"It happened to me" and "Lessons Learned" by High Roaders

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orangeninja

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I was reading those "It happened to me" thingys in a gun rag when I realized what kind of stories I could see on a forum like this. I don't have a cool "it happened to me" but I do have a "lessons learned" from the University of Hard Knocks otherwise known as "Life U"

I was an impressionable suburbanite 15 or 16 year old waiting on my school bus one fine afternoon when a group of "gangstas" (which in retrospect was probably a group of wannabes) walked up to this "Goth" looking dude who claimed to be a Wikken Warlock and a pacifist. Well this "Goth" pacifist guy was HUGE, we're talkin 6 ft 4 or 5 and an easy 250 lbs if he was a pound.

One kind of fat black guy in the gang banger group decided to impress his buddies by whoopin up on this huge goth kid I believe becaus he KNEW this guy wouldn't fight back. I watched this goth kid take a punch to the nose and just stand there, not defending himself at all, then the banger decided to get fancy and threw a couple of running start full on punches in the mouth while the other kid stood there and just took it. When all was said and done, the big goth kid had a broken nose and two of his teeth knocked out and NEVER ONCE LIFTED A FINGER to defend himself. Guess what, nobody defended him either. The guy never even hit the ground until the very very end which just infuriated the aggressor.

Personally, had the guy simply fought back he would have won due to the fact that he could seriously take a punch.

Lesson learned: The world is hard and not fighting back simply means you will be hurt worse. If you get attacked, attack back. Pacifism is a lofty goal and this guy stuck to his beliefs at the worst of times and it didn't do him a bit of good. I became anti-pacifist that day.
 
I have an "it happened to me" i was driving down a busy road in a not so nice part of town, when a lady??? cuts in front of me and i stupidly choose to vent at her. When we got to the next light she gets out and comes toward my truck :cuss: :cuss: at me and i'm thinking holy cr@p,when she turns around and gets back into her car and takes off. While all of this is going on i was looking for a way out of there, and wishing i had some sort of weapon to use for protection if it went south. I have decided to be more polite to other drivers and have a way out if pressed to bug out, along with a gun.
 
I've trained myself to just let things go on the road. Road rage just isn't worth it, especially if you're carrying a gun.

For the really bad mannered drivers, I get the license plate and call 911.
 
I regrettably agree that pacifism is generally a dead end road. My first lesson was when I was about 8 years old. There was a kid in my neighborhood who was from a real rough family and he was a bully....but we were friends I played with him often, but he treated me like crap and was always picking on me. I was raised to be nice and play fairly...so I didn't really know what to do about it. I asked my older brother about it and in his great wisdom he said, "kick his butt". The next weekend, we were playing wiffle ball when Dennis (his real name) was pulling his usual crap. I finally reached my limit and wacked him in the face with the bat as hard as I could. His attitude toward me changed immediately....and stayed that way. It was quite a revelation for me to see this tough kid cry like a baby. He's probably dead or in prison now, but he didn't mess with me anymore. One lesson learned - Don't start stuff -If someone else does, and won't stop, make them stop anyway you can. Lesson two- there are lot's of Dennis' out there... of all ages.
 
Lesson 1: Don't ever get into a fight if you can avoid it, however if you cannot avoid it because of threat to your life or safety, fight as hard as you can, fight dirty and fight to win 100-0.

I was in 2nd grade, when the 3rd grade bully thought it would be 'funny' to grab my (broken, in a full leg cast) leg and lead me around by it. Hoping on one foot for a few steps, asking him to stop, I had exactly one choice. Do nothing and end up with a cracked head on the 4x4" steel beams and concrete floor, or fight. My back was literally against a wall. With one almost movie-style roundhouse kick from my good leg to mr bully's head, I was released. He was knocked unconsious. He stood a full foot taller than me and probally had 30lbs on me at the time.

Nobody ever gave me any trouble again, though I am sure I would be unable to duplicate that kick-move.
 
