Charles Socci Dot Com

I grew up in a small rural area of Connecticut far from the New York suburban bedroom towns of Fairfield County. For the most part it was the sticks.My childhood summers were spent outside; and my constant companions were three sisters who lived down the block.One hot summer afternoon we decided to head over to Jones’ Pond in Irvington* to go swimming. It was a popular local spot for kids looking to cool off. There were no cabanas or chaise lounges to attract the adults. Just the water.

Most small towns have one of ‘those‘ families I think. Families that have become notorious and even legendary for one reason or another—kidnapping and cooking small children for dinner, domestic violence, criminality, or what have you…

Irvington’s local family (I’m changing their name lest they read this) was the Hardgraves.

We went up to Jones’ Pond which wasn’t far from the Hardgrave compound. We were enjoying playing in the water and didn’t even notice the presence of Bobbi-Jo, then perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, and her friend’s presence nearby. I must have been six or seven.

I’m in the water and the next thing I know Bobbi-Jo is on top of me holding my head under the water.

She eventually let me up for air and followed with several more good dunkings before finally letting me go, laughing the whole time. We all went home, shaken.

Many years later (like fifteen or twenty) I found myself in the Irvington Tavern. The Irvington Tavern is kind of a rough around the edges type of place. Filled with regulars, it is home to a pool table, a juke box, and many shrines to Harley Davidson and Miller Beer. I’m not sure exactly what I was doing there, but my girlfriend’s older sister had tended bar there for years so I felt pretty safe.

I was minding my own business when a guy came up to me and said, “My name is Beaver Hardgrave and I bet I could kick your ass…”.

I looked him square in the eye and said, “Well, you probably could… but what if I buy you a beer instead?”.

He thought that was funny and obliged the offer and pulled up a stool next to me.

I said, “Hardgrave… do you mean like Bobbi-JOE Hardgrave…?”

“You mean the DYKE?”

“I didn’t know she was a lesbian… but are you related?”

“Yeah… she’s my sister…”

Small world.

(*some names and places changed to protect the innocent…)