03/16/2011 archive

Mar 16 2011

My Little Town 20110315: Elwood Brockman

Those of you that read this irregular series know that I am from Hackett, Arkansas, just a mile of so from the Oklahoma border, and just about 10 miles south of the Arkansas River.  It was a redneck sort of place, and just zoom onto my previous posts to understand a bit about it.

I never write about living people except with their express permission, so this installment is about a long dead denizen of Hackett.  This time it is about a teacher of mine, Elwood Brockman.

Mr. Brockman taught high school maths, and was also the grade school principal.  Since the entire school system from grades 1 to 12 (no K at the time), double duty was the norm.

Mar 16 2011

My Man, My Son, My Life

Someone pointed him out to me across the bar on a 4th of July afternoon bender after a day at the Lake and a night prior of coking and joking, “That guy over there is Michael, he could give you guitar lessons.” I was 21. It was 1984.

I took one look, and as God as my witness gasped and said, “Oh my God, that man is going to be my best friend or worst enemy.” He had presence, in a way most people cannot even fathom unless you met him. Intensity, intelligence, awareness, all with a touch of dangerousness that kept many at a distance.

I had someone introduce us. He took me home that night, and played a bit of guitar for me. We talked like I’d never been able to talk to anyone in my entire life until sleep took us. He was a gentleman, and I was a Catholic girl. The second night? I molested him, unable to refrain from his lure. He didn’t object a bit. I have been with him ever since.

Load more