It was a blistering hot summer day. I must have been about 13. I had just pitched a 5 inning Little League game at the old School #4 field on Anderson Avenue in the town in which I was raised; Fort Lee, NJ. I can't remember if we won the game or not. What I do recall was being totally spent from the effort I had put forth on such a hot day.
As was his custom, my father was in attendance. He did his utmost to support me in all my endeavors, particularly the athletic ones. So there he was, clapping and yelling, "let's go Frankie!"
After the game we walked to the car for the short ride to our home. At the first intersection we came to a traffic light that guided the flow of vehicles between Anderson Avenue and State Route 5, both busy roads. As we approached the light, there was a startling BOOM that jarred me out of my state of exhaustion.
I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but a car driven by an older gentleman had basically T-boned another car driven by a younger man. There must have been a child in the back seat as the man I assumed was his father, came storming out of the driver's seat to remove the boy from the wreckage.
My father, who had witnessed the accident too, immediately sprang into action, using our car to shield the others. He told me stay in the car and then approached the wreckage. He made sure that the young boy was placed in a secure spot off to the side of the road while we waited for the police and EMT's to arrive. Now remember, this was in the 1960's and cell phones had not even been thought of yet. So someone had to use a house phone to call the authorities. And, then you simply waited.
While we waited and I watched from my father's car, the younger man became enraged with what had transpired. He started after the older man who was still behind the wheel of his car and appeared to be in some kind of daze.
As the angry man approached, I noticed how large he seemed to be - he must have been about 6'4", muscular, with dirty-blonde hair. He reminded me of a Viking - and he was RAGING! He grabbed the old man and attempted to rip him out of his car. The old man looked up with terror in his eyes.
While I watched, I remember an overwhelming feeling of nausea. It was probably a combination of exhaustion from the game, the heat, and stress caused by what I had just witnessed. And, quite frankly, I was also afraid that a raving lunatic would not only attack the other driver but me and my father too.
Then without a moment's hesitation, my father was in the younger man's face! Now, my father was not a big man - about the same size that I am today - 5'9" and 180lbs. - and that other guy was HUGE. Still displaying no fear at all, my father pulled the big man off the other and told him in no uncertain terms, "YOU get over there by your son and wait for the police!"
And, you know what? That's exactly what the man did. My father's determination to do the right thing was so powerful even the larger man knew he was no match for a man who had right on his side.
After the police and EMT's arrived, my father turned the scene over to the them and we got back in the car for the short ride home. I remember looking at my old man with an entirely new found
admiration! He must have seen me beaming at him and said, "Frankie, never hesitate to do the right thing. Never."
With that in mind, I can't even begin to express my outrage with the response of the local Uvalde, Texas police in their feeble efforts to save the children of the Robb Elementary School. Beyond what tactics they may have felt necessary to end the situation, they hesitated for NEARLY AN HOUR while innocent lives were taken. What they needed to do was the right thing - even at the cost of their own lives!
Some might say it's easy to judge from a far. I was not there and blah, blah, blah. All I DO know is that my father would not have hesitated - and neither would have I.
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