LE died. I didn’t Know him any more. He was part of my pre and teen years.
He lived with a friend of mine when she was still in high school .
He would beat her.
Severely.
I didn’t learn this till years later.
When young he would often be working on houses in town and call out to me “Hey Hippy Girl” tease me for my skin being so pale.
He was I suspect French Canadian heritage with a strong does of Micmac
The family owned a number of properties on the main water street, as well as the roughest dive bar in town.
My first night out at 21 was in that bar.
I haven’t laid eyes on him in years. He had 4 brothers all equally hard, hard working and semi dangerous. — Though they had something of a gentleman’s code.
Years ago when reconnecting with my old friend that dated him — she made fun of the fact that he had been living under an overpass in a thicket.
I said I felt sorry for him. She raised her voice to me — ”you feel sorry for him?!?!”
I tried to explain to her that I loathed the way he treated her, but yes felt sorry for the man I once knew as a boy.
In my naivety I tried to explain to her that she was always and forever stronger…