Tenth grade.
A kid on the bus started some crap. I tried to take "The High Road" (pardon the pun) and let it go. As my bus was coming to my stop, he moved up to the seat in front of me. He slapped me and I stood up. He then placed his left hand on my chest and pulled back with his right hand.
That was his mistake.
I swept his hand out of the way and hit him just about as hard as I could with my right, knocking him out into the aisle and to the floor. He got up and I hit him again, knocking him down again and gaining a few feet. He got up again and I hit him again, then put my shoulder into him and slammed him into the windshield of the bus. He hit the little divider in the middle. This did kind of hamper my plan because I was trying to put him right out onto the hood, but it didn't really stop me. I struck at his genitals but he was wearing loose clothes, so I shifted and put a couple into his ribs. Then I fought free, stepped back just a little, and put one into the middle of his forehead. This drove his head back and into the large expensive mirror that was hanging above the bus driver, breaking it into many, many little peices. We then proceeded to struggle around and fall down in next to the door on the steps and beat the hell out of each other until the bus driver pulled us apart.
To his credit, he was pretty tough and gave just about as good as he got.
I later came to an understanding with him and we even speak to each other in a civil manner when we see each other in passing.
That cost me 3 days and about $100 of my own money to pay for my half of the mirror.
It was worth every penny.
 
Wikken Warlock and a pacifist
Click to expand...

Thats your clue right there. No self respecting male Wiccan will refer to themselves as a Warlock, since such is an Oathbreaker and not even worthy of being trodden apon to keep oneself out of the mud. The guy may have been a genuine pacifist, I've found that such outlooks are not uncommon with Wiccans. Frankly, I'd classify him as a Poser.

My lesson:

Years back when I was in Elementary school, there was an older kid who would take great delight in harrassing me when I walked to walked to school. Calling me a sissy, a "domestic cat" and a reciting the sing-song fatty-fatty 2x4 song at me. (sissy? No. "domestic cat"? No. fattie? guilty as charged then) Being loath to get into fights (Berserker tendencies are strong in my line), I would try to just ignore him, which usually worked as I had my buddies with me. One crisp autumn day, this kid happened to catch me alone on the walk to school. He started to bother me again, and threatened to pick up a large chunk of glass rock that his parents had in their garden and hit me with it. I did not argue, I did not try and reason, I did not cry as I'd tried all before and those responses did no good. I just sucker punched him in the nose, he fell down in shock, then while he was down I kicked him in the groin and a few times in head for good measure, then continued on my way to school.

The kid avoided me for years after that incident, and nobody in the school system gave me any guff after that. Lesson learned: If ya gotta fight, fight to win and then some. Leave the bullies in mortal fear of what might happen.
 
My senior year in HS there was a guy in my chemestry class that these 2 jerks liked to pick on. I had absolutly no problem with this guy, except that he could be a little annoying. Nothing big. Well, one day at lunch Jerk 1 and Jerk 2 decide to pick on him some more. One of them pinned his arms behind his back and the other grabbed his bottle of Coke, shook it up, and threw it at his feet so that it would explode all over him. I sat there and watched the whole thing, for the full 15-20 seconds that Jerk 2 shook his drink. I never did a thing. I never forgave myself. I could have easily taken both of these guys, (this was the middle of wrestling season; in shape was an understatement. I literally fought/wrestled for 3 hours straight every day after school), but I didn't do a :cuss: thing. To this day I think about and am embarrased in my total lack of intervention. If I could go back in time and do it over it would have been worth the suspension and probably getting arrested to ease my conscious. Needless to say, I have not and will not let something like this happen again.

Moral of the story: Sometimes you have to stand up not only for yourself, but for others who can't.

Now I have to go, thinking of this makes me sick with myself all over again.

Calhoun
 
In junior highschool I was a tall, skinny, innocent kid and got picked on by this one guy a lot. We were playing football at P.E. and as everyone was leaving the field, this guy and his even bigger buddy grabbed my arms and spanked me with a stick....laughing and ridiculing me the whole time. Man, I was crushed. Spoke with the Coach and my parents, nothing ever came of it.

