Autobiography of a Maquoketa Boy-2.pdf - Microelectronics ...

Autobiography of a Maquoketa Boy
Richard B. Wells
superior school. The only Catholic boys who went to P.S. 1 were either the ones who weren’t good
enough to pass the classes at Marquette, or whose parents couldn’t afford to send them there, or who had
reputations for being troublemakers. Not infrequently, I found all three traits in the same kid.
The next thing I found out was that, despite the fact the school was so small compared to Maquoketa,
the kids segregated themselves even further into social cliques. The main division was the one between
the Putman clan and everybody else. The extended Putman family occupied much of the south side of
town. Almost everybody down there, it seemed, was either a Putman or a cousin to a Putman. Although in
fact the family was into a lot of different trades, most people described them as being commercial
fishermen who wrested a living from the Mississippi. This reputation was in fact being overstated, but
what wasn’t overstated was that their family did spring from a commercial fishing background, and in a
river town commercial fishermen were generally known to be the toughest of the tough. It’s a hard life.
The Putman boys were Catholics and, not surprisingly, every one of them had a reputation for being a
very tough kid nobody wanted to mess with. That little incident on the school bus had thrown me into the
‘tough kid’ clique in the eyes of the other kids, so I knew I’d have to do something pretty fast to establish
myself with the Putmans or there was going to be big trouble. The Putman clan stuck together and I sure
didn’t want half the boys in Bellevue out for my hide. I also knew the first move was going to be up to
me. I was ‘that Maquoketa kid’ and either I made friends with the Putmans or they would be coming after
me. That much nobody had to tell me. I was sure of it.
The third day or so, I saw one of the Putman boys, Danny, shooting baskets by himself in the gym
during the lunch hour. Bellevue didn’t have a football team, but they did have a basketball team and the
whole town was nuts for basketball. That wasn’t too surprising. The only other sports they had were track
and field, baseball, and golf. Basketball was the big deal in Bellevue twelve months a year.
Anyway, here was Danny by himself shooting baskets. He was a pretty big kid. Not fat; just big. I
strolled over to where he was and, sure enough, pretty soon he missed a shot and the ball bounced my
way. I caught it, tossed it back to him, and asked if he minded if I joined him. From his reaction I got the
idea not too many kids hung around with Danny other than his brother and his cousins. Danny didn’t talk
much and he wasn’t much of a scholar. That made most of the other kids think he was dumb, which he
wasn’t. Danny’s knowledge was practical knowledge, not book knowledge, and – as I came to find out
later – he had a lot of people knowledge. Danny was a mighty good judge of character and I came to find
out later on that he was awfully particular about who he’d associate with. If he thought somebody was a
bum or a hood or a snob, he wouldn’t have anything to do with them and they’d best not try to force
themselves on him. Danny was awfully strong even for his size and he had great big fists that he knew
how to use. But, like a lot of big guys, Danny was a peaceful guy at heart and pretty much all he wanted
was for people he didn’t like to leave him alone. Danny was as choosy about his friends as a gourmet is
about food.
But I’d find all this out later. That day he gave me a hard, searching look then nodded his assent. We
shot baskets and chatted until it was time to go back to class. Turned out I did most of the chatting. Danny
only talked when he had something to say. He must have decided I was alright, because he let me chum
around with him from that day on. In pretty much no time at all, he was my best friend at P.S. 1. Of
course, for awhile he was my only friend. We started hanging around together after school. My first
meeting with his brother Ricky a few weeks later didn’t start out as well.
If you saw Danny and Ricky standing side by side you might not know they were brothers. Danny was
tall, big-boned, and pacific. Ricky was short, wiry, and fiery. Like with Danny, I met Ricky on the
basketball court. This was during a pickup game a bunch of us were having during the lunch hour. I was
on one side, Ricky on the other. The other boys on my team were reluctant to guard Ricky on defense, so
I found myself guarding him.
Like a lot of tough kids who didn’t go out for athletics, Ricky wasn’t as skilled at dribbling, passing,
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