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Benfleet A1

Hector Of The House
Joined
Jan 19, 2007
Messages
8,339
Location
Slade Prison
Now bare with me good readers, this is going somewhere but I want to give it some background first. When I was a kid I was bullied, bad. My first taste of it was at the grand old age of 4 years old at nursery school where a phycotic 5 year old used to attack the entire fraturnity. He would rip up drawings and paintings, chuck pastry shape makers at you and try to cut your hair with the round nosed scissors. It only stopped after the mums refused to take their kids in after he attempted stab one child with those scissors in the ear. He ended up being committed at 12 years of age after attacking a class mate with a screwdriver during a woodwork class at King John School around 1980. As far as I'm aware, he is still sectioned.

I grew up on an rough house estate in Thundersley where the order of the day was fight back or be battered. Back then, good parenting meant kicking the kids out of the door after breakfast and not expecting to see them again until lunch or, even better, teatime. One day I got thumped by a lad my own age for something I cannot be bothered to remember but do remember punching him back. Instantly, a pack had gathered baying for blood and the two of us were soon surrounded with the chant of 'fight, fight, fight' ringing in our ears. Both of us were scared but offered a couple of half hearted blows to keep the crowd happy. Suddenly, through the crowd came this lads bigger brother who was much more polished and proceeded to take me to school. Good sence prevailed as I fell to the ground crying my eyes out more frightened than hurt but it stopped the onslaught and let me run off home to mother. I really wanted a bigger brother back then.

That should have been the end of it but no, the next day the lads bigger brother spotted me skulking about and started taunting me, then tripping me as I tried to walk away, then finally giving me a good hiding for the hell of it. I was 5 years old, he was twice my age. As I said, it was kill or be killed in our neighbourhood and telling tales to mum and dad just wasn't the done thing so I put up with it. Being tall for my age probably didn't help but it seemed to give a green light to every budding streetfighter to take a pop at yours truly. Don't get me wrong, I could more than hold my own against kids of my own age but the older bigger kids were taking there toil. My Navy boxing champion, tough as old boots father's attitude was if they whacked you then whack em back which was fine and dandy against my own size but when a kid twice your age decided to loosen up on you the result was never going to be a home win in my favour.

My mum was getting concerned with her off-springs appearance by now. She remembered that she had given birth to a baby boy and not a baby panda because that was what I was beginging to look like. Bruises everywhere, black eyes and fat lips, I looked like a bad sparring partner for Henry Cooper. Finally, after much badgering and removal of any horizontal pleasures, mother got father to take action. And he did. He taught me every dirty trick in the book. Very soon I had lumps 2x2 hidden in hedges and had full permission to snap car arials off for protection if needed. I found out that elbows were not just for leaning on and the meat and two veg was a viable target. The next time I was picked on I put my new found tricks of the trade to the test. Two kids from up the road were at a loose end so decided to come hunting for me for a bit of light relieve. I was kicking a ball up against a wall scoring yet another FA Cup goal when they appeared. We were in a walk through alley, nice and quite and away from prying eyes. I'll be brief but it was carnage. Brother number one took a punt that very nearly put him over an 8ft wall and he will never have children. Brother number two lost his bottle and headed for the hills, with me in hot pursuit. AH HA the worm had turned.

The worm didn't turn as much as I had hoped because two weeks later I was ambushed by the two lads much bigger brother and ended up in hospital. I had my entire quota of brown stuff kicked out of me as well as an fractured jaw, bruised ribs, dislowcated shoulder and a ruptured testicle. I was 6 years old, he was 17. I was told in later years that the shoulder wasn't down to him, made me feel so much better. While I was in hospital, my attacker met with a nasty accident which resulted in him needing a walking stick until his dieing day in 1990 when he died in a head on car crash. He also recieved a dislodged eye socket and a shattered jaw bone. Plastic surgery wasn't very good back then in 1971, he wasn't very pretty after that.