Years later, I ran into this guy's attractive wife in a department store. I told her that he and I were old classmates, etc. She invited me to stop by the house sometime and visit. He worked long hours. Get the picture??? :evil:

I never did it though. But sometimes I regret it. Hey! I'm the victim here...
 
I vaugely remember the incident, but my Dad takes great joy in telling the story.
I think I was 6th grade, my brother 4th. I was playing on one part of the playground when two bigger kids cornered me with ill-intent. My brother was just on the other side of the fence. He's the fearless sort, always has been, always will be.
Well, we know signlanguage, and my brother indicated that he was coming over the fence and which boy he was going to jump from behind. He made his move, which immediately distracted the other boy, who I promptly sucker-punched.
The moral?
You never have the tactical advantage, only an illusion of such....and check your six!
:neener:
 
Too many to get into here. As my late father used to tell me:"A hard head makes for a soft butt." Really peculiar, him saying that. He was ready to fight at a hard look until his dying day. I've been in way more fights than most...he made me look like a babe in swaddling clothes. Man was six feet, 160 lbs, and avoided by the bad in four counties.
 
Lesson learned: Don't pick on the one armed kid.

When I was in high school, one of the kids that got picked on all the time was this one armed kid. He had lost most of his left arm in a farming accident. One day a guy dumped food on his head at lunch. The kid didn't say a thing, just grabbed the guy in a headlock with his good arm and with his stump of a left arm, proceeded to beat him unmerciful. The guys face was cut to ribbons. Nobody picked on the one armed kid after that.

tc
 
It seems like everyones' lessons were learned in grade school. Didn't any of you learn anything later in life?! :neener:

brad cook
 
The post by 1911Ron reminded me of an evening when I was driving home and noticed lights right on my tail. I sped up a bit and the vehicle behind me quickly did the same and began blinking the headlights. Up ahead was the local convenience store so I pulled in and stepped outside my truck pretty quickly.

Immediately I was under a verbal barrage from a deranged woman in her mid 50s. The absolute "poster child" of a typical b*tch. She had a ciagrette in one hand while her other hand was shaking a finger right in my face. She was cussing me up and down for pulling out in front of her, which may have been partially true considering she was going 80-90 mph in a 50mph zone.

In addition to the blue streak being spurted, she commented on how she should call her husband to come over and put a whoopin' on me. Now by this time I pretty much had enough but my options were few.

I respectfully apologized and offered to put gas in her car if she promised not to call her tough husband. She commented,"It's the least you could do for pissing me off like this.", and promptly pulled up to the tanks and got out, still cussing and went to the restroom.

Now this is a small community and I knew I didn't recognize this "lady". This was also my family's store. I whistled at my cousin inside and motioned for him to turn on the diesel pump. I then proceeded to top off her tank with around 10 gallons of diesel. I felt like I did my good deed for the day.

Then she had a reason to call her husband...
 
Actually "Warlock" was my name for him...I don't know what Wiccans believe or call themselves...Witches? Warlocks...Dreadlocks? Don't care. :rolleyes:
 
Senior year in HS. I was in an Anthropology class and one of the wannabee tough-guy sophomores, who I never had gotten along with, took a windbreaker and stroked me (as in a whipping). Now, a windbreaker is nothing - but the zipper smacked me at a pretty good clip just above one of my eyes.

OK, I was a pretty small guy, shorter than this guy (though I had been lifting weights for a while and was on the track team) and hadn't been in a fight for several years, but I couldn't stand for this - esp. not in front of the whole class. I got up, and in a Twilight Zone kind of moment I very clearly heard Patton's voice in my head (actually, George C. Scott's) saying "Slug the sonofabitch!" Well, I obeyed the good general with a hard roundhouse to his head (it would've been his nose, except that he moved at the last second). Damned near broke my fingers, but it stunned him for long enough that I was able to get my hands around his neck and start squeezing. It took 3 guys to pull me off. BTW, neither this jerk nor any of his friends ever f'd with me again.

