A Family Outing

When I was 8 years old my family and I lived in Broomfield Colorado. We lived on the 13^th hole of a golf course.  It was a nice subdivision to live in. Occasionally during the evening residents in the subdivision would go out with their families after the golf course had closed and spend time either putting on the green, relax on the side of a bunker, or have family time. After all this golf course was the backyard.

                I remember one evening like it was yesterday.  We all went to our “backyard” as usual. My sisters and I took our putters to practice on the green with our mom and dad. We decided to have a putting competition.  The game was reaching the end when I saw an older man in a golf cart zooming towards us. I told my dad and he said not to worry about. But as the cart got closer and closer I could tell he was looking straight at us. When he pulled up to the green he jumped out of his cart. His eyes burned as his focus tightened on us. His mouth left open with a sense of disgust as he got closer. The words “What are you doing!” dripped maliciously down his chin. We were shocked and could not move. His face contorted into disbelief as if the fire behind his eyes had just combusted into a rage. He pointed away and screamed “You need to leave now!” This did not make sense to me, because I had just watched him drive past other families and not say a word to them.  My dad assured him that we live literally yards away, and that we were not hurting the course or doing anything out of the ordinary. The old man became more and more upset with us and threatened to call the authorities. My dad turned to us and told us to go ahead and go inside so that he and this elderly enraged hulk could talk.

                As we turned and headed into the house I could hear the loud outbursts from the man and the calm collected rebuttals of my father fade as we went inside. I ran through the house to the nearest window where I could witness the confrontation.  I noticed that the man had become more upset. His arms waived about like a wild animal as his words seemed to spew out of his mouth. My dad with his arms crossed listened with shear intensity as his eyes seemed to pierce through the man’s outburst. My father said a sentence that seemed to make the man go into a whirlwind. The strength and collectedness of my father was like a rock as the waves crashed against it. After many exchanges my father did not move or change his disposition. My father’s stare followed the man as he furiously waddled back to his cart and drove away. My father then started making his way to the house. As fast as I could I ran back through the house, out the garage, and onto the golf course to meet him. “Dad! What happened? What did you say? I just want to hit that guy!” I said as I approached him. The intensity in his eyes disappeared, and was then full of love all in an instant. He winked and said, “Don’t worry about it, son. Let’s go inside.”

                To this day I do not know what my father said to that man. But I will never forget the strength that he showed that day. He put himself aside so that he may protect his family. For a time I believed that violence should be my answer if I am ever put into a discriminatory situation. Now that I am older and when I look back at this story I now know that I was wrong.  My father showed me first hand that I do not have to physically fight those who wrong me. If I stand tall, hold my ground, and plant myself firmly in God’s love I can confront any adversity.