LARGESSE OF STUPIDITY, INCOMPETENCE, LIES, AND DECEIT

Those of us who have lost loved-ones in school shooting can only find peace and begin to move on when our questions are answered. Then and only then will we begin to find anything remotely approaching “peace.” Only when the largesse of stupidity, incompetence, lies, and deceit is exposed will peace be remotely within reach.

We will find peace when those in authority in Virginia who have the answers find the courage to tell the truth; when they have the backbone to put their careers and their pursuit of personal enrichment aside and face the reality of who and what they are; the reality of what they have been sworn to defend and uphold—truth and justice.

Judge Moore, the judge in Peter Odighiuwa’s case, early on granted a defense motion to bar Commonwealth witnesses from calling for the death penalty. The judge said, “(the) victims’ opinion as to what the sentence should be is not relevant.” The Commonwealth’s Attorney did not object. If I understand the judge’s words correctly, the family of Angela Denise Dales had no right to address the jury. Even Odighizuwa’s defense attorney expressed surprise that no objection was raised.

The funny thing is that I don’t remember any member of Angie’s family abdicating the right to Sheila Tolliver or Judge Moore to decide when and where we would voice our opinion about what penalty Odighizuwa would receive.

When the whole legal ordeal began, Angie’s father said to Ms. Tolliver, “I hope when this is all over and I see you on the street, you will be able to look me in the eyes.” Peter Odighizuwa’s trial is over and Sheila Tolliver never looked Danny Dales in the face whey they passed on the street. She never looked him in the face right up until the day he died in January 2013.

How can we move on, how can we forgive when at least one professor at the Appalachian School of Law uses his bully pulpit to belittle the Dales family’s effort to seek justice in a court of law. He did this in front of a class that included a shooting victim; he ridiculed and belittled the victims’ attempts to find restitution and justice through the courts. (To be continued)

MISGUIDED

Well meaning, but misguided, Christian friends bring their faith into conversations as if to nudge me closer to their belief. A belief that they mistakenly believe will help us get over our anguish. One friend, in discussing the war on terrorism, suggested that God is punishing this country. She is sure, however, that he will step in at just the right time (implicitly when we have learned from our erring ways) to put this country on the right track. We will be saved, as a people and as a nation. God, she assures me is all-knowing and all-loving, and there is a reason for everything. If God is so loving, so all knowing, and has a reason for everything, then please tell me the reason Angie died. Once we know the reason, we will be able to start the healing. This is a fairly simple and straight-forward request.

When I asked her, “Where was this all-knowing and all-loving God on 16 January 2002?” she answered in vague generalities. She reminds me of people who survive an accident where others are killed; the survivors often praise God, saying there was a reason for their good fortune. My question is what was the reason for the bad fortune of those who died? If god so loved you that he saved you and not others, where is your Christian compassion for the families of those he did not save, those left behind?

Implicit in these words is that those who died, deserved to die because they had done something wrong, they were being punished. Explain this to me—give us the specifics, the evidence, behind your reasoning. Or was it that they were somehow less worthy? Again, tell us why and how. Had they done something wrong? If so, tell us what, so we can learn, grow, and understand. Had they done something to deserve their fate? If so tell us what. How did God make the decision who would live and who would die? I’d really like to know how God applies these rules. I never get an adequate answer.

Other well meaning, but misinformed friends tell us it is time to move on with our lives. That may be true and all Angie’s family and friends wish they could move on. But, far too many questions remain to be answered for us to begin a healing process. That is the simple, but difficult truth.

Another painfully superficial attempt at condolences is the phrase, “We know where she is.” This incredibly cruel attempt to comfort is one of the most aggravating sentences that can be said by any human being to someone who has lost a loved one. It is usually said with a supercilious smile. I want to respond by saying, “If you know where she is then please tell me where! I don’t care how far; I’ll go get her. Tell us where, her father and I will go get her, so will her brother, so will our son David. We miss her so much! We are all so upset; the pain has been so unbearable; please tell us where she is and we’ll go get her!” These sentences are not meant to comfort the victim’s family, they are meant to comfort the person saying them.

These comments allow the speaker to sleep; he or she doesn’t have to examine what may have caused the murder. These comments allow individuals to avoid thinking. They can avoid the truth, can avoid coming to grips with reality. These innocuous sentences are wrapped in self-delusion; these words allow the person who utters them to wallow in self-righteousness. These sentences are meant for the people saying them, not for the families of the victims. Once you begin to question at the causes of a tragedy you open Pandora’s box—most people are not prepared to deal with these questions, much less the answers.

To those who rely on God’s will for everything; those who say everything is part of a grand plan, then where is the guilt, where is the need for punishment? If everything is part of a grand plan, why not sit back and go along for the ride? Why do anything? Why bother with things such as reason, thought, and logic?

