When I signed off last night, I intended to write something very different today. How was I to know, how was anyone to know that the day would instead be torn from our hands, by yet another twisted and sadistic boy-man, this one leveling hell upon a sold out movie theatre?
It was my son who told me, waking me with the news at 7:30 this morning. There’s a certain irony in that– he had begged me to go to the premiere of The Dark Knight Rises here in our own town. I couldn’t find a way to tell him yes. He doesn’t drive yet and I said it was unfair of him to expect his father and me to stay up to all hours ferrying him to and from the movies. The truth is that I’m not yet comfortable with my kid out and about late at night. Time will come soon enough that I have to accept it, but for now I can still say no.
When I think of the parents in Aurora, Colorado this morning it is about as much as I can bear. While I don’t understand why it took law enforcement the better part of the day to identify the dead, families knew– or began to figure it out much sooner. Those who made it out alive were accounted for. Those who did not were not accounted for. A guy kicking off his 27th birthday celebration with the movie premiere. A talented sports journalist, she who had narrowly missed injury at the Eaton Centre murders last month; a Springfield, Ohio man who died trying to shield his girlfriend. Tomorrow will bring more of the dead, and their stories, and the awful price extracted from all who loved them.
What of the killer? Why even mention his name. No doubt part of his intention in his meticulous plot involved a quest for fame, for notoriety in an otherwise beige life. I don’t intend to contribute to that, now or in the future.
As for this, there is time enough in the world for things so mundane as usually fills these pages.
Tonight, instead– just click here, turn it up loud and close your eyes. Let the music wash over you, in homage to the twelve dead in Aurora, Colorado. Godspeed, all of them.