Happy 60th Father's Day, WB.

A Short Story of a Lesson Learned

One summer evening in the mid-fifties, the Cranford police called WB at home. Could he bring his 11-year-old son Charles down to the station? Someone had reported me for a drive-by shooting. They’d received a report that I had ridden my bike down one of those precious middle class Cranford streets toting a BB gun, had stopped in front of a brick bungalow and shot several BB’s through a very respectable citizen’s picture window. They wanted me down at the station for questioning immediately.

WB told them we’d be down as soon as possible. He found me in my room and told me what the cops had said and asked me if I’d done it. I said no. Then we drove down to the cop shop where I was grilled for a half hour by a couple of belligerent cops who were already convinced of my guilt. They told us they had an eyewitness. The more I denied the crime, the harder they leaned on me. Finally, exasperated, they turned to WB and said, “Mr. Simpson, he’s lying; we know he did it. Can you get him to tell the truth?” With that the old man stood up, looked those self-righteous bastards in the eye and said, “You guys are wrong. I asked him if he did it and said he didn’t. He’s my son and if he says he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it. We’re going home. If you get any information that concerns us, give me a call.”

That was that. We left. I was very thankful. And, fortunately, the next day they caught the guy who did the deed--which is another story.

Now, I’ve had a lot of disagreements with my father over the years, and for most of our lives together we seldom saw eye to eye on anything. But I’ve never forgotten the night he listened to me and believed what I told him—in spite of the “evidence.” It was a lesson that has stuck with me throughout my life because it taught me to look beyond the facts, beyond conventional wisdom, beyond public opinion, and to question authority. Most importantly, it taught me the real meaning of trust. For that, I just wanted say thanks to my old man on this, his 60th Father’s Day.