Not long after I was released from hospital I ran into a old foe who fancied another go but decided to bring his 22 year old brother along. This was just too much for daddykins who appeared like the shopkeeper from Mr Benn and proceeded to keep Southend General A&E busy. Someone broke the cardinal rule and called the police. Pater was hauled away, 22 year old hardcase was ambulanced away and mother got away with it by the skin of her teeth because she had my baby sister in her arms. Father returned the next day with venom and revenge in his heart, things were going to change.

It must have been about 1972 when Auntie Puss(Catalina get it?) came to stay. She was mums sister, the future family success story but in those days as green as an oak leaf. She had taken my baby sister out for a walk in her pram but ran into some of the local scumbags who just wanted to start trouble. A high pitched scream alerted mother who charged up the road and waded in like a seasoned pro, myself followed with misguided determination to protect mum. With impeccible timing, the old man was just turning into the street after a hard days work and saw the riot developing. We were close friends with one particular family who had huge numbers while our opponents were equal friends with another mob handed family. It was a proper battle. The old man was going through them like a deranged windmill, mother was no slouch and was flying the flag for Leigh on Sea while I was sent flying by a well aimed right hander into a garden. Our allies (Frood was the name) was taking the battle to our foes (the Colliers and the Castles) and we were making progress. By the time the police turned up there was bodies everywhere and the more powerful were still slogging it out.

The aftermath was father thinking it a good idea to move, the Froods marching around the street singing 'Easy, Easy' The Colliers boarding up the front of their house and refusing to ever come out again, and the Castles (all mouth no trousers) milking the National Health while they resided in Southend General.

We moved, Castle Point Council found us a nice place in Benfleet in need of a bit of a sprouse up but it was better than nothing. i met the local bullies 20 minutes after arrival. I had just moved from hell to paridise and the local ******** bully tried his luck. It was very one sided. he was a full 4 years older than me and got proper battered. I was a vetran compared to this idiot, and I was only 7.

Fast forward to the present day. On monday I was having a fag and a coffee when the wife phones me. My daughter and her mates were playing in the school field when some older boys, get this boys, started on them. First of all they tried nicking their skipping ropes. My daughters friend who isn't backwards in coming forward told them their fortune. My apple of the eye who can get a little emotional created and got called a cry baby. Boo Hoo, big deal but what has wind me up is the little *******s then started chucking stones at them. I had the snot knocked out of me but never, ever, thought about having a go at girls. Daddy wants to break bones but is holding back and taking a deep breath.

What do I do? Daughter has been told to speak to teacher but nothing is forthcoming. Do I batter the kids, which is probably not the correct route as it's hardly fair considering my size. Do I face out the parents and get satisfaction via that route or do I get annoyed by the school doing nothing then get arrested for battering parents, head teachers and horrible year 4 swines who dare to sling stones at my pride and joy. Advise gratefuly accepted.
 

EastStandBlue

Life President
Joined
May 29, 2005
Messages
15,481
Stern words from an adult can be far more intimidating to young lads... Advise them that, should they throw stones again, it'll end very badly for them.
 
Joined
Feb 17, 2004
Messages
19,752
Location
G69
A very tricky one. That is shocking a group of older boys started on your daughter and her mates. I've learnt the hard way not to go out all guns blazing so maybe some carefully positioned hair bleach on the parents motors might at least take the need for immediate revenge away?

Also, did the Castle's move to Leigh-on-Sea? I seem to remember my parents complaining the selling price of our old house was affected by "that lot moving in" & IIRC it was the Castle family (circa 1984)?
 
Joined
Feb 17, 2004
Messages
19,752
Location
G69
Stern words from an adult can be far more intimidating to young lads... Advise them that, should they throw stones again, it'll end very badly for them.

Problem is though, these days they don't give a flying f**k.
All they need to do is complain to mummy or daddy & say the nasty man swore at them when he was telling them off.

