Retrospect: Danny, part 1

Self-tutoring about people and events from the past: the tutor recollects…

Danny was a kid most people – myself included – would say was a nice guy. I knew him in grade 8. I was a base kid then, who was bussed off base each morning to go to school “in town.” Danny, on the other hand, was a local kid: to my knowledge, he’d always lived in that town.

Just because of geography, the town where the school was located was a fair distance from the base – it might have been 15 km. The area between was rugged. Therefore, the people in Danny’s town typically hadn’t much connection to the military base – if any. I’d say Danny didn’t either, except he knew some base kids who went to his same school.

While Danny attended school, he wasn’t focused on it at all. Rather, he was definitely a “people person,” completely focused on social interaction. His world and mine barely intersected because most of the people he knew, he’d known his whole life. On the other hand, I had no history in that town, nor would I: I was scheduled to live on the base for two years, then move away. During that time I’d bus to school and back five days a week. I never spent any time “in town.” From Danny’s point of view, the important part of his life happened outside of school, never at it. Therefore, we hadn’t the chance to develop much in common.

Even so, Danny was an interesting person to watch “from afar.” He was outgoing and often participated in class discussions. He sat at the front of the column next to mine; I sat second in mine.

Danny was never short of ideas, and often brought up ones that were controversial or that other people didn’t believe. He wasn’t cowed, though: he stuck to his point, whatever it was at the time. When he was present, he was a focal point, to be sure. Yet, he was modest: he didn’t call attention to himself, but to interesting things he’d heard or learned.

Although the weather wasn’t particularly attractive in that place, September, with its long, sunny days, brought promise to the new school year like you typically imagine. Everyone, seemingly, was happy enough to start the new school year with optimism which lasted, more or less, until Christmas.

One day in March, after lunch, I noticed that Danny’s seat was vacant. Yet, he’d been there that morning. Then I started thinking more about it and realized that he usually was absent the afternoon, since sometime past Christmas. It was odd he’d been able to manage that, since he sat at the front and was quite outspoken. Yet, somehow, his absence after lunch had gone unmentioned, even though it had been occurring for weeks. I said nothing about it, of course, since it was none of my business.

Perhaps people’s thoughts naturally synchronize: soon after, the teacher mentioned to Danny that he “seemed to have trouble finding his way back after lunch.” (I think Danny had always gone home for lunch, anyway, although most kids didn’t — Danny didn’t like spending unnecessary time at school.) Danny didn’t respond, which was uncharacteristic of him. About five minutes later, the teacher headed to the office for a couple of minutes. After he left, Danny muttered under his breath, “You think I’ve got troubles in school – I’ve got more trouble at home.” No-one commented, but I’m sure I’m not the only person who heard him.

Looking back, I suspect there were at least two things going on with Danny that I didn’t realize at the time:

1. I think Danny was “growing up,” whereas most other people in the class were still kids, and would remain that way for several years.
2. Danny’s important social contacts were with people not from that school. In fact, there was another, much bigger one in the town. I heard of it, and of kids who went there, but never knew where it was.

Danny was one of those kids – every school seems to have one – who already looked like an adult. He could’ve passed for 25 when he was in 8th grade. He dressed like an adult, too – he wore a black leather jacket, which, back then, kids didn’t wear.

Danny was interesting to observe, for sure. For one thing, he was truly a local kid. Therefore, although he didn’t like school, the school, as a building, was a landmark to him where he would socialize after hours. I learned this one day as our family drove by there, passing though town – it might have been a Saturday. There was Danny, standing beside the school with a couple of friends I didn’t recognize. They were smiling and laughing, all smoking cigarettes. I’m sure Danny saw me in the car, but we didn’t talk at school, so it never came up.

In grade 9 Danny faded into the background. He must’ve been around, but I can’t remember him past grade 8. At the end of grade 9, I moved away. This was in the 80s.

Who was Danny? What was his life outside school? It’s hard to imagine ever learning. Danny was one of those people who I knew of, but never knew.