Five Days Later, What Have We Learned?

It’s been 5 days since the massacre at Virginia Tech and we’ve learned a great deal since then. We know now the name of the shooter and because of the material he sent to NBC we have heard and read his delusional thoughts. We’ve seen the pictures and heard about the lives of those who were killed and wounded that day.

We’ve also been debating some of the events of this past week. Most concerning for me was the packet Cho Seung-Hui sent to NBC. They rightly forwarded it along to the FBI but not before the copied it and broadcasted it (which was, of course, picked up and broadcasted by nearly everyone else). The executives at NBC say they struggled before showing clips of the tape but I have a hard time sympathizing with them for their struggle. Had
they forwarded it to the FBI without keeping a copy we never would have heard of it and I don’t think we would be the poorer for it. Though they don’t say so I have to believe part of their decision was based on the fear that Cho had also sent packets to other media outlets.

We’ve also been talking about mental illness and how to deal with adult sufferers. We hear that Mr. Cho came to the attention of the police and mental health professionals because he was stalking young women. Unfortunately until April 16th he did not pose a danger to himself or others and there appears there was nothing anyone could do. I wish there would have been a way to predict this level of violence but we are not there yet. In generations past we could have institutionalized someone like this but we also institutionalized many people who did not belong in custody. This is perhaps a call to continue to learn about mental illness.

I also believe this is a call to re-examine laws about who may purchase and possess a gun. There is some debate over whether or not Mr. Cho bought his guns legally given his history, but even if he was there was no way to check on his mental health background. I guess the Commonwealth of Virginia depends on mentally ill people being honest and up front.

Still grieving for Blacksburg

The stories have been coming in for a few days and we have more information but I’m not sure we have any answers. We know the shooter’s name and the names of the victims. Today NBC received a tape, several pictures, and a videotape and now we know the words of the shooter.

But how do we make sense of something that is in the end….senseless? There’s nothing we can discover that will make this sensible or acceptable. But we also need to understand that there’s nothing we can discover that will make this preventable. The little news I’ve seen about this appears to center on either remembrances or security issues. Yesterday on the Today Show I watched Clint Van Zant talk about how to keep yourself safe and what the police should have done. Problem is ol’ Clint runs Van Zant Associates, an organization that assesses threats. Hard to image he’d say “These things are random and there’s no point in worrying about it.”

Let us continue to pray for all those who died.

The Streets of Heaven Are Too Crowded Tonight

News came today of the shooting at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia. As I write this at 7:30 pm my time (10:30 pm on the East Coast) there is much we don’t know; we do know that 33 people have died in two separate shootings. We think there was one shooter and he committed suicide. Names are being held until family is notified.

The strangest part of this is that two people were killed in a dorm (West Ambler Johnson); two hours later 31 more died at Norris Hall. If one shooter was responsible for both shootings, what was he doing (let alone thinking) for those two hours?

My nephew Nate is a sophomore at Old Dominion University; it’s in a different part of the state but I needed to talk with him today. He has several friends at Tech but has heard from most everyone. I have to believe there are parents all over Virginia and beyond who are praying they don’t hear the doorbell tonight. My prayers are with them.

A Good Day for Baseball, and more…

Today is the 60th anniversary of the 1st game Jackie Robinson played for the Brooklyn Dodgers. I can’t imagine there’s anyone who doesn’t know this but he was the first black player in the modern era. Taking nothing away from the heroism of Mr. Robinson, credit must also be given to the Dodger’s owner Branch Rickey. The seeds of this action were sewn in 1904 when Mr. Rickey was coaching baseball at Ohio Wesleyan University: the catcher, Charles Thomas, was black and was denied a room in the hotel where the team was staying. When he had to tell the player he couldn’t stay at the hotel the player was rubbing his skin and said “If only I could make it white.” It took 43 years to make this right but he never forgot. God bless both Jackie and Branch

Thoughts on “Nappy Headed Hos”

It’s been in the news all week and it’s hardly a surprise but America can no longer listen to Don Imus refer to the Rutgers womens’ basketball team as “nappy headed hos.” I’ve only listened to quick snatches of his show as I can’t listen to him for long and I for one will not miss him.

But he raises an interesting issue on the state of racism in this country. First, let’s put to bed forever the “I am not a racist” plea. If he weren’t a racist at some level it never would have occurred to him to use that phrase. This dismissive characterization of the women on the team really does show that Imus thinks of all black women that way. But on a deeper and more disturbing level, Imus has been popular because he’s been a voice for the racism in the country. Like Trent Lott and countless others before him, Imus has been able to get away with statements like this because nobody else was listening. If his words had been directed at a more general audience he’d still have his show. By personalizing this in narrowing his attack to the Rutgers womens’ basketball team Imus crossed a line. Suddenly the “nappy headed hos” weren’t all black women, it was Coach Stringer and her players: Katie Adams, Matee Ajavon, Essence Carson, Dee Dee Jernigan, Rashidat Junaid, Myia McCurdy, Epiphanny Prince, Judith Brittany Ray, Kia Vaughn, and Heather Zurich.

