Mis Education of a Hero

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the last time I saw Eric Shivers. It is not because of what happened during this encounter. We just had a normal conversation. Well, at least as normal of a conversation that you can have after what happened on the bus—the time that I thought would actually be the last time I saw him. I was wrong. And, like some type of clairvoyant, he jumped right into the discussion of what was on my mind—my inquiry for the motive of the actions that he had a few days ago displayed.

What happened? I was sitting on the bus on the way home, talking with my two best friends; caught in our usual meaningless but entertaining banter. Then Eric came up to us with a very serious look on his face. I asked him what was going on. He pointed to a guy sitting in the back of the bus, and he told us, “If he ain’t got my stuff, I’ma beat his a**”. Eric had gained a reputation with us as a guy prone to exaggerate or make up stories altogether. Unfortunately, this time he was telling the truth. After his apocalyptic decree, he swiftly walked past us, and within a few steps , he was standing in front of the pale, red-haired kid who was bobbing his head to whatever song blasted through his over sized headphones. Then, Eric struck. Next, Eric struck again. The red-haired kid tried to put up a fight, but his efforts did not last very long. Soon, all I saw was my short, stocky friend stabbing his fists into the seat in a rotating, almost choreographic fashion, and blood began to squirt out like water from yard sprinklers. After a few more crushing blows, Eric decided his damage was done. So, he walked to the front of the bus, gave the driver a shrewd look, and out of absolute terror she opened the door to let Eric escape.

I looked up to Eric. He had taken me “under his wing”, so to speak. He helped me develop my basketball skills. He made sure the older kids in the neighborhood gave me a chance when they would play pick-up games on the street or the driveway. And although he did not teach me to beat the blood out of people, he taught me how to believe in myself.

Suddenly, a few days after Eric scampered away from the bus, I was face-to-face with one of my heroes, and all I could think about was the malicious beating he put on that red-haired kid. His actions had been so violent and spontaneous that it was hard not to be afraid of him at that moment, but still I stood there, on a sidewalk midway from our houses, and listened to his explanation of what happened. He told me where he went after he left the bus. He told me how the police caught him and about his following court appearance. Then, after the conversation ended, we went our separate ways, and I had to deal with the reason Eric provided. It turns out Eric massacred that kid on the bus because the kid borrowed a CD from him and hadn’t returned it yet.

I never saw Eric again after that, but every now and again, I wonder about him. I do not really spend too much time on wondering what happened to him, where he probably is now, and picturing what kind of live he currently lives. That gets too depressing. What I think about is a factor that many consider uncontrollable; a factor people like to try to rule out of our minds—the “if” factor. I wonder what Eric’s actions would have been if he had really known how much I looked up to him. I wonder how he would have been if he had realized the type of influence he had. Moreover, I wonder if he would have been willing to throw away this high regard I had of him for a CD.

When I look at the situation with Tiger Woods and reflect on the ordeal with Steve McNair, I think about Eric Shivers. I wonder why these men had the audacity to think that they could lead normal lives as if no one was watching. I wonder why they even became heroes in the first place. Then, I remember the great things they have accomplished, and I wonder how I could have forgotten. I guess I forgot their accomplishments the same way that they forgot that little boys were watching them; believing in them. Eric taught me two lessons. First, violence is not cool. Secondly, before you act, think carefully about who may be watching. Be a part of the Solution.

OxyJon