Caussey's Corner

Billy, the Boy Who Loved Pigeons: A Tragic Texas Tale

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The neighborhood was so bad that during the spring the city established a temporary morgue, because there were so many deaths that the downtown morgue would be full. It was located across from the school. I averaged confiscating a couple of guns a month from the students, plus a whole host of other weapons.

The third year I rarely left the school unless for a discipline hearing, court, or funeral. One day I had an infected tooth. There was a school board member who was a pharmacist. I called him, and he called a dentist for me to see. My right eye was so swollen I could not see. Two hours later I returned to the school. My face was so distorted the kids were frightened. Yet I still performed after school bus duty. I got a written reprimand from the principal for taking school time for personal business.

The next morning Billy was waiting for me in my office for fighting. I asked him why he was always fighting. “Because nobody likes me,” he said. I placed him in his little room and gave him some work to do. “Thanks, Mr. Caussey. I feel safe in here with you,” he said.

Billy was seeing the counselor every day now. We could not get his parents to come to the school. When I suspended him, I always drove him home. He lived in a terrible shack with a caved-in front porch and broken windows. We got his parents food assistance from the Baptist Church, and the Salvation Army was paying utilities. One day I took Billy home. “Mr. Caussey, could you come around back? I want to show you something,” he asked.

“Billy, I am sorry, I don’t have the time,” I replied. “I need to get back.”

“Please, Mr. Caussey. I want to show you my friends.”

Billy, the Boy Who Loved Pigeons: A Tragic Texas Tale
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