While I'm blogging about my early school years at Bell Elementary, I must tell about the new kid that moved to Bell. He was a really big red-headed kid with freckles, a crew cut and a really nasty disposition. All I remember was his name was Chester.
It was during my third grade year. Third and fourth graders were combined on the playground for recess class. Late into the school year, this new kid transferred in to the fourth grade. He wasn't the biggest kid on campus, but from the first time I saw him I noticed something different about Chester.
I can't put my finger on it, but Chester was that kid that seemed to scatter the other kids. If Chester decided to climb on the monkey bars, all the other kids just naturally moved on and found something else to do. Probably because he put out a natural warning system, much like a hungry lion or bear. He seemed to have a wide-eyed look to him... almost kind of scary. He was very unpredictable, but when he acted someone usually got hurt. Back at that time one of my best friends was a fourth grader named Mark Vise. Mark asked me a question one day about Chester... "Have you run into that new Chester kid? Well... watch-out... he's meaner than Hell. The teachers are even afraid of him."
One day I was playing kick ball over by the southwesterly back stop on the playground. Everything was going good, I hadn't even noticed that Chester was on my team. As our team went to take our turns kicking I somehow ended up in line right behind big ole Chester. While we were standing there, Chester wandered off like he decided not to play kick ball. I immediately moved up in his place in line. Too bad, Chester. Everybody knew if you got out of line you had to go to the end of the line. Everybody knew that, except Chester.
Several minutes later Chester came back. He immediately noticed I have closed the gap and absorbed his place in line. Before I knew what was going on he growled... "Where do you think you're going, Fats?" He grabbed me by left wrist and left ankle and began to airplane spin me around in a circle... really fast. Now... I quickly began to realize this situation could only have a bad ending. Every time I went around, I was getting dangerously close to the pipe support of the back stop. Also... the street was only six or eight feet behind us. After I picked up some pretty good speed on the sixth or seventh rotation, Chester let me go. And I flew... probably seven or eight feet away, landing in a new pile of sand that was to be spread out onto the field.
As I got up and dusted myself off I realized... "Hey... I'm alive!" As I walked back over to get in the kick ball line, I decided to go to the back of the line where hopefully I would be safe. Funny thing is... all the other kids who were in line in front of Chester decided to do the same. Chester kicked the ball and ran around the bases. The kids out in field seemed to know it would not be wise to attempt to get Chester out, so they just let him circle the bases. Kind of an honorary home run, if you will. Actually kind of a protect one's life homerun. Chester seemed unchallenged and walked away. He probably saw a car to steal or someone else to terrorize. We all breathed a sigh of relief and continued playing.
After several weeks I noticed that Chester was no longer at recess and no longer at Bell Elementary. I figured someone had probably noticed his photograph down at the post office and maybe the National Guard had been called to take him in. Some of us speculated maybe he had been moved to a reform school or the Huntsville State Pen.
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