The absurd extreme that follows from this line of reasoning is that no one is accountable for anything because it is all part of God’s will. Ok, then let’s start by doing away with the whole legal system. Why do we need it? I’m confused by this preordained logic.

Another superficial attempt to console is “Let the healing begin.” These four words are usually heard following some large-scale tragedy or killing: Like Columbine, Oklahoma City, or the World Trade Center. These words are often accompanied by another meaningless and thoughtless cliché: “closure”. Those who utter these words have no idea what “closure” or “healing” really is or means to the survivors. These people don’t seem to realize that there can never be a true “closure” or “healing” in the strictest sense of the words. In fact, there are only brief period of relative calm in our lives before the horrifying reality closes in again. Tragedies leave permanent scars, some of which never heal; they may fade and time may help soften the pain, but the wounds never “heal.”

It is said that the line between humor and tragedy is thin; indeed it is. The humorist George Carlin put it succinctly when he said, after one of these tragedies we should say, “Let the scarring begin.”

A truly thoughtful expression of compassion and condolence came from a student in a class I was teaching for the Massachusetts State Highway Patrol. What she said was simple and to the point: “I hope you find peace.” Those words are so simple, so clear and they say it all. Those words helped.

A truly profound expression of support and sympathy would be to speak out against gun violence. (To be continued)

A VETERAN'S WIDOW

As the Dales and Cariens families continued to deal with the murder, another especially painful example of the shabby treatment of victims came to my attention.

I was working at a major military base in the Midwest. A veteran of World War II, who had been held and tortured in a Japanese prisoner of war camp, died leaving his wife bankrupt. His widow has been left destitute because the care given him in the veteran’s hospital was so poor that she had to remove him to a private facility. His condition improved, but the costs were so high that when he died, his widow had lost everything. She is bankrupt and, if it were not for her children, would be destitute. I could not help but wonder how many American families are in the same situation as a result of the wounds and injuries in Iraq. How service men and woman have been wounded in Iraq and receive inadequate treatment; how many have given everything for this country and their families go bankrupt and lose their homes?

The family wrote sixteen members of the House of Representatives about their plight: not one answered. The woman’s son is in the military and is afraid to make too much of a fuss or to go public because he fears reprisal or retaliation. Now, let me get this straight…

We go into to Iraq to bring democracy and justice to a long-suffering people. We ask young men and women to risk their lives for this cause. Will they be treated the same way the government appears to have treated the wounded for earlier wars? Once the beat of the Iraq war drums dies down what will the injured and wounded have to look forward to? Inadequate care and their families left penniless.

All of us, everyone who knew and loved Angie are doomed to wonder from now through eternity asking “Why?” We will never be able to fully recover from this tragedy, we will never get a satisfactory explanation or justification for this brutality. Each one of us will, at some point, in our own way say our silent goodbye. Our lives have been broken, and even if the pieces are put together again, the cracks will remain and one critical piece will be missing. The scares will never completely heal.

How can we say goodbye and move on when so many questions remain unanswered? How can the families of the victims of any shooting tragedy or the families of our military men and women who have died because of lies ever recover?

We want to wash away the anguish we feel so deeply, the hatred, the anger, and the pain. But hard as we try, we cannot. The wounds are too deep. We know one thing, we will not be torn apart by our rage, but neither will we go away silently. We will continue to seek answers. All my family can say is, “Angie you have slipped away, but we will not forget.” (To be continued)

INSENSITIVITY EVERYWHERE

Sue

Some eight or nine months after Angie’s murder, I was teaching a writing course in northern Virginia. Sue, who had been in one of my writing courses, stopped me in the hall during a break and asked if she could see me at lunch. This was not uncommon because often students who have been in one of my classes earlier will bring me their work and ask me for a quick edit before they hand it in to their boss.

Sue indicated she had heard of our loss and wanted to express her sympathy. Then she told me she had lost her only son, Brad, in a car accident on August 3, 1996. He was sixteen years old. The several years I had known Sue I always felt there was sadness about her, but I never knew why, I never thought it was my place to ask. Now I knew.

Sue said that she and her husband regularly placed flowers along the road where the accident occurred, but someone had called the police to complain that the flowers were distracting; adding, according to the police, that the person who called said, “It is time for the family to move on.” I could feel the anger start to grow in me.

A very apologetic policeman told her that he had no choice but to ask that Sue and her husband stop putting the flowers along the side of the road. The Virginia Department of Highways removes flowers and memorials if they prove dangerous or if someone complains.

