Yesterday, I learned that a friend’s dad got jumped at Nashville Shores.

Apparently, it went down like this:

Friend’s dad was having a problem with the parking pass that he had purchased.  The car full of twenty-somethings behind him grew impatient.  They got out of their car and approached his car which contained in it not only himself but his wife and grandkids.

The impatient guys asked him what the problem was in a threatening tone.  After a few rage fueled words were exchanged, the guys returned to their car, and the parking pass worked.

After friend’s dad dropped off his wife at the front building, he noticed the car that was previously behind him in line was still behind him.  He was being followed.

He stopped and rolled down the window and asked the fellas if there was going to be a problem.  Right then and there, the guys jumped him in front of his grandchildren who were still locked in seatbelts in the backseat.

They beat him badly.  They put him in the hospital. All over parking.

When I heard this, I cried.  I cried for my friend.  I cried for those kids.  I cried for the man’s wife.  I cried for the loss of humanity.  I cried for the stupidity that those guys probably inherited from their so-called fathers, men masquerading as fathers.

Has it always been this way?  Did I just not know?

All the times that I’ve walked to my car alone at night without a care in the world…

I am trained, but I don’t know if I could take down four 20 year old guys.

This was not meant to be a Father’s Day post, but it looks like that is what it is becoming.  So, here it is:

If you had a good childhood, and your dad taught you better than to lose your patience over parking, maybe give the guy a call if you can.

If you can’t, then participate in life in a way he would expect you to.  Speak on behalf of those who can’t.  Donate when you can. Feed someone less fortunate than you.

Be excellent to each other.

Yesterday, I learned that a friend’s dad got jumped at Nashville Shores.

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