John Doe

Hale

English 1301

Remembered Event

September 23, 1991

                         Skinhead 

      As I write to you about violence in my life, I cringe and feel empty inside.  I think back to one year ago.  A couple of school friends and I went to celebrate our senior year in high school.  My friend Clint suggested that we go to a place called the Gold Mine in the French Quarter.  Four other guys; Kevin, Jay, Patrick, and Chris all agreed that it was an excellent idea. 

     In the car everyone was talking about how they were going to get all of the babes in the Gold Mine.  I knew that once we started talking about girls my friend Patrick would be made fun of.  Bill had lost his girlfriend to another kid in our neighborhood that we all were not on good terms with.  I can still remember Chris saying, "Hey Pat, I think you have no problem picking up someone its just keeping them that screws you up".

     Chris had been considered a hero by our group because he managed to pull in some interesting girls.  One night he was even talking to the Hawaiian Tropic lady who had been on vacation in New Orleans.  Chris would always be willing to approach any girl.  We all thought it must have been his looks because it was definitely not his brain.  In Six Flags he was lost so he went to the lost and found thinking we would go looking for him there.

     Clint had left a girlfriend behind and decided that he would remain faithful to her.  Clint was truly one of the only people I knew would like someone enough not to cheat on her.

     Hector was a nice guy who we all adopted into our little family.  He didn't talk very much but when he did we all listened to him.  Jay was so shy that we all had to practically drag him in to the bar.  Jay would never even think of approaching a girl and talking to her.  Considering all of these things we still boasted of how we would bring in the ladies.

     After we parked the orange bomb that Hector called a car, we proceeded to the Gold Mine.  We entered the Mine with no problems and I looked up the guy playing the music.  I asked him to play some songs that I thought would get things fired up.  Then I bought a couple of shots.  As I felt the Jagermeister numbing my throat, I took a look around.  A couple of pool tables next to a wooden floor had people slamming into one another.  A bar that had no seats available had stretched the whole place.  The Mine had a wooden wheel with a plastic arrow on it.  When the bartender would spin the wheel, it would say things like quarter draft, dollar shot, free mixed drink, or three dollar pitcher.

     As Jay, Chris and I sat down drinking our dollar shots, we noticed about 10 people known as skinheads.  All of these Skinheads were no good.  They were mean, had shaved heads and wore army boots all the time.  All of these skinheads loved to start trouble, preach the word of Hitler, and show how they felt about blacks through violence.  Instantly, they started picking on a couple of black guys who were doing nothing but drinking their dollar shots.  I saw the two black men leave the bar to avoid trouble from the skinheads.  The skinheads waited for a while inside the bar but then left.  I knew in my heart that I should have said something to the cop outside but I didn't.  I just knew that there was going to be big trouble.  I kept drinking and even participated in a little slam-dancing with my friends. 

     When it was about time to leave I had forgotten all about the skinheads.  I left the Gold Mine and right down the street was the most terrifying thing imaginable.  Surrounding Hector's orange car was five cops.  There was one arrested skinhead in the back of a police car not cooperating with his right to remain silent.  On the hood of the car was two smashed black guys who both appeared to be dead.  They were completely covered in drying blood.  I was crushed to see the two men with bashed in faces and ripped clothes.  I would imagine that every bone in their bodies was broken.  I went pale as the paramedics told the cops that they wouldn't make it.  As they were taken off in the ambulance, I felt as if it were my fault.  As if I completely pulverized those two men who were drinking dollar shots a short while before their death.  It was the most violent night in my life.  Not because of what I did but of what I could have done.