The sad truth is that just when you think you have seen the worst in human nature, when you think people have sunk about as low as they can go, you find there are some people lower than you ever imagined—you hear about someone making this type of complaint to the Virginia Department of Highways.

Almost pleading, Sue said, “If only Brad had had a love child.” Some part of him that we could see and touch would help. During the first year after his death she kept waiting, praying for some young woman to come forward with a child. A love child that would be part of Brad, something, someone she could hold on to—but that never happened.

I could not help but think how lucky we are to have Rebecca; Rebecca helps us move on with our lives—she gives us hope. For Angie’s parents, Rebecca is their reason for living. There are so many things about Rebecca that are her mother.

Rebecca and Angie were inseparable; they look a great deal alike, talk alike and think alike. If there is a God, then Rebecca is truly the gift from that God.

Sue asked me if I would edit a letter they wrote to their local newspaper in Warrenton. The answer was “of course.”

Memorial Justified

This letter is in remembrance of our son Brad B., who lost his life on Route 211 six years ago. We have continually placed flowers on that spot since the accident, but a few weeks ago the Virginia Department of Transportation asked us to remove a wreath and refrain from putting flowers there in the future. Someone had complained that the wreaths were a distraction and that the practice had gone on long enough.

We find it difficult to believe that the flowers or wreath could distract or offend anyone. Perhaps the person who made the complaint has never lost a child or a loved one. The placing of flowers was our way of saying to our son, “We have not forgotten you and never will.”

Time has helped heal our pain, but we miss Brad, our son. We can see his smile and feel his hugs in our memories. Everyday we have had to deal with the terrible fact that he is gone. We pass by this spot going to and from work and the flowers and wreath helped us feel closer to him.

We have always hoped that when someone sees flowers by the roadside for a remembrance of a loved one, they will take a minute to think about their driving and realize how quickly accidents happen.

Life is so precious and someone you love can be taken in just a few seconds. It is our hope and prayer that others who find solace through placing flowers at the site of their loss will not be asked to stop the practice.

Sue and Jeff F.

The controversy in Virginia over whether the state should pay for and erect roadside memorials to those killed in traffic accident opened a window on another part of the sorry state of affairs in the old Dominion.

The program to erect roadside memorials will cost the state no more than $250,000, according to estimates by Virginia Department of Transportation officials. The Washington Times reported that one transportation board official, Harry T. Lester of Virginia Beach, said that $250.00 a memorial “sounds like a lot of money to me… Why should we be doing this for free?” I sincerely hope Mr. Lester was being quoted incorrectly or out of context.

In February 2003, Virginia’s Commonwealth Transportation Board did vote to erect roadside markers in memory of those who die on the state’s highways. The markers will replace those put along the road by the families and will remain standing for one year.

The press quoted C. Frank Gee, the Transportation Department’s chief engineer of operations, as saying, “We’re not going to be judgmental… We’re trying to send a message about safe driving.” In other words, the state will erect the memorial in memory of the victims as well as those who cause the accidents. At last, some sanity in government! At last, some recognition that those left behind are victims too, victims with rights! (To be continued)

SAYING GOODBYE

Saying goodbye is so very difficult. It is next to impossible to move beyond a tragedy such as the Appalachian School of Law shooting on January 16, 2002. How can we say goodbye when everywhere we turn we see the same bureaucratic bungling and insensitivity in dealing with human lives, yet say goodbye is what we had to begin doing on the 19^th of January 2002. On that terrible January day the gray clouds were heavy over southwest Virginia—almost as if we could reach out and touch them. It was as if heaven and earth were coming together to mourn. The mist mingled with the tears on our faces, tears that have yet to dry.

Angie’s Funeral

The funeral home was packed to overflowing and not all the flowers could be brought in for the ceremony. The strains of “The Love Theme” from Titanic played in the background. That day, in that setting, we began bit by bit to rebuild. But it has been very difficult to pull our lives back together because of the lack of sensitivity to tragedy, a lack of sensitivity that appears to know no bounds. It is next to impossible to say goodbye and find peace when everyday there are pictures of young American men and women who have died or been maimed in Iraq because of half-truths, bureaucratic mistakes, and incompetence on the part of elected and appointed officials.

Danny Dales told me it is particularly difficult for him to see those faces. He sees faces with the same dreams, the promise and the gusto for life; he thinks of the parents who are in agony. A friend of his lost a son in Iraq. Danny told me—his face flushed and his eyes full of tears—all I want is to be there to listen to the father’s grief, to say I understand; your dreams, you hopes have died—there is an emptiness that nothing can fill. Much of what you live for has been taken away from you; I understand, I am here if you need me. I understand.

Everywhere we went we found people with similar stories; stories of callous treatment and downright dishonesty when dealing with the victims of a tragedy. (To be continued)