My father was a Navy man in the Korean War. He stood as tall as a mountain and as big as a bear, or at least that was my perception of him when I was little. He had Navy tattoos on both his forearms and a grimace that could scare a bird from the window sill.

Brother and I had to be around 5 and 4 years old and we were all enjoying family vacation on a white sandy beach in Michigan where dad’s family was from.

It had become a tradition that dad would always buy us these exceptionally cool wooden airplane gliders.

Having our gliders in hand and throwing them in the wind led us to where some high school boys were grouped together.

I didn’t have my glider for more than 10 minutes when one of them picked it up and sailed it right on top of the roof of the concession stand.

As if losing my glider wasn’t enough he laughed along with his buddies and asked me what I was going to do about it.

Standing there as the kid towered over me there was only one person who I could enlist to take care of this injustice!

So, I told the kid, “I’m going to get my dad”! All the guys laughed at me as I turned around to get my hero.

They had no idea what they were up against as I brought my dad back to the scene. Dad in a thundering voice asked me “which one did it,” as I pointed the culprit out.

As they turned around they knew they had picked on the wrong little girl and the guilty one looked as if he was going to drop a brick in his pants!

Dad asked him where it was, and the kid pointed out where it had landed. Dad asked if he was able to climb up and get it and the kid replies, “yes sir”.

I can guarantee for the rest of that summer they thought twice before bullying a little kid again because you never know what kind of dad that kid belongs to.

My glider was retrieved, and I couldn’t have been prouder of my dad and his ability to right the wrongs for his daughter.