Jump to content

Fighting Magic?


Atehequa

Recommended Posts

 

Having grown up down on the lower peninsula through the last of the 50s, and all through the 60s and 70s, I spent my childhood, teenage years and early adulthood with some rather interesting friends and acquaintances. A lot of them were the children of shipyard workers, NASA employees and military fathers, a few like my friend Lowell were of old English-American families that had been in the area since the 17th century. Once quite prosperous, many of them were left living in poverty right after the Civil War. 

 

In our small neck of the woods, a semi-rural area bordering York County and the City of Hampton, near where the first major land battle of the Civil War was fought(Big Bethel), we were brought up mainly in a white Christian middle working class neighborhood. In fact, aside from the mixed Filipino and Japanese families with military fathers, another Indian family(Meskwaki) like mine along with some old Black sharecroppers, everyone else was white. This was Virginia during and right after segregation. Around my way we were not what could be called rednecks, but in the more upscale neighborhoods like Denbigh, they referred to us as grits. A month couldn't pass without someone getting in a fight, usually with fellows from other neighborhoods, but occasionally among ourselves. Some of us more than others. Although I had been in a good several, there were those who seemed to live for it. The bad asses so to speak. In the late 60s through the early 70s the fighting tapered off a lot due to the introduction of drugs and Rock-n-Roll. Most of the girls influenced by the peace-love hippy movement preferred hanging out with the non-violent types, so us fellows took on a thin veneer of this culture along with the long hair, attire and other such trappings. Even guys like Lowell, the grittiest of grits, grew his hair long and took up guitar lessons, because it was the musicians who got all the chicks. He learned how to play a left handed Fender as well as Jimi Hendrix. I think he got a lot of aggression out that way.  Still sometimes when it was just us guys together, especially when drinking a scuffle would occasional take place. Yet most of that time we spent a lot of our free time, in a drug addled daze. Weed, hashish, acid, uppers, downers, inbetweeners and occasionally booze. It was the culture and just about everyone indulged in it.

 

Then came the mid 70s, by then cocaine had burst upon the scene, and many of us were going to bars. Many of the young fellows were fully embracing the southern rock culture which more or less allowed them to 'grit it up' once again, by that time many of us who just used to do drugs were selling them. Gone were the bell bottoms and other such flowery garb, now it was straight leg jeans, black Tshirts and Stetson hats, of course long hair was still in, but for many the hippy veneer shed away like molted skin. Most of us had taken to carrying pistols and knives. Often times fist fights led into gun play. People got shot and sometimes killed. Lowell fully embraced this new culture with great gusto and he fought often. The weirdest thing was how when he got around me, I could feel my hackles rise and I noticed a complete change in his demeanor. I would usually try to avoid him. If he happened to be in a bar I walked into, I'd drink one and get the hell out, because otherwise mayhem would surely follow. Standing only 5'7", he was like a wolverine. Often Lowell would start a fight with the biggest guy in the bar and usually within a minute's time, beat him into a bloody pulp. Once he took on three strapping Fort Eustis soldiers at a go go bar and had them laid out on the floor in a very short time. "Hey Lowell, need some help?" one of us asked. 

 

"No, no! I love it!" he shouted back while knocking them silly with that devastating left hook of his. One night while we were sharing a joint at a music festival, I inquired why he had to fight so much and how he was able to win through against overwhelming odds. Lowell replied "Fighting magic, man." then went on to explain about his fighting Welsh forefathers who had been fighting in Virginia since 1622 and before that in Europe Lowell's father had been a decorated Marine in World War Two, and it was him he said "Passed down the old fighting magic." I believed him, because on those rare occasions I happened to be in the same bar when he fought, the room seemed charged with a strange energy. It was almost surreal. He also told us of what I know now to be taboos. One was never strike a woman, another was never drink on a Wednesday, and the third was never strike someone who didn't fight back. In the year 1978, Lowell broke all these taboos in one week. While drinking in some dive on a Wednesday night he back handed a drunk woman off her stool for attempting to steal some of his money on the bar, then that weekend he badly beat a fellow who accidentally spilled beer on him. Lowell put this fellow in the hospital.(broken jaw, nose and a couple of teeth knocked out)

 

About six months went by and the fellow Lowell beat badly managed to feign friendship with him. To look at them back them one would of thought they were the best of pals. Then came that day they went target shooting with their pistols out in the woods. The story was that an extremely drunk Lowell stumbled in front of the fellow right when he took a shot at an empty whisky bottle. Lowell was shot dead through his heart. The other guy got off with involuntary manslaughter and probation. 

 

I know among the American Indian tribes there was such 'war medicine' and conditional taboos, but never heard of this type of 'fighting magic' of the Welsh. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I don't know about Welsh fighting magic but my Grandmother sure could wield a broomstick like a staff LOL (and then in later years it was her cane). 

 

There's different magics that are passed down through families.  Whether it's cultural or family specific.  Was your friend very proud of the culture he hailed from?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, this place sure hasn't changed much. I knew a lot of guys just like that. None of them ever talked to me about war magic, but then why would they talk to me about it. I always just figured they were too nuts to stay down. Good times...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

thats really interesting! that fellow sounds a bit like my brother, small but tank-like, fearless and needlessly aggressive. He thrives on that energy he can incite in people and doesnt seem to have a pain threshold. We grew up fighting everyday as kids, in a way that enemies would, not siblings. I have the same pain tolerance as a result but I avoid getting into fights these days, whereas he goes looking or at least likes to get people riled up. Funny thing is that he has "taboos" about it too, but I never thought of it that way. He likes to get hit first a few times before he starts in, he'll just take hits to the face and not change his facial expression and keeps talking shit! its insane to see.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 4 weeks later...

Took me a long time to think of anything of relevance to this....I've read and heard of spells that supposedly hurt someone if they hit you, as well as 'invulnerability' spells.  I've not used them...thought about it.  Should try it and see how this works and if I can pull it off.  

 

LOL Someone threatened to punch me in the face the other night.  I pointed at him and said, "You wouldn't fucking dare! I don't need to hit you to hurt your ass!"  Does that count?  Hahahaha.  Yeah, he didn't touch me, eejit that he is.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

×
×
  • Create New...