So lets talk about Bronx Aries.

Bronx 1938

My father grew up in the 1920’s and 30’s in the Bronx. Tough as nails spontaneous guy, never let anyone get the better of him. Like Dr. Michael Savage I have to admit, these guys really are tough. They’re sharp to. They know when they are being had and my father before his untimely death two years back, so what was happening to the country. He told me a story about long ago when he was in school about standing up for what’s right and I wanted to pass that on to all of you. Yeah, people have different situations for dealing with bullies and problems and each situation has a set of several requirements or a judgment call on how best to handle what one is faced with.

Now let’s go to 1938 in the Bronx New York. My dad’s parents bought him a brand new leather bomber jacket. These were all the rage back then and it was also to keep him warm during the snowy months.

Bomber Jacket

Now forget all those SCHMUCKS out there who are preaching Global Warming. Winter is winter and New York during the winter typically gets below freezing and gets snow. That’s what usually occurs during winter Al Gore you asshole or is it that your stupid companies come first at 30 million bucks?

So my dad gets into his class and at that time the area quite a tough area was mixed race. A black kid approached my father and took his bomber jacket from the kid and being a tough guy he took it back! The black kid hit him and he beat the ever-loving crap out of him, took his jacket back and that kid left him alone. See folks, it was a jungle and you had to learn to be tough and survive. Of course today, Eric Holder would personally prosecute you for defending yourself if you are not black and hit a black person to keep them from beating you up and stealing from you.

So the school day dragged on and it was time to go home. My dad had an after school study class and when that let out, he was walked by the vice principal a woman, to the front entry door. There was no other way in or out. At day’s end, schools in the Bronx went on lock down and for good reason.

As they got to the front entrance, she froze, the V.P. put her hand over her mouth and said “oh my.” My dad gazed out the open front door and she offered, “should I call the police?” to my father.

He took pause, took his jacket off and handed her his books. He told her the following. “You hold my jacket and books and I’ll go deal with this. If I don’t they will always be waiting for me.” He stepped out the door into the front yard and parking lot, descended the steps and walked right into the middle of more than 50 black kids many from High School as well. He was in what would now be a sort of Junior High class. They all surrounded him and in the middle of all the black youths were the kid my father beat down and the kids older brother.

The older brother stepped up to my father while his younger brother held a swollen lip, accented by black and blue marks. “I heard you hit my little brother,” the older black kid said.

My dad looked around at all of them and then stomped on the older kid’s foot and through a punch right under his chin knocking the older black kid backwards and onto the ground. My dad swung, kicked, spit, grabbed hair, gouged eyeballs and bit anyone he got his teeth into from every direction. He told me “I knew I was going down, but I went at everyone and hurt quite a few of them before they dog piled me.”

Over an hour later his brothers came to get him home and then from there to the hospital, bruised and bleeding but no broken bones. So what happened?

Well, several weeks passed and he got back to school. The V.P. gave him his books back and his jacket too which he put on. He went to class. The black kid was there and avoided being anywhere near my father. Every black in that school and then high school later on gave my dad a wide berth, avoiding him. Word had spread, you don’t mess with this dude. From there on in, he walked the several blocks to school and was never harassed again by anyone. Why? Because he stood up to evil. Yeah it was a fight, yeah it hurt, but in the end, he was rewarded with his belongings, peace, self respect and dignity. And so goes one of his stories growing up. I won’t tell you about a bald headed guy the brothers peed on from the roof top. They got spanked for that one :p

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Sebassh Stuff

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s