Conrad and the Ink Well (Cont.)
Screen 4 of 4Not at all sure what I should do, I told the girl that I was busy "with my classes" and that if the man wanted to see me he should come directly to the classroom. Again, I was trying valiantly to be cool and nonchalant, but it's hard to fool children. They knew I was just plain scared. The girl said she would tell him, but I noticed she raised her eyebrows in a skeptical look at all of us, as she left.
In a very few minutes, she returned with the message, "He said he warn't comin' into no schoolroom an' that you better come out front." Then the messenger added with not too subtle glee, "The principal says it's all right for you to leave the classroom." Both the girl and the principal must have sensed that the stage was being set for something very interesting. It was almost as if someone was announcing over a loud speaker, "and in this corner we have Chester Travelstead at 130 pounds, in light brown trousers."
I had no choice but to go, even though I did not want to make a scene or cause trouble. Certainly, I was not ready for a fight. I was not prepared physically, by inclination, or by experience. But I went, nevertheless, telling the children to remain in the room and study their assignments for the next day.
As I walked slowly through the long narrow hall toward the front of the building, I wondered why I had left New York just a month before." Ushering in a movie theatre suddenly became very attractive to me.
Stepping just outside the front door, I could see a man standing on the sidewalk ten or fifteen feet beyond the steps. He was not a large man, but obviously a resolute and determined one with his feet set wide apart and his fisted hands resting on his hips. I saw no gun. That was a relief. My first impression was that his tough and wiry frame would have balanced the scales at about 165 pounds--not a heavyweight but still considerably bigger than I was.
He stood perfectly still and said nothing at first, but his intent gaze at me seemed to be missing nothing. Standing close behind him was Conrad. I just caught a glimpse of the boy as he leaned quickly to one side to get a look at me. I could not tell if he was smiling about his current advantage, but I was sure he must be deriving great satisfaction from the situation.
After a moment of utter silence--it seemed much longer to me--Mr. Binford frowned and asked, "Are you Conrad's teacher?"
"Yes I am. Are you his father?" I replied. He seemed irritated by this question.
"Of course I am: Why do you think I'm here?" Neither of us moved. Even Conrad was immobile, apparently secure in his position.
Then Mr. Binford blurted out, "Is it true yuh hit muh boy?" There was only one answer to this question.
"Yes I did, Mr. Binford. I slapped him because he did what positively I told him not to do. Three times this morning he disobeyed me."
"Why did yuh hit 'im on the head?" he continued in a surly manner. "Don'chuh know the Lord gave us a place tuh hit chillun on--"the bottom"--don'chuh know that?"
The situation was tense. Anything could have happened. I knew that. But fortunately I smiled and said in quick response, "Yes I know that, Mr. Binford, but I just didn't have time to get to that place:"
Again dead silence. Then the tough moonshiner began to relax--just slightly. A faint smile on his face gradually broadened into a grin. My unrehearsed and perhaps unexpected response to his serious question must have relieved the tension. He then astounded me and I'm sure surprised all the others watching and listening to this strange scene when he calmly stated in an almost matter-of-fact tone, "Well, I wan' my boys tuh behave in school. If you can' make 'em do that, you ain' fit tuh be a teacher. But I don' wanchoo hitt'n 'em on the head. Do you unnerstan' that? That's all I gotta say."
Turning around to Conrad, he said simply, "Git back in school." Then to me over his shoulder as he walked away slowly, I heard him say, "I'll be seein' yuh aroun', Mr. Travel."
I think I did say, "Goodbye, Mr. Binford," but I doubt if he heard me. I was still somewhat in shock, and anyway I think by that time he had his mind on other things.
As I look back now--many years later--on my meeting with Mr. Binford, I realize I am indebted to this southern Virginia moonshiner and alleged killer. For not once since that event took place have I ever struck a child on the head. I have spanked one or two since then but without much force and of course only "on the bottom."
Mr. Binford did indeed teach me a lesson, one I needed to learn.
Chester C. Travelstead
August 6, 1979
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