Mass shootings
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Sean of the South
Sean Dietrich
“God help us,” the old man in the nursing home muttered.
He was watching TV, sitting in his big, comfy, pleather chair. A plate of untouched food sat on his hospital tray. The carrots were cold. The turkey had gone to be with Jesus hours ago.
The TV was showing footage of the latest mass shooting.
This shooting happened in a Michigan church. Of all places. An LDS church. Four dead. Eight injured.
“Why’re they happening in churches?” the old man pleaded with the TV.
The victims were in a sacred space. They were worshipping. Fellowshipping. Their kids were safe in the nursery. People were singing. Praying. People died wearing their Sunday best.
“God help us all.”
I had come to this nursing home to visit a friend’s father today. But as it happened, the mood had fallen due to the current headlines.
“We feel the news in here,” said a nurse. “When tragedy happens in the outside world, our residents feel it deeply because we stay connected to the media in here.”
Three elderly women were sitting in the lobby, watching television. The women reminded me that the shooting in Grand Blanc, Michigan, was not the only mass shooting that occurred yesterday.
There were actually three.
A shooting in Eagle Pass, Texas – two killed, six injured, inside a casino. Another shooting in New Orleans – one killed, three injured, while walking on Bourbon Street.
And the day before yesterday? Three more mass shootings. In Southport, North Carolina, at a bar – three dead, eight injured. Raleigh – four wounded. Alexandria, Louisiana – four wounded.
I ask what the women think about all this.
“Things like this didn’t happen when we were kids,” said the spokeswoman. “I think it’s because we saw each other face-to-face more often. There were no computer screens to hide behind. But today we have devices, and we can totally block out people altogether. We forget how to treat them.”
Another woman had another perspective.
“No. This stuff has always been happening, since the dawn of time. Nothing new under the sun. We just have more cameras now.”
Another woman offers a different take.
“It’s because we glorify the shooters, the media does. All these shooters want is their fifteen minutes of spotlight.”
But there was one older woman in the corner, who was not watching television. She was just staring out the window.
At first, I thought she was asleep. But as I approached, I could see she was watching a hummingbird at the feeder outside the window. The bird was hovering. And she was smiling.
“What about you, ma’am?” I asked. “Do you have anything to say about the current problems facing us today?”
She ignored the question and nodded at the bird. “Can you see that little bird?”
I told her I could.
“I wonder who takes care of that little bird,” she remarked.
I shrugged.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I suppose he takes care of himself?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“And that right there is our biggest problem,” she said.
God help us. God help us all.