Then the Old Bill will be mob handed around an innocent man's house before you can say "er, officer - it was actually a gang of 10 year old boys who were effing & jeffing at me"
 

osymandus

Life President
Joined
Jan 20, 2007
Messages
5,352
Location
Here there everywhere
Turn their tricks agains them take a mobile phone witha video recorder and catch them throwing things . YOu cnt be done for taking pictires of kids as you just happened to be ther ewith your kids and caught them . Kids get hauled away adults charged as well.
 

jassyfa1

Manager
Joined
May 19, 2008
Messages
1,500
Im in the same situation regarding bullying. My daughter who I have not seen or spoken to for 2-3 years (due to my ex wife) wa srecently beaten up by a gang of youths and then they took pictures of her to show to their mates.
as my daughter speaks to my mum, I was told of this a week or so after the event. the police have caught one of the gang and him and his brother are known to the police but no action will betaken as there are no wtinesses.
Now I want to pay these kids parents a visit as I don't believe in hitting chidren, but i wouldn't hesitate in knocking the crap out of the parents in retaliation for their poor upbringing of their kids
 

steveo

mine to stay the same please
Joined
Aug 30, 2005
Messages
7,545
You cant hit them Harry, at least you cant hit them and get caught. The Courts take a very dim view of fighting these days and you will probably be the one ending up with the criminal record. The Old Bill go after the easy targets which would be you.
I was under the impression that schools take a very hard line on bullying now and while the natural thing for a father to do is to take revenge with your fists, you are probably better off writing to the school and explaining the problem and seeing if they deal with it.

A fathers protective instincts for his kids is powerful but imagine the shame if you were caught beating up youngsters.
 

pickledseal

cowboy
Joined
Dec 6, 2004
Messages
4,933
Location
Upminster
I know from a teachers point of view it is VERY hard to stop bullying, thats why with the best intentions and hard work, it still goes on.

I do beleive that kids need to take some ownership of the situtation... I'm not saying you need to tool up your daughter so she goes in and batters them... but if you can help her deal with the situation herself it will be far more empowering and longer lasting.

Helping to raise kids self confidence and sense of what is right and wrong helps - and I'm not saying you need to directly do this with your daughter - I mean as a school thats what they need to be doing. I have lots of bullying issues with my Y8 form, and one of the ways we deal with it is openly discussing it in the class. I try to develop a sense of shared responsibility. For example, this week some of the other Y8 boys created a Facebook group (a whole new side of bullying that is VERY hard to police) about a boy having a small penis, and an event where they were going to beat him up. A few members of the form had 'accepted' the event, so we discussed how that would make people feel (the boy in question was off as he was so upset), and actually the class ended up having a go (in a controlled, classroom way) at the people that joined, those who did joined apologised to the class, and when the boy returned they literally all welcomed him back with open arms. I'm not saying for one minute I have all the answers, but making kids realise what they are doing is wrong and why is key. Most of the time they just don't think...

Back to your daughter, I think it is important to inform the school, but don't expect a radical, visible solution. Often there are things I just don't know about! Equally for a child, just to tell a teacher really helps. Schools can then build up a picture of who is a bully and who is being picked on and work out ways of dividing to conquor the bullies, helping them to see the error of their ways, or as sometimes happens, being a little more understanding when some one 'let's rip' and punches a bully (again a scenario I had, a boy that I knew was getting some hassle, blew his top and punched a bully in the face... in normal circumstances he would be suspended, but in this case, I took the poor tormented lad and he had a cup of tea and biscuit in the learning support centre - I made it clear that his behaviour was not acceptable, but that I understood why it happened - he didn't get teased again).

Anyway just a few nuggets from me, not an answer I'm afraid, but as said on here, don't lose the plot, be calm and try to work out strategies both with school and your daughter.
 

