Forgive me if my memory is not perfect, but this is one high school happening I want to share on the occasion of the passing of a beloved classmate. I have recounted this story dozens of times and struggle to get it right each time. I never do justice to it as a comedy, but I want to try and maybe some classmates will assist me in recreating it in memory of our friend.
In the spring of 1988, just before our graduation from high school, we had a student teacher named Leesa Williams who asked Jeff Smith and me to stage a fight. After our fake fight, Ms. Williams was going to ask all of the students to write about what they saw. The fake fight would have probably faded into my memory if some of the writings presented later were not so memorable. Jeff and I cooked up a plan to argue and then scuffle following lunch. I don't remember what we were (fake) arguing about, but I knew it had to culminate in a fight, so when Jeff started jaw-jacking with me, I kept poking at him. It was very awkward and clumsy, but wasn't everything we did in high school. Jeff yelled at me to be quiet, I told him to buzz off and make me be quiet if he didn't like it. So, he lunged at me and we rolled up against the wall swinging wildly at each other, but barely making impact. I even caught myself laughing at one point and then realized that was going to compromise the whole plan and corrected myself. We sold every last one of our classmates on the authenticity of our fight. Spencer Sheffield and Scott Walker and Steve Swafford even jumped between us to break us up. They were perfect props to allow us to continue to sell the act, leaping and swinging and running at each other, testing their ability to keep us separated. We sold the fight so well that when Ms. Williams took us into the hall to "discipline" us for the "fight", she jumped between us when we went to shake hands. You have never seen a student teacher so relieved (not to have to find an alternate profession) when she realized we were only shaking hands. She confessed that we sold her on the fight and after a half second of thought was very pleased that the writing assignment she was about to convey upon the rest of our class would be completely authentic - they all thought the fight was real.
That is a lot of background, but I remember that fake fight because of three students - Amanda Smith, Tracy Ervin, and I think Hope Harlan was the last one, but I may stand corrected when my classmates read this. I remember Amanda's account of the fight because she publicly stated her belief I had no chance of winning. This severely affected my psyche and may have been the biggest reason I joined the Army and became a career warrior (just kidding, but I owed Amanda that line as payback). Hope (I believe it was Hope) said that she completely bought our act, but was baffled as to why Mrs. Noell walked in, took something from her desk, walked out, and paid Jeff and me no mind whatsoever. I had not noticed that and found it hilarious upon reflection. Mrs. Noell didn't realize that she, too, had almost compromised the whole operation.
That was not the most hilarious account though. My good buddy, Deacon Ervin, read his account of the fight and had us all in stitches. Deacon was sitting directly behind me when we faked the fight and he was not in on the gag - at all. In fact, in a rare moment of poor scholarship, Deacon was completely distracted from the happenings in class and was counting money from some fund raiser. I can't for the life of me remember if it was from church, school, or some community venture, but he had a desk full of change when the fight broke out. I hate to admit it, but in spite of planning a fight, the speed at which Jeff lunged at me caught me off guard and we ended up completely tangled up before I got out of my desk. The result of this upon Deacon's collection of change was a total launch of the balance of his account. As Jeff and I put our hearts into selling our fight, Deacon pounced onto the floor to recover his change. He was counting as he recovered to make sure no penny was lost. Deacon recounted his drama in a way that only he could and I laughed so hard (along with my classmates), that my ribs hurt. He never even cracked a smile as he told his version of the events, but he was the only one in the room not smiling - the only one not belly laughing.
To this day, that is the only fight I have ever been in that resulted in sore ribs from laughing. Every day with Deacon was like that - he inspired the best of us all the time and I know I will never again culminate a fight with that much laughter. I miss him already and I wish I had the words to make everybody understand what a treasure the world has lost. I hurt too badly to try on this day, but I will try again later to make sure nobody underestimates what a loss the world has suffered with the tragic passing of Tracy Deacon Ervin. I will see you again Deacon and we will laugh together as we did that day. Until then, rest in peace, Brother Deac.
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