Nelson's thoughts on Father's Day...

Dad said...

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

This Sunday will be my first Father’s Day without Heather. It will be different. There is an emptiness inside of me that won’t go away. But, it brings to mind the most memorable Father’s Day I ever had, and perhaps the most stupid thing I ever did.
Betty and I enjoyed taking the kids on vacations. So it was that in June, 1988 we headed west to the Grand Canyon.
We left early on a Saturday morning and drove all day before stopping at Elk City, Oklahoma. The next day was Father’s Day and the kids gave me a brand new, bright red St. Louis Cardinals shirt to wear. Betty had also bought new Cardinals shirts for the three of them, so we headed into Texas and New Mexico proudly displaying our “tourist” colors. We arrived in Gallup, New Mexico about supper time and checked into a motel.
Our room was in the back of the motel and when we drove around, all of the pull-in spots in front of the room doors were filled. So we parallel parked on the far side of the lot. We didn’t unload right away. Just headed to the room to freshen up a bit. Betty and the kids went across the lot first. I locked the car and was about 40 feet behind them. As I crossed the pavement, I noticed a young man walking through the parking lot in my direction. Our paths crossed and I said, “Hi.” He responded with, “Give me your wallet.” Now I didn’t quite believe what I was hearing. Then I looked down and noticed he was pointing a small, bright silver revolver at me. He repeated his demand. My thoughts were racing, “I’m not going to give him my money. He didn’t work for it.” And, though my wallet was in my pants pocket, I said, “I don’t have any. I left my wallet in the car.” At this point he turned toward Betty and the kids, who were on the other side of the parked cars, and said, “Give me your purse, Lady.” I spoke out, “Don’t give it to him, Betty.” Two things then happened simultaneously. The gunman had a look on his face as if to say, “It’s supposed to be easier than this.” And, Heather saw the gun. She took off running down the sidewalk screaming, “My Daddy, My Daddy, My Daddy.” People came from everywhere to see what she was yelling about.
The thief freaked out, turned, and ran in the direction he’d come from. Betty and Skylor took off after Heather and I ran to the motel office. When we’d checked in moments before, we’d been the only travelers in the office, but when I returned it was filled with people. I burst in and yelled, “Call the police. I’ve just been held up at gunpoint in your parking lot.” The expressions on all of the other faces was priceless.
Betty and the kids were located in another motel room where an elderly couple had ushered them in during the chaos. The police believed the robber had parked on the nearby interstate and crossed through a building under construction to reach the motel and that he had returned the same and was long gone. I felt like he was staying at the motel, but they wouldn’t do a room check.
The motel gave us a different room (with no discount), we finally relaxed a bit, and later went out for my favorite Father’s Day meal at a steakhouse, still proudly displaying our Cardinal shirts.
I’ve often thought how ignorant I was to have stared down the barrel of that gun and said, ”No.” It could have cost me all my Father’s Days since. And I also realize that Heather was a hero that evening. Her “Heathering” saved the day...and her Daddy.