Spanish I, and Earl Coffey

So, here's how things began. In 1982, I started my freshman year at Chantilly High School. As you can see, I brought a credit of Spanish I with me from the eighth grade. (I was absent for four days that year (my grandmother died mid-way through the school year). Rocky Run Intermediate School was for 7th and 8th grade, and that is when I began to dislike school. However, at this time, I was keeping my grades up, and this B+ is indicative of those days, I believe.

Rocky Run was a ridiculous school. It was shaped like some kind of ellipse, like a space city would be designed. When you walked in the halls, you never really saw more than 50 feet, because it kept curving inward. Sort of like the Death Star.

I need to clarify something I said above. I always disliked school, but I think this is when I started to detest it. As far as I know, my parents were too distracted with their own problems to bother with my school performance. In the six years between 1980 and 1986, I remember talking about my school progress three times with my parents. I don't know if they didn't care, or what, but I realized by 1982-3 that I did not really have to try anymore.

I made no new friends in Intermediate School, pretty much keeping with my friends from Greenbriar East elementary. I remember having a distrust for the kids from Brookfield elementary, but my sworn enemies attended Greenbriar West. There was an important element that was added at Rocky Run, the redneck kids from Braddock Road. Those kids were tough.

I remember one in particular. This was my first week (7th) grade at Rocky Run and I happened to be sitting near a fellow 7th grader that looked about 24. His name was Earl Coffey, and he wanted to be a truck driver. I laughed at that, and he grabbed my ear. He told me that he wouldn't let go until I cried. It took about 15 seconds. My brother was in the eighth grade, and he had heard about this. He got after me about crying in front of the whole crowd at lunch. I pressed him on how to get even, and he said something to the effect that Earl's life was going to suck eggs. My only recourse was to think that I was probably headed for a better life. My brother was good about seeing perspective like this, at least in my life.

Earl, where are you? It is over 20 years later, so I am now hoping that your life turned out okay. In fact, I didn't think ill of you after a month, so I hope karma was not too brutal for you. I don't even remember seeing you past January of that year, did you move? Maybe you enlisted in the armed forces and they helped set you straight. Earl, this post is dedicated to you.

--gh