Hotman

reason, honour, integrity
Joined
Apr 12, 2006
Messages
5,611
Location
Not here
Now bare with me good readers, this is going somewhere but I want to give it some background first. When I was a kid I was bullied, bad. My first taste of it was at the grand old age of 4 years old at nursery school where a phycotic 5 year old used to attack the entire fraturnity. He would rip up drawings and paintings, chuck pastry shape makers at you and try to cut your hair with the round nosed scissors. It only stopped after the mums refused to take their kids in after he attempted stab one child with those scissors in the ear. He ended up being committed at 12 years of age after attacking a class mate with a screwdriver during a woodwork class at King John School around 1980. As far as I'm aware, he is still sectioned.

I grew up on an rough house estate in Thundersley where the order of the day was fight back or be battered. Back then, good parenting meant kicking the kids out of the door after breakfast and not expecting to see them again until lunch or, even better, teatime. One day I got thumped by a lad my own age for something I cannot be bothered to remember but do remember punching him back. Instantly, a pack had gathered baying for blood and the two of us were soon surrounded with the chant of 'fight, fight, fight' ringing in our ears. Both of us were scared but offered a couple of half hearted blows to keep the crowd happy. Suddenly, through the crowd came this lads bigger brother who was much more polished and proceeded to take me to school. Good sence prevailed as I fell to the ground crying my eyes out more frightened than hurt but it stopped the onslaught and let me run off home to mother. I really wanted a bigger brother back then.

That should have been the end of it but no, the next day the lads bigger brother spotted me skulking about and started taunting me, then tripping me as I tried to walk away, then finally giving me a good hiding for the hell of it. I was 5 years old, he was twice my age. As I said, it was kill or be killed in our neighbourhood and telling tales to mum and dad just wasn't the done thing so I put up with it. Being tall for my age probably didn't help but it seemed to give a green light to every budding streetfighter to take a pop at yours truly. Don't get me wrong, I could more than hold my own against kids of my own age but the older bigger kids were taking there toil. My Navy boxing champion, tough as old boots father's attitude was if they whacked you then whack em back which was fine and dandy against my own size but when a kid twice your age decided to loosen up on you the result was never going to be a home win in my favour.

My mum was getting concerned with her off-springs appearance by now. She remembered that she had given birth to a baby boy and not a baby panda because that was what I was beginging to look like. Bruises everywhere, black eyes and fat lips, I looked like a bad sparring partner for Henry Cooper. Finally, after much badgering and removal of any horizontal pleasures, mother got father to take action. And he did. He taught me every dirty trick in the book. Very soon I had lumps 2x2 hidden in hedges and had full permission to snap car arials off for protection if needed. I found out that elbows were not just for leaning on and the meat and two veg was a viable target. The next time I was picked on I put my new found tricks of the trade to the test. Two kids from up the road were at a loose end so decided to come hunting for me for a bit of light relieve. I was kicking a ball up against a wall scoring yet another FA Cup goal when they appeared. We were in a walk through alley, nice and quite and away from prying eyes. I'll be brief but it was carnage. Brother number one took a punt that very nearly put him over an 8ft wall and he will never have children. Brother number two lost his bottle and headed for the hills, with me in hot pursuit. AH HA the worm had turned.

The worm didn't turn as much as I had hoped because two weeks later I was ambushed by the two lads much bigger brother and ended up in hospital. I had my entire quota of brown stuff kicked out of me as well as an fractured jaw, bruised ribs, dislowcated shoulder and a ruptured testicle. I was 6 years old, he was 17. I was told in later years that the shoulder wasn't down to him, made me feel so much better. While I was in hospital, my attacker met with a nasty accident which resulted in him needing a walking stick until his dieing day in 1990 when he died in a head on car crash. He also recieved a dislodged eye socket and a shattered jaw bone. Plastic surgery wasn't very good back then in 1971, he wasn't very pretty after that.

Not long after I was released from hospital I ran into a old foe who fancied another go but decided to bring his 22 year old brother along. This was just too much for daddykins who appeared like the shopkeeper from Mr Benn and proceeded to keep Southend General A&E busy. Someone broke the cardinal rule and called the police. Pater was hauled away, 22 year old hardcase was ambulanced away and mother got away with it by the skin of her teeth because she had my baby sister in her arms. Father returned the next day with venom and revenge in his heart, things were going to change.

