WHEN HEROES ARE NOT BORN

When I worked at the bank, my coworkers were mostly young married women with preteen or teenage children. Most of the marriages had survived the seven year itch and were bogged down into daily sameness. There were some restless mamas there looking for a little change of pace. So we joined bank supported sports teams as a way to have a GNO (girls night out). We bowled, played volley ball and softball in bank sponsored leagues. At least 6 banks in the area also sponsored teams in these events so there was usually a even competition.

We were well into the volleyball season when this occurred. We were practicing in a school gymnasium located in a rather rough section of town. I really don't know if the league rented the gym or if it were donated. We were just grateful for a place to play. The husbands came for the games but left us on our own for practice.

The moon was not in the right phase for me to play (bad cramps) so I was resting my ovaries in the bleachers (too much information guys?) I was sitting with Beverly and her two grade school age children.

Practice was going well when the doors burst open and a group of high school girls entered noisily. I didn't count but it looked to be almost 20 of them. Did you ever notice how each upcoming generation seems taller than we were? We were older but they were bigger. The ball bounced close to them and the leader grabbed it and held it close to her. She wasn't about to give it up.

One of our girls, smiled and held her arms out to retrieve the ball which the leader flipped to another gang member. "This is our building . Get out." she snarled.

Still smiling, my friend walked up to the girl and politely said that we were in the middle of a game and if they would just wait till we were through, they were welcome to the floor then or we would be happy to play them in a game. I am convinced that if my friend had offered them a million bucks right then, the results would have been the same. They had not come for reason, just violence.

It all happened so quickly. Suddenly my sweet natured, rational friend was on the floor being kicked and the rest of the team were fending off blows. It was chaos. Beverly drew her kids close to her burying their faces in her chest.

Do you ever wonder how good you would be in a violent situation? Now normally this is a no-brainer job for the guys but sometimes they are not handy. I always thought I would be brave in an attack. Surely I would defend myself and the weak. I would staunch the wounds of the hurt, and I would leap into a rescue situation. The only problem with our grand ideas of our behavior in an emergency, is that until it is tested, we really-don't-know.

I found I had an overblown opinion of what my reaction to violence would be. Maybe I could staunch wounds when all is over, confident I could give you CPR if needed, but don't look for me when someone starts kicking you in the head. I just sat there in the bleachers, totally frozen. All my previous illusions of how I would be in crisis crumbled.

Fortunately, the fight ended abruptly without my help. A patrolman had seen the group of girls swarming the streets and had followed them to the gym. When they saw the uniform behind the shrill whistle, they scattered like cockroaches. He could only snag a slow one and she was working over his shins. They had just been looking for trouble that night and found it with us.

My friend who had tried to be the rational and gracious, suffered bruised ribs, purple legs, and had a nifty black eye. Almost all the rest of the team had bumps and bruises. I had a definitely reassessed opinion of myself and nary a scratch.

No, I don't feel guilty, definitely disappointed, but not guilty. I would love to be different but I am not. I am a pacifist and have accepted that. I would like to think that if the attack had carried on longer, that I would have come unglued from my seat and helped but there is little guarantee.

From then on, I told anyone interested that if they were ever subjected to violence, they could count on me NOT to help but I would be glad to GET help. We work with what we have. I'm content that we all can't be heroes. Someone has to leave the fort to summon the cavalry. That will be Patti.

Is there a hero in you?



We did go undefeated that year, if you don't count that practice session.. This picture was a hoot. Gloria on the right was suffering from the giggles and this was shot # seven by the news photographer. I am looking at her waiting for number seven crack up. She later said he did an Elvis lip curl each time he said "Smile" which cracked her up.


That is me in the middle looking like I am wearing the trophy for an ear bob. Can anyone say "Big Hair".