Chapter 1.1

Chapter 1.1

JMH Meets

It all began back in August of 1988. I was beginning my freshman year at the great metropolis of Woodlawn…population of 100 people if you counted all pets, farm animals, rodents, and insects along with the people during the census period. I had gone to Woodlawn Grade School since fifth grade and lived with both parents and two sisters, one two years younger and one a twin sister. We lived in the country just between Woodlawn and Centralia close to the city of Richview.

I was extremely nervous about starting high school. Though a great deal of the same people were accompanying me from the grade school to the high school, a good number of my friends were not attending Woodlawn High School’s district and were going to Mt. Vernon High School instead. This meant starting over somewhat in developing those close to me.

I have never really been a person who made friends easily. Even to this day I have had numerous acquaintances whom I have been friendly with who would say in their opinion that we were friends. But the term friend to me is a sacred word. Before meeting Matt I had only two people that I had considered to be a true individual to label as a friend. One of these individuals I had left in the small town of Oakland, Illinois when my family and I had moved to Woodlawn at the end of my fourth grade year. The other individual was leaving me after the eighth grade, his father was a doctor and wanted him to attend a private school for his high school years. Thus my feelings of nervousness grew. I had no one to rely on, no strength and foundation to look to. Just numerous simple “acquaintances” to aide me as I tackled the new realm of high school.

I remember meeting Matt for the first time quite vividly. But before I go into the story behind that, I must first paint the scene of the high school. Growing up, I have always been use to small community school systems. Well, Woodlawn was just that. Housing only 125 students TOTAL and only containing two separate hallways, it was pretty much impossible to get around the campus without running into someone several times a day. Now this is okay when one is dealing with his friends or acquaintances, but it is not something one finds as a positive experience as a freshman in the new pond waters of a school system. As a freshman, one is generally trying to fit and blend in with their natural surroundings, a walking camouflage individual if you will. But the way Woodlawn High School was set up, this was an impossibility.

Dealing with such a set up, the thirty of us making up the freshman class of 1988 soon found out that the best offense against the stalking of upper classman was a good and simple defense. We basically hung together in the school’s gym. Passing from class to class was fine. The halls were completely crowded and the teachers and administration were observing what was transpiring within their beloved two hallways. It was before school, after school, and lunch time that were the worst times. During these time periods, teachers and administration both became as obsolete as a dollar during Christmas time. It was during these times that we all decided that our best chance for survival was to hang in the gym together, as one massive group.

At first I thought this was a terrible strategy, as it simply made us out to be an easier form of a target for our attackers. And at first it seemed like it would be this way. Countless upper classmen would circle around us like a flock of buzzards, heckling and throwing any projectile they could get their hands on. Though threatening at first, we soon found out that these upper classmen were the ones on the lower end of the food chain. Terrifying at first, but as soon as the group let them know they were not really scary, they left and waited for other options of torture. I mean think about it. Thirty students against two seniors who could have passed for members of the Smurf clan. Even though upper classmen can be terrifying, these two did not rank in this atmosphere.

However, though positive at the moment, these experiences soon gave freshmen, including myself, a false sense of hope and security. I actually began to believe that the upper classmen were beginning to accept me as an individual. All eighty pounds, five feet, four eye faced me. I soon found this not to be true.