It must have been about 1972 when Auntie Puss(Catalina get it?) came to stay. She was mums sister, the future family success story but in those days as green as an oak leaf. She had taken my baby sister out for a walk in her pram but ran into some of the local scumbags who just wanted to start trouble. A high pitched scream alerted mother who charged up the road and waded in like a seasoned pro, myself followed with misguided determination to protect mum. With impeccible timing, the old man was just turning into the street after a hard days work and saw the riot developing. We were close friends with one particular family who had huge numbers while our opponents were equal friends with another mob handed family. It was a proper battle. The old man was going through them like a deranged windmill, mother was no slouch and was flying the flag for Leigh on Sea while I was sent flying by a well aimed right hander into a garden. Our allies (Frood was the name) was taking the battle to our foes (the Colliers and the Castles) and we were making progress. By the time the police turned up there was bodies everywhere and the more powerful were still slogging it out.

The aftermath was father thinking it a good idea to move, the Froods marching around the street singing 'Easy, Easy' The Colliers boarding up the front of their house and refusing to ever come out again, and the Castles (all mouth no trousers) milking the National Health while they resided in Southend General.

We moved, Castle Point Council found us a nice place in Benfleet in need of a bit of a sprouse up but it was better than nothing. i met the local bullies 20 minutes after arrival. I had just moved from hell to paridise and the local ******** bully tried his luck. It was very one sided. he was a full 4 years older than me and got proper battered. I was a vetran compared to this idiot, and I was only 7.

Fast forward to the present day. On monday I was having a fag and a coffee when the wife phones me. My daughter and her mates were playing in the school field when some older boys, get this boys, started on them. First of all they tried nicking their skipping ropes. My daughters friend who isn't backwards in coming forward told them their fortune. My apple of the eye who can get a little emotional created and got called a cry baby. Boo Hoo, big deal but what has wind me up is the little *******s then started chucking stones at them. I had the snot knocked out of me but never, ever, thought about having a go at girls. Daddy wants to break bones but is holding back and taking a deep breath.

What do I do? Daughter has been told to speak to teacher but nothing is forthcoming. Do I batter the kids, which is probably not the correct route as it's hardly fair considering my size. Do I face out the parents and get satisfaction via that route or do I get annoyed by the school doing nothing then get arrested for battering parents, head teachers and horrible year 4 swines who dare to sling stones at my pride and joy. Advise gratefuly accepted.

Great writing again GHG.

When I was a little ****, I remember someones dad threatening to kneecap me if he saw me down that road again, which did the job for a year or so. It's all about how convincingly you can put it across, as no matter how much you want to, you can't give them a slap.
 
Joined
Jul 12, 2005
Messages
22,733
Location
Canvey Island
Great writing again GHG.

When I was a little ****, I remember someones dad threatening to kneecap me if he saw me down that road again, which did the job for a year or so. It's all about how convincingly you can put it across, as no matter how much you want to, you can't give them a slap.

In my day intimidation went a long way, I'm not so sure how well it goes down with todays youth, however you're a big bloke Al and you I am sure could scare the living crap out of them with a quiet but non threatening word.

Great read BTW, I assume you lived in either Queensmere or Kingsmere, I remember the Froods very well and was good mates with Peter Frood back in the day. I also remember the Castle family, plus the Stones, Dave "Jed" Stone killed a bloke at a bus stop in Thundersley and got life. He was in The Woodmans the night he did it, saying he'd got a shooter and was going to kill this bloke (Frost I think his name was). The next morning it was the main news on a radio broadcast, I remember going cold at thought and was as sick as a dog. He escaped a couple of times and I believe he's still on the run now. And Thundersley seemed such a nice quiet place.
 
Last edited:

GBJ

The Font of all Knowledge from Russia⭐
Staff member
Joined
Nov 2, 2008
Messages
12,258
Location
Grays
I agree, actually giving them a slap yourself will lead to all kinds of ****** repercussions.

