Like many, I fear I’ve become anesthetized when it comes to mass shootings.
I watch the images on the news not only with a sadness but with a numbness that eventually goes away much like the Novocain administered by my dentist. That is, until the next shooting occurs.
I’m not a gun control guy but I also don’t understand why citizens need to arm themselves with assault rifles. I don’t have the answer. Maybe that’s why I’ve become numb to the shootings.
But this week, just as the horror of Monday’s mass murder in Illinois began to fade, I read two things that made my heart hurt.
The first was a letter to the editor by a man named Jay Post of Indialantic. He described a recent public gathering at a park he attended with his wife. It was a perfect afternoon filled with food, music, sunshine, friends he hadn’t seen for a while and a spot in the shade under a tree.
But what troubled the cancer survivor was the first conversation he said he took part in. It wasn’t about the music or the weather or how nice it was to see people in person again. No, instead the conversation involved coming up with a plan and looking around for places to hide should a maniac start shooting at the crowd.
It wasn’t the first time he’d had this “active shooter” conversation.
His letter reminded me of a fun exercise I used to run through with my wife and children. Everywhere we went, be it the movies, a cruise, a restaurant, theme park, etc., we always took turns pointing out how we would survive a zombie outbreak. We had a lot of laughs thinking of inventive ways to make weapons or find food and most of all, a means of escape or a place to hide.
Jay Post was doing the same thing. The only difference was his involved a real threat, something that’s been happening all too frequently. Mine was rooted in the world of science fiction and fantasy.
Have you ever gone to a restaurant with a cop? They always sit facing the front door and never with their back to it. It’s not hard to figure out why.
This is the world we live in now.
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The second thing I read was an article published in USA Today that my wife emailed me. The headline, a pitiful commentary on how much we put up with as a nation, read: “Crackling explosions or singular pops: How to tell the difference between fireworks and gunshots.”
The well-written piece contained useful tips from experts on how to differentiate between the two. The sound of fireworks, one expert said, is usually accompanied by a whistle, a crackling sound, a sizzle and sporadic rhythm.
The expert went on to say that the sound of gunfire is “a single sound” caused by the explosion of powder making a bullet blast out of the gun’s barrel. He likened it to the sound of a car backfiring — no sizzle, no crackle, no rhythm, no whistle and no colorful payoff in the sky.
In the case of the Illinois parade and far too many others, it is simply the sound of death.
The fact that we need articles explaining this to us or that we need to have a survival plan in the event of an active shooter at a picnic in the park is nothing short of surreal. Surreal and awfully sad.
What the hell are we doing?
Contact Torres at 321-242-3684 or at jtorres@floridatoday.com. You can follow him on Twitter @johnalbertorres or on Facebook at facebook.com/FTjohntorres.
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