Remembering The Day My Dad Got Shot

My father thought that writing about the day he got shot from my point of view might be a good companion piece to his own version, so that is what I will do. Like him, this is something that isn't exactly easy to discuss, but I believe that the time has come for our family to attempt to put this sad incident behind us.

Last September, I was called into jury duty for the first time in my life. I was told to report to the federal building in downtown Ft Worth. Since I don't have a car, my father was nice enough to give me a ride. A couple of hours into it, we were given a lunch break. My dad met me and we got a couple of Subway sandwiches and ate them in a nearby park. Seeing this as a minor milestone in my life, he was eager to hear how things were going, and I was more than happy to tell him. It was a pleasant, but short-lived lunch.

I returned to the courthouse after agreeing to call him when I was released. He told me that he was going to be at a park nearby, catching up on his reading. About three hours later, I was dismissed. Apparently, my pro-legalization of drugs stance did not impress a court that was about to try a man for possession with intent to distribute. I called my dad on the cell phone I had left with him, only to get my voicemail before it even rung. Obviously my phone had been turned off, so I paged him. Knowing that he would come to get me without bothering to call to say so, I went outside to wait. It was about 2:30 pm at that time. When, after 45 minutes, he still hadn't shown, I went back inside to page him again. Another hour - no dad. Getting mad that he would forget or ignore me, I tried again. And again. You could say I "pager-fucked" him.

Five o'clock came and went, yet I still sat outside with no ride. I called a co-worker, who said he would be there in a few minutes. I called my grandmother, hoping against hope that she had heard from him. Nope, no such luck. Another 30 minutes went by, and I called up to work again, only to hear another co-worker tell me that the guy coming to get me was actually on his way to the federal courthouse in Dallas. Not good. I called my cousin to come get me.

By the time my cousin showed up at 6:30, I was in a small state of panic. In 24 years of life, my father had never stood me up. Never. Something had to be amiss. I didn't know what park he had planned to go to, so I had my cousin take me to the one that we had lunched at hours before. Not a single person was there. Not knowing what to do, we came back to Euless, hoping (but knowing better) to find him preparing for his beloved Cowboys game. My brother was the only one at home. I informed him of the situation, and the three of us immediately went to our grandmother's house.

When the game started and we still hadn't heard from him, I went into a full state of panic. This went against everything I knew of my dad. He never missed the Cowboys. My cousin started calling jails, while I called local hospitals. We were asking about him by name, and when that didn't help, we asked about any John Doe's. None in jails, none in hospitals.

At a total loss of what to do, I called my boss (and good friend) Roc. When he picked up the phone, I lost every bit of cool I had. Sobbing, I told him what was going on. He told me to see if I could file a missing persons' report. My brother volunteered to walk the block to the police station to see what could be done, while my cousin started calling car impound lots.

At about 8:45, we got a call from a hospital (one that I had already called twice) saying that my dad was doing okay, but was in the ICU. I was so excited to finally know where he was that I forgot to ask why he was there. We waited for my brother to return, and then headed to Harris Methodist hospital near downtown Ft Worth.

As we pulled into the hospital, we noticed 2 TV News crews doing some sort of report. We joked that they must be here about dad. Little did we know, they were really there to report on that incident! When we asked to see our father, we were immediately questioned and ID'd by several police officers, who refused to tell us anything. At 11 pm, we were finally permitted to see him.

I had never in my life seen my father in the hospital, so seeing him unconsious with tubes coming out of him was extremely unpleasant. That was when we were told that he had been shot in the stomach. I hit the floor, my brother excused himself, and my cousin turned white as a sheet.

Could this really be true? How could this happen to the most nonviolent member of our family? This was the man who had talked every one of his children, neices, and nephews out of committing jailable offenses. This was the man who had made sure we had our voter's registrations - and used them. Here, this lump on a hospital bed, was the man who bent over backwards to put food in our mouths, a roof over our heads, and education into our brains.

All over a 1995 oldsmobile. How fucked up is that?

As my dad stated in the post before this, this guy committed many crimes that day. Two other people got the joys of facing his gun, and luckily they suffered no physical injuries. He wrecked into another car, hospitalizing both of the people in it. He fought the police, ultimately getting himself tasered. They found hard drugs, brass knuckles, and the gun he shot my dad with. Oh, and he was already on probation. This asshole made it very clear that he is unsafe to the general public.

The trial is next week, and it couldn't have come sooner. Our family has waited almost a year to put this behind us.

I do want to thank a few people before I end this post. Both sides of our family came through for us like champions, making us realize how lucky we are to have them. My father's co-workers were great. They made it very clear that if we need anything at all, they would get it done. My boss, Roc, and my co-workers came together to create the support network, giving us anything we needed to get through his recovery. Last, but certainly not least, I want to thank my best friend, Jennifer (Little Red), who held us all up throughout the entire ordeal. She's come through for me so many times now that I honestly don't know where I'd be without her.

The love shown by those around us showed how wealthy we really are. I don't think our family will ever forget it.