Ole Duggan

It was a hot, summer day when they found ole Duggan. Two teen aged boys went down to the ole mill creek to fish. They found him there on top of one of the rock pylons. Noticeable as a redheaded peckerwood, nekked as a jaybird and dead as a roadkill possum. Looked like somebody had bashed his wicked head in. They left him out in the open where he'd be sure to be found. It won't no tragedy, most folks figured Ole Duggan had it comin for a long time before he got it.

Duggan seemed a kindly old man with gray hair and whiskers. Every Sunday mornin you'd find him in church, fourth row from the front, dressed in his brown, tweed suit with the frayed elbows. He was always friendly to children and usually had a piece of hard candy to offer 'em. Just a kindly ole soul who wouldn't hurt a flea.

Ole Duggan lived in a little cottage near the elementary school. That shack was probably older than him. For as long as I could remember, Duggan worked as the janitor at the school. Cleanin the hallways, classrooms and bathrooms and patchin up the ancient boiler in the basement that supplied the hot water, radiator heat. In Summer he'd do odd jobs around the community. I'd see him around, wearin his overalls and raggty, straw hat. He looked like a harmless ole grampa or farmer. Didn't seem to be no harm in Ole Duggan.

We lived in the South but it snowed a lot in Winter. Sometimes, as soon as the roads were passable, we'd go back to school with snow still on the ground. When any of the schoolboys would get their clothes all wet playin in the snow, they'd be sent to the basement to get their clothes dry beside the massive boiler.

It was years before anybody spoke out but be sure your sins will find you out and eventually Ole Duggan's did. Some of those little boys started tellin their mamas 'bout the things Duggan did to them down in that windowless basement. I was just a little kid and I didn't know why they fired Duggan, but they did and you almost never saw him anywhere anymore.

It won't too long before they found him at the mill stream, deader than a boot-smashed rat. I found out why, after I grew up and I figured he had it comin, long before he got it...but then, I aint nobody's judge. Nobody knows exactly how many boys he hurt, 'cause some never spoke a word about Duggan and the basement. I guess they was too shamed, too scared or too proud to admit it. There was just no way to know how many was hurt. Even though he was dead his damage lived on. A new janitor was hired but no schoolboy was ever sent to that basement again.

The old school is gone now, demolished to make way for new buildings. Seems a pity, I went to that school and so did my daddy. The new generations probably don't know about Ole Duggan and that's most likely for the best.