COMMENTARY: Granddaddy Fred’s legacy: Once a thing is done, it cannot be undone

c. 1998 Religion News Service (Samuel K. Atchison is an ordained minister and has worked as a policy analyst and social worker to the homeless. He currently is a prison chaplain in Trenton, N.J.) UNDATED _ When I was 9, my family and I traveled to Chicago to visit my maternal grandfather during the Christmas […]

c. 1998 Religion News Service

(Samuel K. Atchison is an ordained minister and has worked as a policy analyst and social worker to the homeless. He currently is a prison chaplain in Trenton, N.J.)

UNDATED _ When I was 9, my family and I traveled to Chicago to visit my maternal grandfather during the Christmas season of 1966. This was to be no ordinary trip, for my grandfather was no ordinary man.


Small and dapper, with a flourish reminiscent of Harold Nicholas of the Nicholas Brothers dance team, Granddaddy Fred could never be confused for Grandpa Walton. The owner of several bars and”after hours”joints, he was infused, I suspect, with some of Al Capone’s DNA.

One morning while waiting for him to get dressed, I peeked into his bedroom unnoticed and saw a handgun and holster lying among his clothes. With the curiosity of every boy who grew up watching Roy Rogers and”The Rifleman,”I determined to get a closer look.

As soon as Granddaddy Fred left the room, I slipped inside and picked up the revolver. I remember thinking how heavy it was and marveling that the Lone Ranger could handle one with such ease.

As I played with these thoughts, I heard someone in the doorway. I whirled around, gun in hand, coming face to face with Granddaddy Fred. For a moment, we froze, each afraid I would pull the trigger. Finally, with slow, deliberate movements, my grandfather removed the gun from my hand, possibly saving one or more of our lives in the process.

This memory returned to me upon being told of yet another child’s death at the hands of a youthful assailant. I do not mean to joke, but such have taken on a life of their own. For in our national fascination with firearms, we have crossed a line that we never realized existed.

Where once we spoke of”accidental”shootings among our children and youth, we now speak increasingly of homicide. Where our admonitions to gun-owning parents once focused on the proper maintenance and storage of weapons, today the conversation centers more on the”values”of the people who use guns.

In essence, we have entered an ethical no man’s land, and we are at a loss as to what to do about it.


But perhaps the life of Granddaddy Fred can provide some insight.

A veritable Biggie Smalls (the Harold Nicholas character from the movie”Let’s Do It Again”), my gangster grandfather was well acquainted with the potential dangers of firearms. And he passed that wisdom on to me.

Upon retrieving his gun from my grasp, he sat me down on the bed and in a low voice explained it was a weapon, not a toy. Someone can get hurt or even killed if the gun goes off, he told me. You nearly shot me, he said. How do you think your mother would feel if that happened?

The lesson he shared with me was simple yet profound. One’s actions, my grandfather was saying, can have grave and far-reaching consequences. Lives can be changed, families disrupted, and destinies altered _ all because of one thoughtless act.

The daily trauma caused by youthful violence in the nation’s streets, schoolyards and homes bears witness to that. Thus the words of the old-style gangster provide a powerful message for today’s youth: Once a thing is done, it cannot be undone.

MJP END ATCHISON

Donate to Support Independent Journalism!

Donate Now!