Death of a Bully

I found out after the fact that my bully from grade school died. He was not well liked by most people, if I remember correctly, but I was surprised at the outpouring of emotion online when his death was announced. A lot of years have passed in the interim and in hindsight, I suspect there were other factors at play. Perhaps he’d changed. Perhaps he didn’t grow up to be the insolent prick I knew him as. But that doesn’t change my feelings. His treatment of me (and others) affected my self-esteem for years.

I have to remind myself to be nicer to people – lest I am remembered the same way.

I’ve redacted a lot of this post to protect identities.


NAME REDACTED 1969 – 2016

REDACTED Age 47. Beloved son of REDACTED and the late REDACTED. Dearest brother of REDACTED and the late REDACTED. Uncle of 6, cousin and friend of many. A memorial service will be held on Thursday December 29, 2016 at 7:00 PM. Final resting place REDACTED. PLEASE NO FLOWERS. The family will receive friends from 5 – 7 PM at REDACTED FUNERAL HOME

Redacted copy of obituary announcement

A friend from grade school just posted this on Facebook. I confirmed the link on cleveland.com.

What can I say? He was a dick. He single-handedly stripped me of my self-esteem and constantly picked on me. From grades 5 through 8 I never knew if he was going to be a friend or an enemy. Would he leave me alone today or trip me for no reason on the playground?

At one point in seventh grade he had to give some kind of a speech and mentioned something in the speech about having feelings and the class broke up laughing. The teacher scolded us but we all knew he was full of shit. I feel like he might have been trying to show some of the pain he must have been going through – but it was too late. He had bullied and treated too many of us badly. There would be no sympathy.

After high school I ran into him once at the Rampant Lion in Berea. I thought we could put all the crap behind us and just be civil, but instead he bragged about how he’d already been in jail (before age 21) and called me a big pussy for living such a squeaky-clean life.

Fuck him.

It’s sad to think someone my age has died. At 47, it couldn’t have been from natural causes.

But while trying to dredge up some sympathy for him, I find myself lacking.

Rest in Peace, you asshole.

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