by Angel Maldonado
My story takes place in Columbus Georgia during 1968. My father had been in Vietnam for a second tour, and we didn't know when he was returning. He called my mother to let her know he was on his way home while I was playing little league baseball. My mom picked me up at the ball park, and we all headed to the airport to meet my dads plane. When we arrived we waited at the fence overlooking the ramp about 50 feet away from a group of protesters (hippies). When the plane landed all 5 of us kids were trying to get the first glimpse of my dad, when the protesters started moving over towards the gate. When my dad came through the gate one of the hippies came over and spit on him. Without thinking I took my baseball bat and swung as hard as I could hitting him in the knee. A police officer came over to see what was going on. I told the officer I hit the guy because no one spits on my dad. The hippies friends all clammered for the officer to arrest me for battery on their friend. Instead he arrested the hippie, and told the guy's friends If some one had spit on his father he would have done the same thing. Family, and friends are things military brat holds dear.
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