I'd get one of my aquaintences to do the deed, for a small cash sum.
 

EastStandBlue

Life President
Joined
May 29, 2005
Messages
15,481
Problem is though, these days they don't give a flying f**k.
All they need to do is complain to mummy or daddy & say the nasty man swore at them when he was telling them off.

Then the Old Bill will be mob handed around an innocent man's house before you can say "er, officer - it was actually a gang of 10 year old boys who were effing & jeffing at me"

That might be the case for kids around 14-16, who generally are a bunch of mouthy little *****, but these are Year 4? Which puts them around 7/8 if I remember.

They go to their parents? What are they going to say? "That man shouted at us!" And why did he do that? "Because we threw rocks at his daughter"
 

Benfleet A1

Hector Of The House
Joined
Jan 19, 2007
Messages
8,339
Location
Slade Prison
Great read BTW, I assume you lived in either Queensmere or Kingsmere, I remember the Froods very well and was good mates with Peter Frood back in the day. I also remember the Castle family, plus the Stones, Dave "Jed" Stone killed a bloke at a bus stop in Thundersley and got life. He was in The Woodmans the night he did it, saying he'd got a shooter and was going to kill this bloke (Frost I think his name was). The next morning it was the main news on a radio broadcast, I remember going cold at thought and was as sick as a dog. He escaped a couple of times and I believe he's still on the run now. And Thundersley seemed such a nice quiet place.

Woodburn Close and this is getting spooky now. David Stones dad was Albert who was my dads best mate. He is still on the run but closer than you think. Where were you from then, its like having a stalker.

**Looks up and down the road through the net cutains**
 
Joined
Jul 12, 2005
Messages
22,733
Location
Canvey Island
Woodburn Close and this is getting spooky now. David Stones dad was Albert who was my dads best mate. He is still on the run but closer than you think. Where were you from then, its like having a stalker.

**Looks up and down the road through the net cutains**

Not stalking you mate.
I lived on Hart Road and went to Thundersley Juniors & KJS, the Froods, Stones, Giles & Doolands all went there. The Doolands lived on Common Lane and the mother was a formidable lady who had one eye, the missing one was an empty socket and she was seriously scary. IIRC Peter Frood was a year younger than me but I was in the same class as Christine Stone both a Thundersley & KJS.

I wouldn't be surprised if Jed is close to home, I think when he was caught the first time he was nearby, although my memory may be playing tricks there.
 

Cricko

Zone Owner ⭐
Staff member
Joined
Oct 25, 2006
Messages
31,893
Location
Leigh-On-Sea
Small world I lived in Thundersley at a very early age in The Dale..I went to Dark Lane school, I think that is what it was called along Hart Road anyway....I remember this old bloke he was about 50 then and was always hanging about at the school gates...I heard he now lives on Canvey and goes by the name of Harry.
 

Crawliano

LADYCHARMER80
Joined
Aug 18, 2008
Messages
2,609
Location
Benfleet
What a crap situation, I remember once having to have a few words with a little jumpstart who decided to dropkick my sister in a drama lesson at school. The satisfaction in seeing him crying like a little schoolgirl when getting one of the girls in my class to get him in our form room then shutting the door in him to me and my mates was amazing, he left the form room and went straight to my sister and apologised and she never heard a peep from him again.

Sometimes it's the fear rather than the actual beating that helps, teachers do ****, they can't put a safety blanket round you once you leave the house...
 
Joined
Feb 17, 2004
Messages
19,752
Location
G69
That might be the case for kids around 14-16, who generally are a bunch of mouthy little *****, but these are Year 4? Which puts them around 7/8 if I remember.

They go to their parents? What are they going to say? "That man shouted at us!" And why did he do that? "Because we threw rocks at his daughter"

I was talking about 7 or 8 year olds though. Where I currently live, this age group are the worst problem & know that they can pretty much get up to anything in terms of abuse, vandalism & criminal damage and not face up to any repurcussions.

