I read something on the web yesterday about how things used to be simpler. That’s true. Let me tell you a true story of a simpler time.
Around 1925, a Klan organizer showed up in the little Tennessee town where my parents grew up. My grandfathers stopped by the place where he was staying. One had a feather pillow. The other had a pail of roofing tar. They told the fellow that if he were still in town the next night they would be back with several friends and a fence rail.
Problem solved.
Neither side of my family has ever had much use for thugs or bullies.