Lesson learned: If you don't take any **** from bullies the first time around, there won't be a second time; sometimes a trip to the principal's office and the follow-up detention is well worth it.
 
It seems like everyones' lessons were learned in grade school. Didn't any of you learn anything later in life?!

Personally, I always felt that I waited too long. There are a whole lot of people that I should have beaten the absolute hell out of. I could have taken most of them quite easily. I have always been a little chunky. It is real hard to knock a fat kid down when he decides that you aren't going to knock him down. I was also very strong. Carrying around an extra 60+ pounds with you everywhere you go sort of makes you that way. I could have probably beaten anyone who ever messed with me completely to death, but for some reason I restrained myself.
I always wished that I hadn't, and I still do. I should have put the first kid that ever messed with me in a cast and then done it again when he healed.

Anymore, it is pretty much a reaction.
You threaten me and you had better be one quick, tough, determined SOB. If not, I will put you down. You had better be prepared to kill me because you may have to if you want to win. I will only fight when I consider something to be a real threat to my life or a threat to someone I care about. Should you be unfortunate enough to find yourself in that position, your best choice would be to turn and run as fast as you can.

I will walk away when I can and even turn the other cheek, once.

I haven't had to hit anyone in over 5 years now. Even one guy at a job I worked at who was much larger and stronger than me and a bully was careful about antagonizing me.
I am willing to fight. Even if you can't win, you have to be willing to resist. You have to be willing to go down with your teeth in their throat.
Eventhough this guy could have almost certainly taken me, he was afraid of me. He was scared because he was used to dominating people. When he couldn't intimidate me, I think he wondered why. It put enough doubt in his mind that he thought it was better to let me alone. I didn't even have to raise a finger against him because he knew that I was not an easy target.

I feel sorry for people who haven't learned these lessons yet. I am thinking that there are a whole lot of anti-gunners running around out there who would have been much better off if they had learned how important it is to be willing to defend yourself early on.

As I said, it was worth every penny (and every scar).
 
Goon

Even if you can't win, you have to be willing to resist. You have to be willing to go down with your teeth in their throat.
Click to expand...

I agree fully. My Dad told me that he avoided several fights in his younger days with larger guys by telling them "You might beat me badly, even put me in the hospital, but I promise that you will remember me for the rest of your life." Not showing any inclination to back down probably has as much deterrent value as several more inches and several dozen pounds of muscle.
 
I'll try to clear up some misunderstandings about what happened and my responses, one i looked around for a way out, two she turned around and got in her car before she got close to my truck, three i gave her no response to her tirade. When i said i would probably carry a gun in my truck i know what level of force i can use and what i cannot if she had come out of her car with a weapon and i had no other choice or no way out and i felt threatened, yes i would be justified in using deadly force. I know what my State allows for use of deadly force because we are trained on it every year at work,i also was an Acadamy trained Law Enforcement Officer for the Coast Guard.
 
My parents drilled an important lesson in my young. If I started a fight, threw the first punch, and I got beat up, I was responsible for my medical bills.

But if I defended myself from an attack, they wanted me to finish it as quickly and brutally as possible.

I learned in a fight when to go for the jugular, and when to make that decision that it is no longer a play ground fight, and when it became life and death. That lesson was learned when I was jumped by a kid in scouts, and while on the ground he was trying to get to our hatchets. Fortunatly for both of us, several people (5-6) pulled me off of him. I had already made the decision to live, and in my mind he was already a corpse.

I learned that sometimes, forgivness can be the greatest victory. I had a bully all through grade school all the way into high school. This kid was downright mean. He hated me cuz I hurt him the fist time he tried to bully me.

For years this guy would go after me. First it was fists, then came the knives, and he eventually tried to run me over in his car. When he missed, he tried again. Over and over again. I can't count the number of times that we got into knife fights.

Eventually, he was arrested and jailed after he held a broken bottle to his mom's throat.

Years later, he actually apologized, and I even helped get him a job.

I.G.B.
 
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