downstairs
in the basement. You're not ‘gonna
believe what he did today.” She paused. I was baffled. She continued, “Well
Paul, the paper boy came to collect for The Record newspaper. And when I
went to open the door, your dog growled. He'd never done that before. Paul got
scared and Goober got out from behind my legs as I was attempting to pay Paul. Your
dog chased Paul into Mrs. Rosenbach’s enclosed porch.”
Mrs. Rosenbach was this old biddy who lived
next to us. She was grumpy all the time. I responded, “Oh. What happened?” Mom
continued, “Thank God her porch door was open, Goober remained outside her door
growling and barking at Paul. I had to go out and get your dog and put him on a
leash. I couldn't believe this was happening. I put Goober downstairs in the
basement; then I went out and I paid Paul.”
Minutes later after hearing mom’s take on
why Goober was now in the basement, I got my dog’s leash and took him from the
basement for a walk. As we walked down our dead-end street towards a wooded
area. I said to Goober, “Goober, you are my hero. Goober I love you with all my
heart. I told no one what happened with Paul on Saturday. Yet you knew
something that I didn't tell mom or dad.”
This story arrived at a near hilarious point
decades later in my office. Many miles away from where I’d grown up. Over 30
years later I’d found people who knew Paul, now in his forties. So, one day after session I tell this story to
a man in my office. We’d began to realize that I was perhaps speaking about the
same Paul. This man told me how he met Paul. It was for a job interview. The
man stated to me that day, “I would not hire Paul. I didn’t feel that he’d be a
good fit for the company.” I asked why.
He stated, “He was just not employable. There was something about him.
He was a negative sort. He couldn’t hold onto a job.” Then we’d realized when I
asked Paul’s last name and where he’d grown up and who he knew. I realized it
was the same Paul that had thrown beer bottles at me in March of 1976, now it
was 2012.---Jody-Lynn Reicher
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