Age 11: The Year of the Bully

My mom and dad decided that it would be best for dad to leave the army.  My brothers and I were really starting to be affected by the poor education we were receiving.  We moved from Tennessee (which was devastating to me) to St. Paul, Minnesota because my dad needed to receive 2 months of training for his new job in New York.  I don’t remember much about Minnesota except the little boys next door and it being really cold in November.  After our 2 month stint in St. Paul, our next temporary move was to Yonkers, NY while we searched for the house that we would call home for the next 27 years.


My brothers, me and the kids next door in Minnesota. Less than 2 months later we were wearing parkas. Sorry, no photos of Yonkers. Too traumatic.


Yonkers was quite an experience.  Let’s just say you had to have street smarts to live there, of which I had zilch.  We had to walk to and from school every day because the city lacked a bus system at the time.  I remember my mom walking us the first day so we would know how to get there and back.  After that, we were on our own.  I can’t remember complaining about it…ever.  We just did what we had to do.

Once I got to school, I didn’t make many friends.  I made the mistake of staring down a girl on the first day.  How did a skinny white girl who weighed about 50 pounds soaking wet think that would go?  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I never stood up for myself before in my entire life, and Yonkers is where I chose to do so?  I remember these girls hanging out on the street corner to give me a hard time – pushing, shoving, name calling.  It was a pathetic scene.  One especially nice girl hit me over the head with a baton; you know, the kind you twirl with.  I’m not sure if I ever shared this with my mom.  I probably didn’t want to worry her.  My brothers were not spared the same type of treatment.


The weapon of choice


We rented a 2-bedroom apartment while my parents found a permanent home.  My brothers and I had to share a room.  I remember my dad hanging up a curtain to divide our space in half so that I could have a little privacy.  The slumlord, um, I mean LANDLORD was this awful man with a tyrannical temper.  He used to scream at my dad for any little mishap.  The final straw was the spaghetti down the drain incident.  This was cause for Big Bad Landlord to threaten my dad’s life.  Rumor had it that he chased his brother-in-law around the block with a loaded gun.  This rumor, whether true or not, scared my parents enough to want to get out of dodge.  We immediately packed up our belongings, rented a moving van and skipped town dead in the middle of the night.  It was like a scene out of The Godfather.

Just so I’m not a complete Negative Nelly, I do have one decent memory from that time period.  Our upstairs’ neighbors owned a deli a couple of blocks away.  I remember the little girl had rotted front teach.  I always thought that it was from eating too much candy from her parents’ store.   We used to go to the deli to get free candy.  That’s it.  That’s my good memory.  Not the rotted out teeth part, but the candy part.

We all survived our 3 month stint and it made us stronger.  Like my mom always said, “What doesn’t kill you, builds character.”  I guess those angels were back and working overtime!


About scrapbookeasy

Thank you for visiting my blog! Here's a little about me: I am now a stay-at-home mom courtesy of a little epidemic called "A Bad Economy." It was quite a blessing in disguise because all this new-found free time gave me the opportunity to start an online scrapbooking supply business (you can find us at We are geared toward the busy scrapper and offer easy to use products and kits -- sorry, shameless plug). Scrapbooking is a craft I found, jumped into and became an addict of almost 20 years ago. I love history, so what better way to preserve my own history through this wonderful craft, right? I love to share new things that I learned, discovered or think about with everyone so enjoy!

Posted on December 2, 2010, in Memorabilia Pockets. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. What a tough time! I’m glad that all this was temporary and that you found a permanent home for 27 years. That puts surviving these things in perspective.

  2. Glad this was a temporary time for you. Wow how tough and at such a young age!

  3. I loved this. Its sad, but so real for you. How hard that must have been! Also, how exciting to leave in the middle of the night like that! I’m glad you came out no worse for the wear!
    -Emily (group3)

  4. I can empathize with you. I was bullied by two boys as I would walk home from school most days. They literally would want my money. My mom bought me socks that had a pocket. LOL Imagine that…I think if these incidents like yours and mine happened today, there would be heavy consequences. Times have changed. I believe each circumstance leads us to who we will become and where we need to be. Thanks for sharing that frightening time period. Another incredible peek !

  5. Oh my Yonkers sounds bonkers! Glad you got out of town!

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