I had heard about it - from my kids - but I had personally not experienced the brawl that could only be described as a family fight. - not one or two people fighting but an entire family including cousins, uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, and grandparents. You get the picture, if they were related, for the past few years, they seemed to join in the fight, swinging at one another, chasing one another, and doing as much damage as they could to those they were suppose to love. For the last few years it took place almost annually and would seem to break out at family reunions or gatherings. I had not been able to attend any of the family reunions for several years but my children were there three years ago, I think mostly to see if punches were going to be thrown. The story they told me was hard to believe. I sat there listening to them, thinking that any family who would break into a brawl must be from the back hills of Tennessee. Two years ago, I experienced the fight, first hand. My wife and I had been invited to a family barbecue hosted by my cousin. Everyone seemed normal. Twenty to thirty relatives were there and I could sense no hints of aggression or hostility. Suddenly I heard my wife yell, "I can't see, I can't see." I turned to look and saw her holding her face. Someone had hit her in the eye. In that brief moment, mayhem broke out. My father came running toward me, swinging as hard as he could. I ducked and he missed. On the way up, I swung with my right arm and clearly hit him, with a clean upper cut, in the side of the face. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see two young girls, ages 10 and 12 come running toward me. I took aim and hit one in the chest. Without thinking, I reached into a bucket and pulled out a handful of corn. I had nailed my Dad with mashed potatoes, the first girl with peas, and now corn was sailing into the face of the ten-year-old. I had forgotten about the hills of Tennessee - this was fun! I turned to see if my wife was ok. She had wiped the flour out of her eyes and was running toward my Uncle with a handful of soggy cheerios. At the end of the fight everyone was a mess. Kernels of corn were stuck in people's ears; peas were in their hair and down their shirts; and everyone was laughing as they talked about their great successes in the fight. My cousin had banana pudding dripping from her head and eyes. You couldn't recognize my Aunt who had a food mask of mashed potatoes, tomatoes, pudding and flour. My brother stood laughing at everyone else, when in fact, Top Roman noodles dangled from his ears and mustache. This family fight was very different from most family fights.

First, even though it ended messy, it ended well. Next, this fight was no more than over, when I heard people planning next year's fight. They had experienced a success that came out of battle and that success told them "the next battle can be even more successful if they approached it right".

But most importantly, this family fight seemed to take the participants into an area where they enjoyed one another rather than hated one another.

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