Back then, my father was often gone through the week as an engineer on pipeline projects and mom was left with two preschool aged boys: my brother and me. The book, lauded as one of the first “non-fiction” novels, details the murder of four members of the Clutter family in 1959 Holcomb, Kansas. Capote explores the victims’ lives and deeply profiles the murderers: Richard Hickock and Perry Smith.
You may have seen any of the three movies inspired by this book: In Cold Blood (1967) starring Robert Blake as Perry Smith and Scott Wilson as Richard Hickock or Capote (2005) starring Philip Seymour Hoffman or Infamous (2006) with Daniel Craig and Sandra Bullock.
But, back to mom: reading the account of the randomness of the victim selection and the brutal cruelty served upon the Clutter family triggered fearful speculation that our house could be similarly selected and our fates equally doomed. In fairness to mom, I’m pretty certain this wasn’t a major phobia, but the randomness and cruelty of the crime – encountered in the 1960s – was so uncommon that its affect was soul shaking.
I read In Cold Blood in the early 90s at mom’s suggestion. She shared her reaction to the book from 30 years prior and I expected to be equally shaken. Not so much. By the 1990s, society had met “Son of Sam”, John Wayne Gacy, the “Unibomber” and countless other sick bastards. The daily newspapers had calloused my sensibilities such that Mr. Capote’s opus wasn’t so scary.
Which brings me to today: twelve innocents and another sick bastard died today at the Washington, DC Navy Yard. According to reports, Aaron Alexis (aka, sick bastard), a 34 year old contractor to the military, started shooting random victims just after 8 am. The cable news channels gave whole day blanket coverage, the Washington Nationals postponed tonight’s baseball game and the Senate punched out early.
Unlike after Columbine, Virginia Tech, Aurora, Fort Hood and, of course, Sandy Hook – no one I encountered today was stopped aghast. I met with two students at a pub for dinner and the televisions were tuned to ESPN. Diners chatted up their day and I admit not having a knot in my stomach.
Are we getting used to this? Is this a new normal? In December, I wrote of the children slaughtered at Sandy Hook and that post has, by almost double, been the most read piece I’ve proffered (Link to post). The post’s title “Unfathomable is the new black” was meant somewhat sardonically tongue-in-cheek. Instead, I’m afraid it may be accurate.
I can report that after some reflection, I am sickened, saddened, and angry about today’s shooting. Twelve people won’t be home with their families tonight. Holidays will pass without their presence. Folks, let’s not ever get used to this.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual
light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful
departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