The true mark of progress in this country won’t be when people like Don Imus are fired because of the outcry, it will be when people like Don Imus aren’t on the air because nobody is listening to him.

Remembering Kurt

We received word today about the death of author Kurt Vonnegut. Most people my age (ie, late boomers) know the name and many of us actually read his work. When I was in high school I read Slaughterhouse Five (or the Children’s Crusade) and later Cat’s Cradle. Kurt had a fairly dark view of the world that fit with me back in high school. He was a German POW and witnessed the carpetbombing of Dresden in 1945. I’d say that gives him street cred to be dark. I may go back and re-read Slaughterhouse Five. A few years ago through hospice I met someone who went to high school with Kurt; I’m sorry Kurt and I never met. Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time…

A Happy Homecoming

On my post for March 2nd I wrote about Rob, the husband of my coworker Lili. He is in the Navy and was in Afghanistan in late February when he came down with some kind of massive infection. He was pretty critical for a while and we weren’t sure there would be a happy ending. The combination of hard work, the dedication of many people, and the prayers of many more, Rob is now home. Yesterday Rob dropped by our team meeting; there are no words to describe how good it was to see him. Lili also gave me a magnet and a bumper sticker she picked up at Union Station in Washington DC that said this:

  • Tank of Gas: $100
  • Prescription Refill: $500
  • Cost of the War in Iraq: $300,000,000,000
  • New President in 2009: PRICELESS

Welcome home Rob. We’re still praying for you.

When she was born, William Howard Taft was President…

I got a call over the weekend from my mother about Aunt Aldea. Aunt Aldea is the younger sister of my maternal grandmother and is the last of her generation. She was born in December 1910 and is still with us. The last few years have not been a friend to her as she is now living in a nursing home; she lives with congestive heart failure (CHF), renal (kidney) failure, anorexia, and arteriosclerosis. Because of the limited blood flow she has a necrotic toe that will turn into gangrene if not treated. If it hasn’t happened already a vascular surgeon will examine her to see what can be done. As someone who has worked for hospice for over 9 years, my response is for the love of God, let her go but I’m not the one who decides. The doctors are having a hard time with her because even the tests they want to do are too invasive for her, but they hope to have a plan later in the week.

Aunt Aldea’s husband (Uncle Bill) died on January 9, 1981. Between his death and funeral Aunt Aldea made a dress for her to wear at the funeral. This says as much about her as anything. It’s hard to hear that such a strong woman is going through this, and I pray she passes with dignity and peace. You can see pictures of her here and here.

Reflections on the Empty Tomb

I’m writing this on the evening of Easter Sunday. We celebrated Easter at church last night; the mass began at 10PM and ended this morning a little before 1AM. This Lent has been difficult for me in that I haven’t been able to get a handle on it. At the beginning of the mass as I watched the lighting of the fire I realized that perhaps that was the point. We see Lent through the eyes of Jesus and the 40 days he spent in the desert before his entry into Jerusalem; during that time he was presented with certain temptations (presumably including the temptation to forget the whole thing and fade into obscurity). In a sense to try to “do Lent” is to miss the point. The inability to control my experience of Lent became for me exactly the desert experience it was supposed to be.

The most poignant part of the mass for me was the beginning. The Easter fire was lit at 10PM and the image of light out of darkness was clear. As I watched the fire I thought that the mystery of Easter is …. well, a mystery. OK, I know that sounds like a horrible cliché but we (I) spend so much time trying to understand what is simply to be believed in all of its shrouding. Jesus died, rose from the dead, and has promised that same resurrection for us all. I don’t know what that means, and I work in a profession where I can’t count the number of people I’ve seen die. I believe what I believe not because it makes sense, but because it doesn’t make sense. More later…

If you’re not outraged you’re not paying attention

I read an article a few days ago and this is the first chance I’ve had to talk about it. Our local newspaper The San Diego Union-Tribune ran an article yesterday on what happens to the remains of our fallen troops when they are returned to the United States. It tells the story of Army SPC. Matthew Holley who was killed November 15, 2005 in Iraq. When his body was flown back to San Diego his parents found that most of those killed are placed in the cargo area of commercial planes. On arrival back home the caskets are moved by forklift to a cargo warehouse where the family can pick them up. There are no words to describe the lack of dignity here and Matthew’s father John has been working with local Congressman Duncan Hunter to pass the Holley provision. It mandates that these fallen men and women are transported home by military aircraft and are met by a military honor guard. The honor guard will escort the casket from the plane to the mortuary. I’m grateful that they are finally being given the dignity they deserve, but who in God’s sake thought that flying them home in cargo holds and unloading them by forklift was acceptable?. This is (for me) just one more example of this administration’s hubris. They have created a climate where they believe they can do what they wish and nobody will question it. Using commercial aircraft and forklifts are cheaper than military escort and it allows them to fight “on the cheap,” much like the ongoing rape of the VA budget. It also shows once again that if you are no longer useful, you no longer exist.