Will you read this drama and tragedy, called "The Girl" and ponder the final questions?

This is Part One of Three installments, all to be released today or at the latest by tomorrow. The questions I mention will be in the 'Epilogue' after Part 3. All comments and C.C. are welcome. Thank you, Thomas

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The Girl

Part 1 of 3

Foundational Volition

This journal concerns The Girl, a young lady named Bridget, not her real name

My favorite female sobriquet, to protect her identity, you will soon understand

Please indulge me to set up this story for you will always remember this Bridget

All the Bridgets out there; this forever changed my view of living life in peace

I ask your patience. Don’t just read, ingest this to your heart, mind, body and soul

Ask yourself if we can change, or is there no longer any hope of renewing the mind?

Has the world changed us, understandably so, but consider what is right, read on?

If the power to change ones heart has no interest to you, please stop here, np:

Granddad was a nice old man; he died on Abe Lincoln’s birthday

He picked up a hitchhiker 15 minutes after kissing me good-bye

For his kindness, he received a bullet in the back of his head

They never caught who murdered him, and I’ll never forget Granddad

Punctual equilibrium sprung me ahead a few years to the state of Florida

With family, jaunting to a family setting; crashing steel, up flies a motorcycle

Right in front of our vehicle, my eyes, they see a car hit this Hell’s Angel guy

Hell-man goes flying like a missile, perhaps 100 feet like Evil Knievel used to show

Dad summons the six of us boys to stay in vehicle; out he goes to the victim

A surgeon was my Father; he stayed with the man until the ambulance arrived

So young at the time, will never forget hearing Mother say to Dad, “you saved him”

An act of kindness, one compelled to help another, still imbibed my mind

Some 10 years later I’m coming home from college, 1000 mile drive

My jalopy, a 1968 Impala all the frat guys laughed at, I did not care

Sunday, 50 miles from Chicago, my car ignites a mental breakdown

No cell phones baby, time to hitch-hike and hope for the best

The evening, late, not a busy highway at the time, comes a big white Cadillac

Inside is one massive, long black dude with sunglasses, he opens passenger door

He is still looking straight on, says nothing to me, my first thought was my life

Second thought was Granddad; I asked the stranger for a lift as far as Chi-town

Can’t mitigate the circumlocution, but the bottom line; I wing myself inside car

He never said one word; dropped me off at an exit a couple miles from home

An act of kindness from a man I judged by the cover of his book; now my ken

Right that moment I told myself I will always help others; help others always

Lastly, before I impart the indelible manifestations of this sweet girl Bridget,

I take you to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico; a day cruise off the coast on a nearby island

A ditionary of sorts, within the beach, broke through, rapids force into Pacific Ocean

Out of the tributary spurts a boat with a man and a woman flailing away to their death

What happened then was a sight never seen by my eyes……or anyone else

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