A Thanksgiving Run For Me!

Years ago when I was young skinny and had a head full of red hair I was a distance runner. Those of you who did not know me back then may not know this fact. As a Salem High School student I ran on both the cross-country and indoor track teams. I ran some good times mostly as a result of good coaching (the Great Dunsky) and from competition from a great group of runners. We were a powerhouse in the distance events and especially in cross-country. I had the pleasure of training with a who's who of SHS and north shore distance runners; John Hogan, Joe Cooney, Brian Lockard (DIV III all-american at UMass), Matt Thompson, Tommy Hogan, Vince Swiniuch and more than a few others. Dunsky and these guys are the only reason I graduated.

I didn't do much running after high school except for the daily PT run until I was posted to Fort Carson in Colorado. Shortly after arriving there I made the mistake of betting a younger medic that would beat him in the 2-mile run part of the PT test. We were drinking that night so a lot of side bets were also made. Well, to keep it short I was in a lot better running shape than I thought and the kid and I finished in a stride for stride tie in 9:49. Those daily PT runs were better for me than I thought. The Sergeant-Major of the battalion was there and before I knew it I was running in competition for the battalion and the 4th Division. I didn't want to but a Sergeant-Major generally gets what he wants.

I ran on a fairly regular basis through the 90's. When I lived in Hampstead NH I even had a summer where I did 30-40 miles a week. My knees began to bother me in my early 40's and I have done no serious running since. Five or six years ago I did run the annual March cross-country 5K at the Salem Green's. With a 3/4 effort I finished in 30 minutes. My knees yelled at me for the next week.

Due to a change in footwear and a stretching routine my knees feel better than they have in years. I have begun to run a slow mile on the treadmill as exploration. No ill effects beyond the normal soreness and stiffness have manifested. I will slowly increase the distance and will loop the inside of the Salem Common once or twice next week.

The reason for all of this? Simple. Come Hell, high water or armageddon itself I am running the Wild Turkey Run on Thanksgiving morning. I've already signed up.

"Damn the torpedo's full speed ahead!"

Searing Anger

I just knocked this out after a day wandering the streets of Salem with my my usual determined purpose. My intent each day is not evil. I do what has to be done and that is all.

SEARING ANGER (or wasted energy if you prefer)

On Andrews there lives a woman

whose anger most certainly breathes.

The flames of annoyance do fuel her

and cause her emotions to seethe.

From a window she spy's something orange

that bring from her embers a spark.

She bolts to confront the transgressor

to bare yellowed fangs and to bark.

The Bald One listens in wonder

from where this vile anger was borne.

It lives in breathtaking splendor

while inviting observers to scorn.

He walks quickly in befuddled amusement

As she sputters and continues to scorch.

Her heat builds fast to enkindle

the anger she wields as a torch.

Where We've Been and Where We Are

The Salem News today stimulates my memory and causes me once again to consider where I am and where I've been over the years.

Similar to an earlier post about a very good friend who has fallen on hard times due to his own foolishness, I muse on another guy I knew when I was young.

In 1973 the public grammar school I attended closed as I completed the 7th grade. I had attended the Hawthorne School since 5th grade. It was located in the old St.Mary's School building where I had endured kindergarten through fourth grade. St. Mary's was the first parochial school in Salem closed by the archdiocese of Boston. The city rented the building as a public school for the next three years. 1974 brought me to the 8th grade in the Phillips School which was just around the corner.

A few of my friends from the Hawthorne came with me to the Phillips. It was a bit of an adjustment for all of us. We were the interlopers and the put upon at the same time. The kids at Phillips were a bit nervous about us (Hawthorne had a rough reputation) and we were unsure what to expect at Phillips.

This guy was one of the first kids I encountered. He heard how I pronounced my name, LA-GO, as opposed to LA-GALT and used the "Leggo of my Eggo" commercial to bust my balls. He would run up to me in the hallway between classes, shout it out to me and then run. I would chase him for a bit and then go to class. This went on for the entire year. He got some sort of rush from the whole thing while I kind of got tired of it. As the year went on I would chase him less and less until I didn't chase him at all. The fact is I had no interest in catching him.

High school came and he and I encountered each other very little. We ran in different circles. The one thing I noticed is he always had very good looking girl friends. He seemed personable and popular.

Fourteen years ago I returned to Salem. Eventually I asked about him. Family members, his brother in particular would change the subject quickly. I later learned he had been arrested twice in child rape charges and in between those incidents jailed twenty years for the rape of a Salem State College (now University) student. He was released a few years ago and according to police records was "homeless" in Cambridge.

It turns out he was not in Cambridge at all. He has been living at his sisters house here in Salem and working as a roofer. Today he is on the front page of the Salem News after being arrested again for rape.

I look at his picture. Hard eyes, tight tense lips, slicked back hair and try to reconcile this appearance with the smiling, personable blond kid who playfully provoked me to a chase 35 years ago. It doesn't fit. It doesn't make sense.

Look at where you are today. Look around at the people you have known for years and where they are. Realize and appreciate that whether it be by design or by circumstance we are what we have become.