At East Union (the Eagles) I had multiple teachers. I don’t necessarily remember any one of them. There was the health/PE teacher, Mr. Lawson, an old black man. The math teacher, Mr. Crissman, a young cutting edge kind of guy, though I did not have him. There were a few others. I was a mischievous student that walked on the edge of things. By the time I got to middle school I had written off school. By this time it was a self-fulfilling prophecy that I could not succeed in school. I had the grades to make Honor Society, but the teachers would not let me be part of the Society because in their mind I was too mean or too rowdy. This was probably the issue that pushed me to made a decision to do just enough to get by. I really wanted to be part of the Honor Society. I think if I could have gotten in, my life would have been more dedicated.
I didn’t realize until the 10th grade that many of my teachers had pre-conceived ideas about me and the other brothers. Robby and Joey were so mean that by the time I got to a particular grade the teachers figured I was just like them. I was not like them in all honesty. And I didn’t want to be like them. I wanted make it. I wanted to succeed at something. I never found my niche so I defaulted into what kids like me do, which was being mischievousness. This was totally my fault, but it was a big blow not to be allowed into Honor Society.
Teri Absher and I dated for a period of time during the seventh grade. I also dated Kelley Hill. She had a very large head, but was somewhat attractive. These two girls went to Marshville and didn’t know me so they were willing to check me out so to speak. When Kelley and I were dating I went with Mike Yow and Teri and Kelley to a basketball game at Forest Hills, the local high school. We would walk around the school and find various places to kiss. We went from corner to corner of the school, from hallway to hallway to several outside stops as well. That was fun. This was also the season where lust/porn was introduced to me. My dad kept porn magazines under his mattress. I would sneak into his bedroom, get the magazines and masturbate and then sneak them back to the same spot under his bed.
I also started delivering newspapers with my dad during this time. He would wake us up at 2 or 3 in the morning and make us go with him to deliver the Charlotte Observer. We would go to the pick-up spot, get a carload of papers and deliver them all morning long. We brothers did this on a rotating basis. It was a horrible experience. I would finish the route with my dad and he would drop me off just before class. My hands would be black from the ink. The ink made my skin peel off. I liked my East Union experience. There were more people and I could blend in more and there was less spotlight and/or social pressure on me.