When I moved to Dover Delaware from New Jersey in 1975 I entered the 5th grade at William Henry Middle school. I had no idea that from 1952 until 1966 William Henry Middle School was the “William Henry Comprehensive High School”, the only high school for African Americans in Kent County. A showpiece school opened to prove that separate could be equal, with its planetarium and well furnished band, art and shop class rooms, it still seemed somewhat grand for middle school when I arrived in the mid 70’s.
But that segregation stuff, like all history to kids, was ancient history. All I knew is that I liked my teachers, my classes and enjoyed classmates. That is, I enjoyed my classmates with one notable exception. I had never been in a fistfight before but I was not at William Henry long when got in one with a chubby obnoxious kid who was just spoiling for trouble. I forget the actual reason for the fight. Maybe it was just two chubby obnoxious kids destine to scrap it out. I do remember that I was pleased to have landed a few solid shots. Strangely, after the fight he considered me his friend. That was actually worse than when he was itching to fight because I soon found out that he wasn’t simply obnoxious. He was nuts. Really nuts.
He was obsessed with guns. He talked about guns all he time. He talked about the gun that killed Kennedy, and talked about the M16 versus the Kalashnikov. He didn’t talk about hunting but he did talk about about using a gun to murder his step mother. But it was 1975, so I didn’t think much about his gun and murder talk. There was no way for him get his hands on an M16 or a Kalashnikov, so it all became white noise to me.
A year or so passed, and he talked about how he bought a gun kit from an ad in the back of a magazine. It was a historical reproduction of some kind of colonial era pistol. When he finished it he said he was going to use it to murder his stepmother.
Another year passed and I heard that he murdered his stepmother with a pistol he made from a kit. I’m sure I’m not the only one who knew about the plan because, even though he was crafty and shot her through a wall in the house while she was at the kitchen sink doing dishes, he still got the max for a juvenile.
As I think about his gun obsession, and I think about the lengths he went to get a gun, I consider myself lucky that all of this played out in the mid 1970’s and not today. I’m very sure that the same troubled but crafty mind today would have figured out how to get a gym bag full of military weapons.
If all of this played out today he’d have the Delaware Sportsman’s Association (NRA) in his corner.