Andre
I was sitting in the backyard of a good friend - James, and his brother Watching him work his barbecue magic. Just then James's 17-year-old son, Andre, came running, shirtless, right by the cooker, holding a football with 3-4 younger cousins hanging on his legs The kids knocked over a backyard table. My friend James said, "Son I have told you all afternoon not to get those young ones all hyper like that." Andre flashed an angry glare at his dad. James said. "That's it son, it's time for some medicine." Then he told the young kids to play on the other side of the house. "Andre, go over to the tree and fix a switch, and make it a good one," James said. Andre hung his head and went to a tree in the far corner of the yard - stepped into the nearby garage, brought out a knife and some sandpaper and quickly cut off a branch, trimmed off the leaves, and sanded down the tip. "You guys watch the meat. It's about done," James said to me. "This will only take 10 minutes or so." I couldn't hear what he told his son over in the corner of the yard, but James started tapping Andre's shoulders with the switch. (I'll skip some of what happened to get to the strapping.) He did tell his son to drop his shorts and grab his ankles. Andre is a strong, well-built young black man for 17 years of age and I wondered if there was going to be a struggle between father and son. There was none. James landed about a dozen strong licks with the switch, and then I heard him say, "OK son, step into the garage and bring me back the strap." Andre stood up, pulled up his cargo shorts, and disappeared. In a second he was back with a long leather 3"-wide strap, handing it respectfully to his father. James told him something in a soft voice, and Andre dropped his shorts and grabbed his ankles again. James doubled the strap and landed a hard lick right on the center of Andre's well-developed butt. The sound of that strap echoed off the walls of the garage. I saw Andre's head snap up in pain. The younger kids poked their heads around the corner of the house, and I cut my eyes over at James' brother. He said, "Those boys need to see this. Our family doesn't spare the rod." I said, "I was raised old-school, too." He smiled. I hopped up and turned the meat, grateful for something to do. Standing gave me a better view of the strapping underway across the yard. Slowly James landed lick after lick of the strap. I'm guessing there were about 5-7 seconds between licks. I can't begin to imagine what that strap felt like after a switching. Andre's butt was turning bright red - since he is not very light-skinned it was amazing to see how red it got. I heard James say once during the strapping "I'm proud of you son, you are taking your medicine like a man." There was not a trace of anger in James' voice. Respect was the order of the day. Andre stiffened his legs after every lick and raised his butt for the next one. I was too shook to keep count. I'm guessing James landed 25-35 licks with the strap. The last five or so came harder and faster. Then James threw the strap down on the ground, and said, "Stand up, Son, I'm proud of you, let's go in the house." He put his arm around Andre's shoulder and walked his son around to the front of the house. After about 5 minutes, James joined his brother and me out back. He pulled up another lawn chair by the cooker and said, "I told Andre to join us here and help us finish up the meat. He'll be out in a minute
I was sitting in the backyard of a good friend - James, and his brother Watching him work his barbecue magic. Just then James's 17-year-old son, Andre, came running, shirtless, right by the cooker, holding a football with 3-4 younger cousins hanging on his legs The kids knocked over a backyard table. My friend James said, "Son I have told you all afternoon not to get those young ones all hyper like that." Andre flashed an angry glare at his dad. James said. "That's it son, it's time for some medicine." Then he told the young kids to play on the other side of the house. "Andre, go over to the tree and fix a switch, and make it a good one," James said. Andre hung his head and went to a tree in the far corner of the yard - stepped into the nearby garage, brought out a knife and some sandpaper and quickly cut off a branch, trimmed off the leaves, and sanded down the tip. "You guys watch the meat. It's about done," James said to me. "This will only take 10 minutes or so." I couldn't hear what he told his son over in the corner of the yard, but James started tapping Andre's shoulders with the switch. (I'll skip some of what happened to get to the strapping.) He did tell his son to drop his shorts and grab his ankles. Andre is a strong, well-built young black man for 17 years of age and I wondered if there was going to be a struggle between father and son. There was none. James landed about a dozen strong licks with the switch, and then I heard him say, "OK son, step into the garage and bring me back the strap." Andre stood up, pulled up his cargo shorts, and disappeared. In a second he was back with a long leather 3"-wide strap, handing it respectfully to his father. James told him something in a soft voice, and Andre dropped his shorts and grabbed his ankles again. James doubled the strap and landed a hard lick right on the center of Andre's well-developed butt. The sound of that strap echoed off the walls of the garage. I saw Andre's head snap up in pain. The younger kids poked their heads around the corner of the house, and I cut my eyes over at James' brother. He said, "Those boys need to see this. Our family doesn't spare the rod." I said, "I was raised old-school, too." He smiled. I hopped up and turned the meat, grateful for something to do. Standing gave me a better view of the strapping underway across the yard. Slowly James landed lick after lick of the strap. I'm guessing there were about 5-7 seconds between licks. I can't begin to imagine what that strap felt like after a switching. Andre's butt was turning bright red - since he is not very light-skinned it was amazing to see how red it got. I heard James say once during the strapping "I'm proud of you son, you are taking your medicine like a man." There was not a trace of anger in James' voice. Respect was the order of the day. Andre stiffened his legs after every lick and raised his butt for the next one. I was too shook to keep count. I'm guessing James landed 25-35 licks with the strap. The last five or so came harder and faster. Then James threw the strap down on the ground, and said, "Stand up, Son, I'm proud of you, let's go in the house." He put his arm around Andre's shoulder and walked his son around to the front of the house. After about 5 minutes, James joined his brother and me out back. He pulled up another lawn chair by the cooker and said, "I told Andre to join us here and help us finish up the meat. He'll be out in a minute
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