The Dragon and Captain Bill

Captain Bill, the Merchant Marine sea captain, was my brother's lifelong friend.  Well, livelong since the junior year in high school.  Bill was lovely to little children and a genial host and guest.  He could be raw and ugly especially to his wife, even in front of company.   Over and over through the years my brother swore he'd never have anything to do with Bill again, but over and over friendship won out and the door was open for the kid who slept on our couch nights when he had nowhere else to go.

Maybe Bill never got over his childhood.  His father had issues and wasn't around much.  His older brother abused him.  School was a nightmare since he was the littlest guy on the bus in a world where little guys were easy prey.  Bill started fighting back.  He may have lost every fight, but he put up such fierce resistance that people started leaving him alone.  Then he got to middle school and discovered wrestling and weightlifting.  He worked out like a demon.  His schoolyard fights were legendary.  Pretty soon, nobody in Farmingdale or the surrounding towns messed with Billy H.  And pretty soon Billy H stopped messing with anyone.  He was on a Vision Quest for a college scholarship and the Olympic wrestling team.  That dream ended on a controversial call in the New York State wrestling championships, but all the hard work paid off with an offer of admission to the New York State Maritime Academy.

While the rest of America burned, Farmingdale quietly integrated its high school in the 1960s.  The school board led by old man Weathers just decided one night to turn the two small high schools into middle schools and open a big new high school on the south side of town.  When it opened up there were the black kids from North Amityville.  Not much fuss.  The football teams became powerhouses.

Farmingdale High School

150 Lincoln Avenue

Farmingdale, New York

Young Captain Bill was walking down the hall one day, senior year, contemplating the new life that awaited him.  He bumps into someone and apologizes.  It's a black kid, a new kid at the school who doesn't know the legends or landscape.  The black kid flies into a rage and shoves Bill.

Bill says,  "Don't do that."
"F... you, motherf..er!  Let's go [fight]!" 
The black kid is hopping around like Muhammad Ali.
"Look I'm sorry," says Bill  (God, I don't need this now I'm going to college).
"You a punk! Let's go!"
"What did you say?" 
The young black has opened the door to a dangerous place.  He's thinking he's having a little fun intimidating a soft, short, white suburban kid.
"You heard me.  You a punk."  You punkin' out!"
The young black stepped through the door into the very dangerous place.
"You punkin' out!"
"Nobody says Billy H punked out!  I'll see you at the Lake after school."

What and where's the Lake thinks the black kid.  The Lake was a pond in a wooded area behind the high school at the intersection of Southern State Parkway and Bethpage State Parkway.  It was where the high school kids went to settle their differences.

Pride and anger boxed Billy into a corner.   He's missed too many driver's ed classes already.  If he misses another, he flunks the course.  Who else does he turn to for help: my brother.  

"Tim, I got to fight this black kid after school.  I can't miss anymore driver's ed,  Go down to the Lake and tell him to wait for me and I'll be there if he still wants a piece of me."
"God, Billy, just let it go.  You don't need to fight.  You have nothing to prove."
"He called me a punk, Tim.  He's saying I punked out.  Nobody says Billy H punked out.
"Give it a rest Billy.  You're going to college.  Nobody will believe him anyway and next year you'll be at a school with people who don't know or care...unless you do this stupid thing and get thrown in jail for massacring some black kid."
"Nobody says Billy H punked out.   Do this for me, Tim."
"Ok, but it's a very bad idea."

So my brother treks on down to the Lake.  By the time he gets there, there's a big crowd.  The white kids have gotten word that Billy H, the legend, is about to reenter the ring.   The black kid, still in the dark about what he's gotten into, is there with a bunch of the brothers to back him up.  My brother walks up to him.

"The guy you want to fight is going to be late.   It's a bad idea, but if you still want to fight him he'll be here in a little while after he finishes driver's ed."

The brothers backing up the new kid know my brother from the football team.  They look at each other.  One of them walks over to my brother.

"Mac, who's the brother fighting."
My brother sighs and announces:  "He's picked a fight with Billy H."
"Thanks, Mac."
The football brother goes back to the black kid and drags the now very bewildered brother off.
"Let's go.  You ain't fightin' no Billy H."