On The Cliff with Memories

Sometimes something happens in our lives that imprints in our memory no matter how many years pass or how big of an event it happened to be. We go back to those memories and think about them over and over. It's what a person who has been traumatized does, often when they don't even share with anyone what happened during that trauma. Or maybe it was a collective moment in history and you remember where you were on the day that X happened. But it's there, in the back of our mind, able to recall. It often becomes fuzzy with years and you question if you saw what you think you saw.  
That's what happened in 1993 when I attended the nail-biting, anxiety-ridden Sylvester Stallone movie Cliffhanger at a theater on the East side of Manhattan. Something occurred that I have discussed throughout the years with the friend I went to the film with (as well as a few other friends). Both of us had the same "icky" feeling after the film and spent the past 20+ years discussing it at times.
While watching the film, a man was sitting across from us with a ten year old girl and a younger boy (I'm estimating the ages). The girl was sitting on his lap (seemed too old to be on his lap), and we were uncomfortable with how the man was touching her. The children didn't seem as if they were being held against their will, but my years of growing up with a mom in early childhood education caused my eyes to continue to look towards the three as the man would touch the children throughout the film. Now, fathers are allowed to show love towards their children and it's nice to see a dad taking his kids to the movies on what looked like a divorced dad's evening with the kids. But even as I recall it all these years later, the images may not be totally in focus, but the feeling of disgust is there.
Should I have said something? Do we speak up in instances like this? Are all the people coming out of the closet now with #MeToo challenged due to the fact they didn't speak up at the time? Sometimes we don't speak up. We don't think it's our place or we see something else that makes us assume we were wrong.
When we walked out of the film, a limo was waiting outside. A well-known NYC business man who had gone through a public divorce walked out with those two kids that I had stared at in the darkness of the film and got into the limo and drove away. I told myself I obviously had been wrong with what I  believed I witnessed through the flicker of a film. A man like that wouldn't ever touch children inappropriately. 
The 48 year old man that I am today wishes he could whisper into that 24 year old's ear that sometimes things really are what they seem.