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Dare Dunning, on his childhood

The name is Dunning. Dare Dunning. I was given an assignment to elaborate on a few details of my sordid past. A few petty details, and the other rather life shaping. I'll begin by saying that all of this is from memory, and while I'd like to think I have a good memory...Sometimes the things I remember get fogged up in the back of my mind. And try as I might, I can't dredge them up in their entirety. Forgive my humanness.

I was six years old. Being a child slight in size, I never took part much in the rough house games that my brothers (two of them) played with the neighbor kids. When I did, I tended to get stomped on and clobbered. Unpleasant experience, I assure you. So I often took to myself on afternoons. My family, the Dunnings, lived just on the outskirts of a town in Pennsylvania called York. A modest town with it's claims to fame such as the first capitol of the United states, and a quaint two story building where some of Our founding fathers got together and yelled at each other and patted each other on the back and signed important papers with large feather pens. The building is a museum now...that's how I know these things.

Living in the semi-country semi-city as we did, I feel that I grew up in the best of both worlds. The school house was on our side of town, and wasn't a dreadful long walk, and yet a stones throw away you could find pastures and forests on the rolling hills that abound in south Pennsylvania. And not too far to the west, about an hours ride, there was some great skiing slopes. I had my first kiss on a ride home from Ski Round Top. But that is neither here nor there.

Being alone to myself often, I had a few quiet hobbies. I grew out of them when I hit a growth spurt and could join the older kids...but at the age of six I loved fishing. There was a pond close to the School house. In the same pasture that we played in during recess, actually. And one may morning, it was unusually warm. So during recess, more then a few of the kids took to wading. I had a fishing pole stashed beneath a rotting log by the pond, and would go there every other day or so to be by myself, out of everyone's way. But this day, practically the whole school was over there. The pond was fair sized, but really...get 30 kids wading on the banks and you've got yourself a rowdy mess. Made me kinda mad, cause Barry Johnson kept throwing stones right where I had my lure and was scaring the fish away. Then Timothy...I forget his last name. Anyway, then he came over and he and Barry started teasing me. Pathetic to tease a six year old..they were eight. So I Yelled back at them and called them every name I'd ever heard my brothers use and I called Barry a flat out Dumbohead. (scathing, I know.) That, and a few other things, made him so hopping mad he came right up to me and decked me straight in the nose. it wouldn't have been so bad if it had been a kid my age. I mean, even for being a little tyke, I could pull a decent punch when I needed to. But I was way outnumbered and outsized. Being on the other side of the pond, no one had noticed the yelling too much till Timothy started yelling something about blood. I didn't hear it...This is all second hand information. It seems Barry hit me so hard I was knocked senseless for a few seconds. just long enough for my head to have hit the water, and for me to get a few lungfuls. That did it. Hysteria broke out, and little girls were screaming something about blood, and somebody ran to get the teacher and my mother (who sometimes brought us lunch when we had forgotten it on the counter at home, and then she would sit and talk with the teacher for a few minutes.) And by that time, my brother Dane had reached us. He swooped me out of the water, (he was a big lad. ten years older then myself, and at school against his will.) And threw me on the ground. I think he may have been panicking himself, which is something I wish I had been able to see.

Then my mother arrived with the teacher, and they started yelling too, shouting at people to get out of the way, and demanding what happened, and my mother instructed Dane to hoist me up by the legs. I have no idea where she got the idea...I guess she figured what goes down must come up...via down. Or something. So there I was, dangling by my feet, a scrawny kid, my britches falling down..or up...and dripping water like a fish. I didn't come to till my mother started hauling off and whacking me in the back. Water came out just about every opening in my body, and I made some odd gurgling sounds that I meant to be a scream of fury, but sounded like I was talking with my mouth full of water. Which I was.

I got to go home early that day. If anything good came of the incident, it was that I missed half a day of school with my parents blessing. And the fact that I didn't get in trouble for expanding my vocabulary, and I scared Marla Hopkins so bad she peed her pants. Whoo! That was worth it! Barry also got in some serious trouble. I don't know if Timothy was ever indicted, but Barry was grounded from recess for the rest of the school year, and then had to help his dad in their family's shop all summer. Just cause he almost killed me.

Yeah, it was worth it.

The intervening years between this and the next incident I'm about to relate, are relatively uneventful. Comprised of me hitting a growth spurt, playing a lot of Hooky, hanging out with some rowdy boys, discovering that Girls were something other then an annoyance, and trying unsuccessfully to stay out of trouble at home. Normal guy things, ya know?

It was an October Morning. We were experiencing a delightful Indian summer, and who could stand to be indoors reading a book when nature was so enticing? Certainly not me. And so I ditched school as I was so fond of doing, and headed over to old McPherson well house. The McPherson's were long gone, moved out west to Ohio eons before. And for some reason, they hadn't sold their property. So there it sat, the empty house, and all manner of weeds and vines growing everywhere, and the orchard was so over grown that it was the perfect hiding place for, well...anything. And I mean anything. This orchard had a well house somewhere near the front. A small outbuilding, maybe 10x10. On the outside it looked like a little rundown shack. But on the inside were the wonders of the world. You opened the door, and some moron had removed the steps down to the landing, so there was a two foot drop off first thing. If you didn't know about it, you could get mighty hurt. Then there was the landing...it had a set of steps off to the side, and after descending those you came to a cool concrete floor that sloped ever so slightly toward the far right corner. In that corner was the well. All along the walls of the well house, were shelves reaching up to the ceiling, a good 15 feet. I heard it was old Mrs.. McPherson's outrageous dairy supply that produced this curious building. I think it was someone with a wicked sense of humor.