Autumn 2008, we had ongoing issues with them damaging our property so one day my Mrs goes out to tell them to move along. She gets a tirade of swearing so I decide to get involved and basically said "you tell my wife to f**k off, then I'll just have to make you f**k off" - OK it was a heat of the moment thing but lo & behold next night at 5pm, a knock on the door and 2 of the most arrogant, petty policeman you could imagine turn up demanding to know why I am terorrising "innocent young children" as there had been a complaint from one set of parents. I was so riled I basically refused to speak to them so after getting the full story of my wife, they did agree they would relay the other side of the story but you could see they were really reluctant to (especially one of them who was bordering on racism he was so anti-English). As said before, the police just want to go for the easy target. The next day the kids were back & if I hadn't been in our garage, who knows what damage they would have caused - I overheard them planning to jump on the bonnet of our car and run over the roof of it. For some reason muttering "grass" under my breath sent them packing (making sure I didn't swear, obviously).

'm still eager to find out exactly which family it was who felt it necessary to call the police but I've got a good idea as one evening a few months later I was out with my daughter and heard some indiscrimate abuse and swearing volleyed in my direction from a 30something neanderthal - thankfully I don't speak "Caveman Weegie" so I didn't get the full jist of what he said but I'm pretty sure an element of it was "don't call my boy a grass"

Touch wood, the 14-16 year olds where we live all seem fairly normal and don't really want to hang out the locality or cause trouble.

We were saying the other day when the time comes to sell the house, we'll have to get the Estate Agents to do showings 10am-3pm to try & avoid any potential buyer being put off by their "antics"...
 

Thorpe Groyney

Open your mind
Joined
Nov 20, 2008
Messages
2,389
Location
Surely it's plain to see?
I had to deal with a bullying problem. My lad can take care of himself, he even told me wasn't frightened of this particular bully, but simply wasn't interested in fighting and as a consequence was being confronted every day at school.

I took it upon myself to speak to the other kid's father in private. His immediate response was to put his head next to mine and ask "So what you going to do about it then?". It was obvious where the bully was getting his ideas from.

My solution wasn't something to be proud of. I butted him the instant he asked that question then tried to strangle him once I saw the blood flow and him start to back off. I then told him to get his lad to stay away or I'd finish what I'd started. Or words to that effect. It was a particularly unsavoury incident. My lad, though, was never ever bothered after that, nor was any other kid from this bully.

It's funny about what happens to you when your children are involved. Everyone who knows me could vouch that I'm a placid, easy going soul who wouldn't harm a fly. When your kids are being hurt, or are in danger, or need protection, however, the red mist descends. It's frightening the change that can come over you.

My advice would be to back off from what I did though. It got the desired result but at the unwelcome price of knowing that in certain situations I'm as thuiggish as anyone else. If the school won't do anything report it to the police. Neither the school nor the bullies parents would want such intervention, so if they know you're prepared to go that far, they will try to put a stop to it themselves.
 

* ORM *

Emma Bunton's No. 1 stalker, Adam Barretts No. 1 f
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17,705
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Flying the flag for SUFC in Sai Kung, Hong Kong
While I was in hospital, my attacker met with a nasty accident which resulted in him needing a walking stick until his dieing day in 1990 when he died in a head on car crash. He also recieved a dislodged eye socket and a shattered jaw bone. Plastic surgery wasn't very good back then in 1971, he wasn't very pretty after that.
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Sorry but if you're dead does a dislodged eye socket and dodgy jaw really matter that much :p (sorry couldn't resist).

I was never a big fan of my Dad's solution which was to hit them twice as hard. I learned to become a good runner back in those days
 

Ulysses

Manager
Joined
Sep 21, 2005
Messages
1,540
Harry go around their parents house with about 2 or 3 big mates and tell them what happened and if it happens again you'll go to the police! Trust me this will work, your mates will just be in the back ground for support. The school will do **** all but be aware they probably have a grievance procedure
 
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