Long time back, living in Cape Town, South Africa, I was seated in our flat, relaxing on a Saturday afternoon; when I heard screams from next door through the open window. I ran out and into next door, where my mate and his wife lived. I found my mate’s wife prone on the floor of the living room, with my mate, normally a placid, easy-going man; kneeling across her with his hands around her neck, strangling her. I kicked him in the head, stunning him, and rescued his wife; leading her into our own flat, where my wife comforted her as I returned to confront my mate, who of course was blind drunk. I belted him again with the butt of his revolver; hauled him into the bedroom, and laid him on the bed to sleep it off. His wife, tearful but grateful, explained, ‘Harry can drink beer all day long, and you get nothing but a lazy smile: let him start on the brandy, and he loses all control’.
I tackled him the next morning, and he asked me what I was talking about, as he could not remember anything.
So I can understand the situation when an 85 year-old father has to shoot his son, in self-defence!