Damsel-In-Distress Syndrome
Wade Phillips had an auspicious start in life. His parents loved him beyond measure and doted over him as most caring parents do. However, as a toddler at the age of two, his father died in an industrial accident at the textile mill where he worked. His mother was devastated and ended up working two jobs to make ends meet but a heart attack claimed her less than a year after losing her husband. Many believed she died of a broken heart. With no other close family members who could take him, the three-year-old ended up as a ward of the State at the local Woodmere Orphanage. Woodmere, located in an impoverished county, wasn't large enough to support its own grade school, so the twenty or so orphans attended the local public schools.
At the time, Wade was the youngest ward of the orphanage. The others were in upper grades, so when he started school, he had no friends from the orphanage who attended class with him that could take him under their wing. He soon learned that he was an outcast, different than his schoolmates. The orphanage kids were all looked down on by others. They weren't dressed as well. Everything he wore was a hand-me-down or a charitable donation. The local town masonic lodge helped support Woodmere's residents by supplying Christmas gifts and sponsoring celebratory summer bar-b-cues. But school kids can say and do the cruelest things and Wade was victimized at every opportunity, bullied, and picked on during his formative years.
His plight soon toughened him both physically and mentally. He could scrap with the best of them and most often came out on top when picked on or attacked. He learned to ignore the verbal barbs and tendered the
'sticks and stones'
saying to inform any verbal bully that he wasn't playing their game which frustrated their efforts. But if someone pushed him or started anything physical, he was only too eager to give back as good, if not better, than he received.
Wade pretty much kept to himself and did his own work. Very few had any desire to hang out with him but everyone knew who he was and respected his fists.
It was nearing the end of his sixth-grade year in school, one afternoon while heading for the school bus stop he came upon a quasi-familiar scene as he rounded the corner of a building. A girl, younger than himself was in distress. Two well-known bullies had thrown her books to the ground and were harassing and groping her. Another younger kid must have tried to come to her aid because he was lying on the ground bleeding from the mouth and crying.
Ordinarily, Wade would have passed on by not bothering to interfere because the girl was not from the orphanage. But something inside him compelled him to insert himself into the situation.
"What's goin' on here?" Wade asked emphatically.
"We're just having some fun is all, none of your business anyway so just keep goin'." One of the bullies insisted.
Wade knew both of the bullies and had fought both of them before, but never together. Still, he couldn't just walk away. Seeing the smaller boy beaten on the ground inflamed his anger.
"Why don't you pick on somebody your own size? You cowards so chicken you have to pick on little kids and girls now?" He injected.
"There's two of us; what do you think you can do about it?" Offered the bullies with fists raised threateningly.
Without saying another word, Wade charged into both boys swinging and flailing for all he was worth. He'd never taken on two at once before and had no idea whether or not he could lick them both, but he never let them know that. A crowd soon collected and the onlookers encouraged the fight. Wade's wild swing unintentionally flung his fist into the throat of one of the bullies and he went down immediately. That evened the odds considerably and he made short work of the other bully quickly. They both quickly rose and ran away from further confrontation.
Wade picked up the girl's book bag and handed it to her. She thanked him and helped the little boy get up and they brushed each other off, thanked him again, and walked away. The little boy couldn't take his eyes off Wade. He'd never witnessed such a selfless act and it made quite an impression on the young lad.
Wade was aware that he'd been born on the wrong side of the tracks, having been raised on the poor side of town. Hardships and struggling were all he had ever known. Three-fourths of the town was comprised of mill village row houses and scattered trailer parks, barely meeting the necessities of life and affording few luxuries. The north side of town is where the wealthy mill owners, store owners, and the rich resided. Their names were always in the local newspapers lauded as generous benefactors to this cause or that, seldom accomplishing anything of real value.
Wade struggled with the school assignments and tests and barely squeaked by. However, when he made it to the eighth grade in junior high school, he had Mrs. Crenshaw, an elderly lady, for math. One day she asked him to come back to her class after school which caused him to believe he was in serious trouble. After school, he stopped back by as directed.
"Thank you, Wade, for coming to see me. If you miss your bus, I promise to get you back where you belong. Please have a seat."
"Yes, ma'am. Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?" He timidly implored.
"Absolutely not, young man. I take it that you do not remember me, do you?" The elderly woman inquired.
"Not before coming to this school, no ma'am. Have we met before?" He appealed.
She gave him a big smile and said, "I used to bounce you on my knee up until your mother passed away."
"Did you know my mother?" He anxiously asked with interest.
