With Halloween coming up, I see a lot of witches riding brooms. A broomstick taught me to handle my own problems.
When we moved to the Anderson farm northwest of Durand, I was a fourth grader who increased the enrollment to nine at Putnam. I rode my bicycle to the school located on the corner about a quarter-mile east of our house. The second day, I came home out-of-breath, scared and crying. At the farm that sat on the north side of the blacktop, two dogs, one a large, collie type and the other a small, short-haired one, barked, growled and chased me. I pedaled hard to climb the small hill to our driveway and leave the animals behind. I’d always liked dogs but apparently, those two didn’t like me. My parents commiserated with me.
Dad and Mom didn’t begin driving me to school to keep me safe nor did they confront our middle-aged neighbors. Instead, my folks gave me a tool to solve my problem. Mom found an old broom. Dad sawed off about two feet from the top of the handle. The broomstick made an excellent club I could easily grip. I was nine years old and adept at riding my bike. I could steer with my left hand and wield the weapon with my right.
The next day, I stashed the stick in the basket attached to the handlebars of my bike. In the morning, there was no sign of the dogs. On my way home, when I used their side of the road, the dogs came out to terrorize me. I swung the stick and they backed off. The next afternoon, the two came after me again. A couple thumps with the club sent them yelping back to their house. I carried the broomstick for a few more days but the dogs had lost their fascination with me. That was the beginning of my confidence to solve my own problems.
How did you learn self-sufficiency?