This well house was the gathering place of all the boys on afternoons when we were up to no good, and on mornings when we were...up to no good. Every day you might find at least three of us guys down there. On a good day, there might have been ten or twelve. This particular morning, there were seven of us. Myself, Robby Gardener, Joel Macruthers and Lionel Jones are the only ones I remember distinctly. I think Billy Farlin might have been there too. When we were older, we'd sneak out there with a pretty girl on warm evenings under the pretense that "the wellhouse was cool and refreshing. Well yes, it's a little scary, but I'll be there with you. Nothing will happen, Promise." I discovered a whole lot in that wellhouse over the years.

But not at the tender age of 13. I was still quite content to be with the guys planning macho things and making up all sorts of mischief. On this day, the game of the hour was dare. Not an inflection on my name, by the way.

We were making up all sorts of hilarious stunts to pull, each one more daring then the next. Just who was man enough to do "this" or "that." We found out pretty quick who the sissies were. Billy and Lionel got practically kicked out of the well house gang when they failed to accomplish their respective dares. I'd been pretty loudmouth myself about the whole thing. Joel started noticing my vocalness and decided it was time I made a man of myself. He said something about "All show and no go" and I told him I wasn't chicken. That was all he needed. I think he must have been saving this dare up for me...plotting and scheming the best one for a prime candidate. He said "I dare you to climb up to the clock tower on the bank."

"The bank?! That's downtown! We'd get caught!"

"So? and besides, you could climb on the south side, which is an ally that no one uses anyway. And it's got all that hedge at the bottom, so it'd hide the rest of us pretty well."

"Well...I dunno.."

"What, are you chicken? I TRIPLE-DOG-DARE you. If you don't do it we'll all know your a sissy."

"Of course I'm not a sissy. Lets go."

And so we did. Off we went, sneaking out of the McPherson's orchard, and heading down the road towards the middle of town. You could see the clock tower all the way from where we were, and I started to get sweaty palms. It was pretty high. We went around the back way cause we'd have to pass the schoolhouse, and of course we had to figure out a way to one by one get to the ally behind the bank on Main street, without getting any notice. I went first, and managed to wind my way undetected to the hedge row behind the bank. The time between me getting there, and the last of us seven arriving, gave me enough time to study my job at hand. The vines on the building were starting to loose their leaves, being the middle of fall, and I could see where the strong branches were. the problem was, the vines only went to about the middle of the second story. Then they started getting weak, and dissipating. I'd have to find ledges in the bricks for toe holds and such for a few feet before I'd reach the balcony on the third floor. From there I could climb onto the banister and pull myself up by the decorative ironwork around the top of the roof. Then it'd be a short dash up the shingled roof and I'd reach the clock tower. I was really glad Joel hadn't dared something like climbing the clock tower itself...spire and all. I'd probably have cried uncle and ran away had he pulled a stunt like that. I may have been stupid, but I wasn't crazy.

"K, we're all here. Lets see it Dare." Joel said. I was beginning to hate him by now.

I took off my socks and shoes, and found a good spot to start climbing. Robby was kind enough to give me a boost to the ideal spot for this sort of thing. I felt around with my feet for a good place to rest my weight, and then reached up for a higher branch. Climbing at a moderate pace at first, I got to the second story in less then a minute. Then I had to slow down and take my time. The branches started weakening and I had to search for strong ones. I realized they weren't as strong as they'd seemed from the ground. This was going to be a problem. I got to the second story window level when it happened. I grabbed a branch that was risky. I just about stopped and started back down cause I knew I just couldn't do it. But then I looked down and could see the boys watching me from below, and I made up my mind to go all the way even if it killed me. As I pulled myself up on this shaky branch, it suddenly snapped. I was shocked for a split second, and tried to grab something as I fell, but then I hit the hedge ten feet below, and the wind was knocked out of me. and I hurt. but I couldn't breath, so I couldn't yell or scream, and I was going to kill those boys if one of them didn't run for help fast. My side hurt so bad.

Turns out, it was Robby, (I always did like that kid.) who ran for help. A police man arrived who was so stern I didn't know if that alone should make me cry, and a few of the bank tellers who helped the Police man get me from my entanglement in the bushes. They'd broken my fall, but not by much. Then a doctor arrived, and had me all laid out on the ground. I asked him if I was hurt bad and he said he didn't know. Joel who was stupid enough to still be hanging around, asked him if I was gonna die, and the Doctor almost laughed. That made me a little relieved. Somebody found my socks and shoes, and the Doctor and the Police man carried me over to the Dr.'s office where he bound my chest up real tight. He was cleaning up my scrapes, and putting a splint on my wrist when my Father came in. His look alone scared me to kingdom come. I knew I was in for it.

He didn't say much. The Doctor told him I had a few broken ribs, a sprained wrist and some abrasions