And then it all stops.
I got a phone call last night at work from my sister, and she said she had some news to tell me.
A few of you know that I was born in Atlanta, GA and that the vast majority of my paternal family lives in and around Atlanta. I only have one first cousin, and he’s 3 years old. I grew up with about 20 second cousins and 40 third cousins around all of the time, and it was a truly awesome thing.
When we moved to Nashville, we really lost touch with a lot of that family because we were rarely there. Whenever we all got together, it was huge catch-up session and basically seeing the newest husbands/wives/children that had come around since the last gathering.
So, all that said, my sister called with bad news. One of our cousins, George Bradley, had been missing since Friday evening in Atlanta. He’s a parole officer, and he had been moving offices with his co-workers all day. He left his firearm in the office and went on his way, promising to be back within a couple hours. He went to get dinner and then never come back. His family started asking questions on Saturday morning when he wouldn’t answer his phone, and the search began. Saturday. Sunday. Monday. No word. Someone had used his cell phone to send a text to his mother to say he was fine, but nothing more.
Finally, Tuesday morning, they found him in the hospital. He’d been mugged Friday evening and beaten pretty badly. He’d crawled from where he’d been beaten to a homeless man and asked for help. He was admitted as a John Doe because his wallet, phone and car had all been stolen. It had taken 4 days to find him.
The sad thing is that George has two gorgeous little girls that need their daddy. Their mom can’t seem to get it together in life and he’s their rock. So, friends of mine, say a prayer for him. He has a lot of recovery ahead. He’s a man of character and love. Let’s show him some of the latter.
Also, I may or not be going to get my carry permit after the primary is over.