Last evening’s walk took me past St. Francis Elementary School
where I attended grades 4 through 7 over 45 years ago. It is a stone’s throw
from where I now live, across the street from Sutter’s Fort where Sacramento
began almost 170 years ago.
Walking past the playground brought back pleasant memories of
playing kick ball, dodge ball and tag, all of which required running skills. It
also brought back memories of the Batman and Robin and Green Hornet television
series.
We were all fascinated with the Green Hornet’s sidekick Kato and
his mysterious kung fu martial arts skills. We all wanted to be like Kato,
capable of performing lethal flying jump kicks and circular chops and punches.
He represented what every kid wanted, the ability to defend himself from the
perils of youthful life – self defense at its finest against the most
formidable opponents.
Some kids had trained in judo or karate, others knew how to box or
wrestle, and yet others were just athletic and big, capable of taking care of
themselves. And then there was Glen.
Glen was a scrawny kid everyone liked to pick on. And for some
strange reason Glen would do things to get other kids mad and they would push
him around. But kids didn’t get very far with Glen as he was the ultimate
master of self-defense.
What was this ultimate self-defense system of Glen? Well he didn’t
know judo or karate, and he never learned how to box or wrestle. He certainly
wasn’t athletic and big. Yet Glen was able to defend himself against a half
dozen kids at one time. How do I know? Well I was one of those kids. As hard as
we tried, Glen was able to defend himself against all of us. We tried our best
for over one hour, yet Glen’s body and face did not bear one bruise, cut or
scratch.
And by the way, Glen was the last person anything close to Kato;
but like Kato, he was a master in the art of self-defense.
You see, Glen knew how to run. He could run fast and he could run
far. He always won games of tag. Nobody could touch him. One time he got about
six of us kids mad and we all went after him on foot. It started at the school
playground and ventured across the street to Sutter’s Fort. It seemed like the
chase lasted an eternity covering the whole 6-block perimeter of the Sutter’s
Fort Park. We tried our best, yelling expletives along with “you are going to
get it when we get you!”. But we never did.
I sometimes think of Glen; I did so last evening during my
walk past my elementary school alma mater. Whether he lives in Sacramento, what
he looks like and whether he can still run. I'm sure in some small way, he gave
me a thrill of running. One thing I’ll always remember about Glen, he was a
master of self-defense because he could run, run, run.
Pax Domini sit
semper vobiscum
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