Hillbilly Elegy

had five years and about thirty-five
pounds on me, but I came at him twice as
he pushed me down easily. The third
time I came at him, he’d had enough and
proceeded to pound the shit out of me. I
ran to Mamaw’s house for some first
aid, crying and a little bloody. She just
smiled at me. “You did good, honey. You
did real good.”
In fighting, as with many things,
Mamaw taught me through experience.
She never laid a hand on me punitively
—she was anti-spanking in a way must
have come from her own bad
experiences—but when I asked her what
it felt like to be punched in the head, she
showed me. A swift blow, delivered by