The Lake Street War of 1984
Austin writes:
Not many people are aware of a small territorial war that occurred in the back yards of Lake St. during the 1980’s. This was not a conventional war. It was more of an oppression of the wild youth of that time period. On one side, you had Ryan Olah, Kyle McCormick, Zak Headrick, Jared Maier, and a few unsuspecting fishermen (non-Lake St. people---civilians, if you will). On the other side, a lone gunman, a BB Gun sniper. This sniper would fire at any of these enemies who dared fish the waters behind 109 Lake St. Most times, the sniper would miss several times before the victim would realize they were being targeted. Once they realized though, it would become a mad scramble for cover. Innocent kids turned into scared prey in the blink of an eye. That area of Jeddy’s became a mini-Sarajevo.
One August day, the first casualty of the war was taken down by the sniper. By this point, the mere sound of a window opening sent the kids scrambling for safety. The sniper spotted his target. A young Ryan Olah taunted him by fishing in the clearing behind the Morvays. Everyone knew this was a favorite Kill Zone. Yet, young Ryan threw caution to the wind with dreams of a 5 pound carp.
Many speculated the sniper had stocked Jeddy’s that year, just to lure the targets in, but this is nonsense. As the sniper pumped his air rifle, he planned a surprise attack. He would fling open the patio door and fire quickly to try to pin his prey down. Then, he could circle around Mrs. Woodruff’s driveway and rush Ryan’s hideout. Well, it started as planned. The door flung open, and the sniper quickly pointed the rifle and fired. The golden BB went sailing, as if in slow motion. The sniper watched it arc up and start back down. Could it be? No Way! A direct hit. The BB hit its victim in the back, dead center. Ryan should have earned the nickname, “Potato Sack”, because that is what he dropped like. Face first into the dirt. He let out a deafening scream as he went down. At first, the sniper feared he had shot a 6 year old girl. Initially, Ryan lay still, playing possum. But as the distinct sound of a BB gun being pumped reached his ears, instinct kicked in. He jumped up and took off. I fired two more shots at him, as he sprinted home, but just to keep him running. I didn’t want him turning me into the U.N. (i.e. Grandma Headrick). That would have meant some form of sanctions against me. Sorry Ryan, War is Hell.
E-mail stories to getaholdofkyle@yahoo.com
Not many people are aware of a small territorial war that occurred in the back yards of Lake St. during the 1980’s. This was not a conventional war. It was more of an oppression of the wild youth of that time period. On one side, you had Ryan Olah, Kyle McCormick, Zak Headrick, Jared Maier, and a few unsuspecting fishermen (non-Lake St. people---civilians, if you will). On the other side, a lone gunman, a BB Gun sniper. This sniper would fire at any of these enemies who dared fish the waters behind 109 Lake St. Most times, the sniper would miss several times before the victim would realize they were being targeted. Once they realized though, it would become a mad scramble for cover. Innocent kids turned into scared prey in the blink of an eye. That area of Jeddy’s became a mini-Sarajevo.
One August day, the first casualty of the war was taken down by the sniper. By this point, the mere sound of a window opening sent the kids scrambling for safety. The sniper spotted his target. A young Ryan Olah taunted him by fishing in the clearing behind the Morvays. Everyone knew this was a favorite Kill Zone. Yet, young Ryan threw caution to the wind with dreams of a 5 pound carp.
Many speculated the sniper had stocked Jeddy’s that year, just to lure the targets in, but this is nonsense. As the sniper pumped his air rifle, he planned a surprise attack. He would fling open the patio door and fire quickly to try to pin his prey down. Then, he could circle around Mrs. Woodruff’s driveway and rush Ryan’s hideout. Well, it started as planned. The door flung open, and the sniper quickly pointed the rifle and fired. The golden BB went sailing, as if in slow motion. The sniper watched it arc up and start back down. Could it be? No Way! A direct hit. The BB hit its victim in the back, dead center. Ryan should have earned the nickname, “Potato Sack”, because that is what he dropped like. Face first into the dirt. He let out a deafening scream as he went down. At first, the sniper feared he had shot a 6 year old girl. Initially, Ryan lay still, playing possum. But as the distinct sound of a BB gun being pumped reached his ears, instinct kicked in. He jumped up and took off. I fired two more shots at him, as he sprinted home, but just to keep him running. I didn’t want him turning me into the U.N. (i.e. Grandma Headrick). That would have meant some form of sanctions against me. Sorry Ryan, War is Hell.
E-mail stories to getaholdofkyle@yahoo.com
posted by Kyle at 5:54 PM
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