Missing and Murdered Children
I woke up this morning (Wednesday) and ventured out on the streets of Tucson, Arizona to a community swamped in leaflets with the face of a lovely little girl missing, and presumed kidnapped.
Another one.
I am beyond alarmed, shocked and angry over the continued stream of little girls and boys falling into shallow graves along the American country side, slaughtered by psychopaths, mothers, fathers, "boyfriends" of their mothers.
It seems open season on helpless children.
The past six months the platoon of missing kids has boggled me into insensibility - the faces and names blur, I cannot keep up with them. This morning's Tucson newspaper holds news of another missing child, the discovery of another grave, and a picture of a grieving mother and I'm not sure of any of the three stories are connected.
The Internet carries yet another story of a precious young boy, also over the wall, missing somewhere else. I forgive myself that I can no longer keep track of the dead, mangled and missing, the geography of the blood, the tears and horror.
My two daughters, now in their 40's, neither having any children of their own, are on their own, one in Tucson, the other in Chicago. Both have experienced violence, neither have kept in touch with me. Unfortunately, I cannot offer assistance, compassion or support. I grieve for the parents of the lost children, and I am infuriated at the callous mentality of the obvious deranged souls out there mutilating and killing helpless children.
BUT, having ruminated over the death penalty, I can no longer support the state taking a life - for any reason. Standing outside the remains of the Murrah Building, along the decorated fence in Oklahoma City, my late wife and I were drawn to tears over the outpouring of sympathy from the parents as they strung toys, teddy bears and items their children (killed in the blast) had at home.
She and I, tears on our face, read the birthday cards to their dead kids, touched the teddy bears tucked into little blankets fastened to the chain link fence, and we pondered what to do with the culprits.
Janet said, " we ought to lock up the men in a building and tell them we're going to blow it up some time between now and their 65th birthday. It could happen at any moment, just don't tell them when."
She was a lawyer.
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Another one.
I am beyond alarmed, shocked and angry over the continued stream of little girls and boys falling into shallow graves along the American country side, slaughtered by psychopaths, mothers, fathers, "boyfriends" of their mothers.
It seems open season on helpless children.
The past six months the platoon of missing kids has boggled me into insensibility - the faces and names blur, I cannot keep up with them. This morning's Tucson newspaper holds news of another missing child, the discovery of another grave, and a picture of a grieving mother and I'm not sure of any of the three stories are connected.
The Internet carries yet another story of a precious young boy, also over the wall, missing somewhere else. I forgive myself that I can no longer keep track of the dead, mangled and missing, the geography of the blood, the tears and horror.
My two daughters, now in their 40's, neither having any children of their own, are on their own, one in Tucson, the other in Chicago. Both have experienced violence, neither have kept in touch with me. Unfortunately, I cannot offer assistance, compassion or support. I grieve for the parents of the lost children, and I am infuriated at the callous mentality of the obvious deranged souls out there mutilating and killing helpless children.
BUT, having ruminated over the death penalty, I can no longer support the state taking a life - for any reason. Standing outside the remains of the Murrah Building, along the decorated fence in Oklahoma City, my late wife and I were drawn to tears over the outpouring of sympathy from the parents as they strung toys, teddy bears and items their children (killed in the blast) had at home.
She and I, tears on our face, read the birthday cards to their dead kids, touched the teddy bears tucked into little blankets fastened to the chain link fence, and we pondered what to do with the culprits.
Janet said, " we ought to lock up the men in a building and tell them we're going to blow it up some time between now and their 65th birthday. It could happen at any moment, just don't tell them when."
She was a lawyer.
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