The Boss!!!Bob Thurn died today, May 2, 2009.
I have been waiting since I was about thirteen years old to write this obit and I thought most of the bitterness would still be with me. I have mellowed but I'm still somewhat pleased this man finally met his maker.
Bob Thurn beat me on three different occasions, in front of other people and incidentally with the full blessing of my parents. On all three occasions I did merit some sort of punishment and I was never singled out or treated different from any other boy. My brother Peter and I attended St. Paul's School in Cordoba Argentina. It was run by Bob Thurn and while there are many happy memories of growing up, discovery and coming of age, I cannot erase the feelings of terror this man evoked in me. There are those that say he had to be tough to ensure that we also became tough and grew up with the ability to survive in a dangerous world,(1970's Argentina was a dangerous place) and to that extent I think he was successful. Cruel to be kind makes sense on paper but I still think it is wrong to beat the hell out of a child just to teach him a lesson.
The public humiliations were indeed deflating but the occurrence that really filled me with distaste for the man and destroyed my confidence in mankind took place one night after study hall. We had to tidy our desks and stand by them while a prefect came by and inspected them to make sure we had done the job right. I had spilled some ink on the top of my desk, (yes, we used fountain pens) and to cover the stain I had taped a timetable over the offending blot. Duncan Glass had come by to inspect the desks and when he saw my timetable he proceeded to tear it off. What happened next is engraved in my memory. He looked at me as though I had strangled a puppy and then he flattened me. I saw the fist coming but couldn't move in time. I hit the floor quite hard and remained there for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only seconds, until I finally got up. I looked straight ahead but out of the corner of my eye I could see Bob Thurn standing in the window, watching. He stared for a second and then walked away. Duncan Glass looked worried and asked if I was all right. I stared straight ahead and said nothing. That was the end of it.
His callousness left me a different person and while I can forgive him the canings I received I will never forgive him for his indifference to my suffering by the hands of someone who did not have the right or power to hand out such a brutal punishment.
Bob Thurn beat me on three different occasions, in front of other people and incidentally with the full blessing of my parents. On all three occasions I did merit some sort of punishment and I was never singled out or treated different from any other boy. My brother Peter and I attended St. Paul's School in Cordoba Argentina. It was run by Bob Thurn and while there are many happy memories of growing up, discovery and coming of age, I cannot erase the feelings of terror this man evoked in me. There are those that say he had to be tough to ensure that we also became tough and grew up with the ability to survive in a dangerous world,(1970's Argentina was a dangerous place) and to that extent I think he was successful. Cruel to be kind makes sense on paper but I still think it is wrong to beat the hell out of a child just to teach him a lesson.
The public humiliations were indeed deflating but the occurrence that really filled me with distaste for the man and destroyed my confidence in mankind took place one night after study hall. We had to tidy our desks and stand by them while a prefect came by and inspected them to make sure we had done the job right. I had spilled some ink on the top of my desk, (yes, we used fountain pens) and to cover the stain I had taped a timetable over the offending blot. Duncan Glass had come by to inspect the desks and when he saw my timetable he proceeded to tear it off. What happened next is engraved in my memory. He looked at me as though I had strangled a puppy and then he flattened me. I saw the fist coming but couldn't move in time. I hit the floor quite hard and remained there for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only seconds, until I finally got up. I looked straight ahead but out of the corner of my eye I could see Bob Thurn standing in the window, watching. He stared for a second and then walked away. Duncan Glass looked worried and asked if I was all right. I stared straight ahead and said nothing. That was the end of it.
His callousness left me a different person and while I can forgive him the canings I received I will never forgive him for his indifference to my suffering by the hands of someone who did not have the right or power to hand out such a brutal punishment.
My condolences to his family.
I agree with you that Bob was not good to us at times; however, you should try not to live in the spirit of revenge. I would suggest the deletion of the last two lines. This is more for your own benefit and not so much for Bob's. Just a suggestion.
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