The Tunnel and the Beat Down

Here's another anecdote about may father and his youngest brother, and it is family legend.

I'll call my uncle, Paul.  (He was in on IT when it was in its infancy, and also the guy who gifted me the M1 Garand rifle.)  

Obviously, dad was a scrapper. 

A newspaperman like in the movies. Sorta. 

Smokin', drinkin', carry a piece sometimes...think Mickey Spillane/Mike Hammer. 

Anyhoo...Uncle Paul was an IT guy, yes, but he wasn't some puny, douchebag nerd with a pocket protector and a slide rule. 

He was dad's size, but in better overall physical condition due to his having two legs that hadn't been turned into mincemeat as a child. 

Smart as a whip AND physically powerful.

And yes...Uncle Paul was a scrapper too! 

So one day the two of them went to a motor car race. 

I think it was the Hoosier Hundred champ dirt car race at the Indiana State Fairgrounds in Indy, but I'm not certain. 

The track at the fairgrounds was a one mile dirt oval horse racing track used for auto racing also. 

Apparently, Dad and Uncle Paul consumed copious amounts of alcohol during the race. 

After the race, they were walking thru a pedestrian-only tunnel that went under the track and allowed fans on foot to go to and from the infield and the outside grandstand area. 

Well, seems as if one unknown dumbass decided he'd take his car thru this crowded tunnel, and may have slightly bumped my father or my uncle. 

I'm not certain of some details, but I figure in my dad's mind he was not going to get hit by a car again, and now was just about as good a time as any to get some delayed payback for the traumatic injuries he suffered as a kid. 

Either my dad or Uncle Paul physically pulled the driver outta the car, and may or may not have administered a beat down. 

Allegedly.

The other brother went over to the passenger side of the car, and was about to serve out similar justice to the passenger! 

When it was discovered that the passenger was a female, that plan stopped. 

I don't think they got arrested, and I like to think they both got a round of applause from the other folks in that tunnel. 

When they got home, dad was really fucked up, Uncle Paul less so. 

I couldn't have been more 6-7-8 years old at the time, and I didn't quite understand what was going on when Uncle Paul helped dad up the stairs and put his drunk ass in bed. 

It was the first time I'd ever seen my old man totally wasted, and it would be the last. 

Kinda harkens back to me falling face first into my plate of spaghetti in front of my kids. That shit never happened again either. 

Now some people might be saying, "Zoomie! Your dad (and maybe Uncle Paul) was a drunk, abusive bastard with anger issues!" 

Meh...

I don't think so. 

Who's to say?

Certainly not me.