mkokc.

OK, here’s the story.

I was driving my son to school this morning, part of the Classen-Oklahoma Christian loop that we take every day. It takes us down Broadway Extension at about 7:15 a.m., a great time for white-knuckle traffic frustration, for sure.

Today was different. Slow but steady until we got to about 36th street. That’s when I saw a nice little clot of cars up ahead, slowing down and steering away from the shoulder as something was happening.

It was hard to believe, but here’s what I saw: One car parked on the shoulder, another truck further down in the grass and two grown men beating the tar out of each other. 

Let me repeat: Two men, one in a t-shirt and jean, another in a white dress shirt and slack, kicking, punching, spitting and bleeding over each other. Not cool.

Totally not cool. I had two kids in my hoopty mommy minivan and I didn’t want them to see this mess.

But then I couldn’t believe that people were just driving past, letting the rumble continue because they didn’t want to miss out on getting a good downtown parking garage spot. 

I saw a lady in another car pull over and start frantically dialing the phone, alerting OKC’s finest. But they were still going at it. 

So I put on the brakes and stopped right there. Right hand lane, Broadway extension, that was me.

Now I serious considered getting out. I really, really did. If I did, I would have gotten whooped I’m sure. I didn’t get out. Courage or cowardly, you be the judge.

Instead, I rolled down the window, right parallel with these two puffing their chests at each other, spitting blood and feinting kicks and punches. 

I then yelled at them for the next 5-10 minutes. I told them to get back in their cars, to walk away, to knock it off, to act like men, to turn around, to go home and to do just about anything that didn’t involve giving each other a beatdown on Broadway.

They both shot me quick looks, but neither wanted to take their eye off of each other. I don’t know if they heard me, understood me or wanted to jump through the window and shut me up. But eventually, they both walked back to their cars and got in. 

The fight was over. I rolled the window back up and finished taking everybody to school.

My daughter my crying. My son was confused about why grown-ups would be doing something like that. It was the most violence they had ever seen in real life and up close. I’ve seen some bar fights just as bad, but it has been awhile and those were folks in their 20s.

I explained to them that I couldn’t just drive past. I had to do something and Daddy is really good at yelling at people. 

Now why did I do it? I was frustrated by everyone’s apathy, for sure. But I think it was more than that. I’ve been trying to walk my Christian walk a lot stronger lately. It’s easy to be cynical, it’s easy to look the other way and it’s hard to do something.

Let me repeat: It’s hard to DO SOMETHING.

I’ve been part of a men’s group for more than a year in which we are all really trying to change our lives, lean on God and live the life that he wants. Last week, we talked about how HARD that is. We also talk often about how many men struggle and don’t feel like they have anyone to speak into their lives.

Perhaps that was the complicated formula that went through my head in a split-second (Right after the second that said ‘Don’t get out of the van!’) 

I felt like if I (or someone) didn’t say ‘STOP’, they never would.

I hope both of those men are feeling better this afternoon and realize that whatever started their roadside fight wasn’t worth ruining a life. I hope they are praying. I sure am.

Did I do the right thing? I hope so. 

Do I hope I never have to see a fight like that again. Definitely so.

- mk